Free Girls, Muddy, Moody Yet Magnificent by Sue Limb Page B

not only remembered his, but been needy and nerdy enough to ask how he was.
    Oh, cow poo of the vilest kind! My campaign to appear cool, unattainable and desirable had taken a disastrous dive.
    There was nothing much I could do to increase my attractiveness. I could hardly slip into high heels and a figure-hugging little cocktail dress right now, so I just tried to lurch attractively whenever the Land Rover hit a rut. Oliver was totally silent, staring out towards the woods and trees. He was lost in his thoughts, which evidently did not include my former headache.
    ‘Wonderful here, isn’t it?’ I sighed, and immediately regretted it.
    ‘Mmm,’ said Oliver. Oh God! He hadn’t even awarded me a single word, only a kind of absent-minded hum! But I loved his silence in a way. It was better than being bombarded with sleazy chat-up lines by smooth-talking bigheads like Beast.
    The Land Rover stopped and we got out – this time it was Brendan who gave me a hand down.
    ‘So how’s the head today, Zoe?’ he asked. His concern was a startling contrast to Oliver’s dreamy forgetfulness.
    ‘Oh, fine, thanks, totally gone,’ I said. ‘It was just the polytunnel.’
    ‘Well, that’s grand.’ Brendan grinned. Such lovely quaint Irish words! ‘I happen to know that you won’t be in the polytunnel this afternoon anyway – Martin’s got something else lined up for you in the shade. I think Sarah gave him hell about you getting wet yesterday. I can tell when they’ve had a little set-to. There’s a vibe.’
    It was a perfect picnic spot: woods and hills on all sides, and totally silent except for the sound of a tinkling stream and the calls of birds and animals.
    ‘Oh, it’s magical!’ said Chloe. Pigeons cooed from distant treetops, and the ewes and lambs bleated to one another nearby.
    ‘Under this rowan tree, maybe,’ said Brendan. I loved the way he knew the trees’ names. We sat down under the tree beside the stream and unpacked our sandwiches. Oliver fished out a plastic box from his rucksack and opened it with a suspicious air.
    ‘Who makes your packed lunch, Oliver?’ asked Brendan. ‘Your butler?’
    Oliver looked faintly embarrassed. He didn’t answer, just opened up a sandwich and glared at the ham and cheese within.
    ‘I hate ham,’ he said, and picked it out and flung it into a hedge.
    ‘Hey!’ quipped Brendan. ‘I could have had that! The bottomless pit, that’s me!’
    Chloe laid out the sandwiches she had made: cheese and pickle, cucumber and tuna, and some jam sandwiches for herself.
    ‘The tuna is for Zoe,’ she warned Brendan sternly. ‘So hands off!’
    ‘Thanks so much, Chloe, this is fantastic!’ I said, wondering if I could manage to take a huge bite of my sarnie while still looking moody and charismatic. ‘Sarah’s soup was kind of nice, but once I knew it had been bubbling away for months, it kind of lost its charm.’
    ‘Cooking’s not her strong point,’ Brendan smiled, ‘though Martin can do a mean chilli when he’s in the mood.’
    ‘What are Sarah and Martin like to live with?’ I asked. ‘You’re staying in their house, right?’
    ‘Oh, they’re fine,’ said Brendan. ‘It’s such a big old place, I’ve got most of the attic to myself and I’ve got my own TV up there and a bathroom and everything, so I just come and go as I please.’
    The mention of bathrooms reminded me of the girl who had burst in yesterday while I was drying myself after the shower.
    ‘What’s Lily like?’ I asked. ‘I think I saw her briefly, yesterday? Petite with light brown hair in a ponytail?’
    ‘Oh, that’ll be Lily,’ said Brendan, laughing. ‘Trouble! She’s broken every heart in Oxford – a brain the size of a planet, and spoilt rotten by her ma.’ It sounded as if Brendan didn’t rate her. I felt relieved for Chloe’s sake.
    ‘Does she ever work on the farm?’
    ‘What! Lily! No, she’d never set foot out of doors if she could. She’s a city girl.