Cowgirl (2 page)

“Where you been?” Mam asked.

“Gran’s.”

“Till now?”

“Mam! What d’you expect me to do? Bury Ruby and go?”

“You been ages, Jamma,” said Darren, sprawled out on the settee. “How long’s it take to bury a dog?”

“Shut it, you, and don’t call me Jamma.”

He grinned. “Maybe she was with her boyfriend, Mam?”

“What’s this? What boyfriend?”

I felt my face go red, and I haven’t even got a
boyfriend. “Ignore him, Mam.” Darren was trying to wind me up; always does.

“Did she say she was getting another dog?” Mam asked.

“No. She’s just buried Ruby.”

“Well, I hope she doesn’t.”

“Why? What’s wrong with her having another dog?”

“Gemma, does it not cross your mind that since your father has been inside, like the plank he is, I need all the help I can get – money-wise and everything else-wise. I don’t want your gran throwing her money away on another dog, or cat.”

“Why? Cos you want it?”

Mam’s eyes became black slits. “What did you say?”

“She said, ‘Cos you want it!’, Mam,” said Darren, leaping to his feet.

“Don’t you
ever
give me that lip, Gemma.”

“Yeah!” said Darren with a smirk.

That did it. I grabbed him and pushed him back until he crashed against the sideboard. “You shut your nasty, stirring gob.”

“Mam!” he called. I banged him against the sideboard again and Dad’s statue of Tom Jones rattled. Darren tried to reach my face but my arms are longer.

“Leave him be, Gemma!” Mam shouted, but I didn’t.

“I’m fed up of your creeping, your greasy hair, your disgusting pants on the bathroom floor. A rat’s cleaner than you…”

“Mam! Get her off.”

He pushed me. I pushed him back, and Tom Jones rocked.

“…the way you slurp your cereal, your finger
always
up your nose in front of the TV…” I was making everything Darren’s fault – Dad in prison, Mam always having a go, Gran feeling scared to go out.

“That’s enough, Gemma!”

Darren snatched at my hair, so I grabbed at his. Mam had her arms round me. “Let him go!” All three of us were wrestling, like we were in a big, angry hug. We crashed into the sideboard. Tom Jones dropped to the floor and smashed. I gave Darren’s hair a final, satisfying yank and we all fell down in a pile.

“I’ve had it with him,” I said as I got to my feet.

“She’s a nutter!” Darren yelled.

Mam just lay there.

“You all right, Mam?” said Darren. “Shall I call an ambulance?”

“Don’t be stupid!” I said.

“Almost killed Mam, you did,” said Darren, helping her up.

Mam groaned. “Why are you
always
fighting, eh?”

“It takes two to fight, Mam,” I said.

“Doesn’t,” said Darren, hiding behind her.

“I don’t know what’s got into you, Gemma, honest to God I don’t, but you go to your room now. No supper.”

“Had supper at Gran’s,” I said with a totally-not-bothered look on my face. As I climbed the stairs I heard Darren say, “She’s proper mad, isn’t she, Mam?”

He’s such a creep.

I didn’t switch the light on in my bedroom – just lay on the bed and thought about having to ask Cowgirl to Gran’s for lunch. But I didn’t want to think about it, so I thought of what Dad would be doing in his cell right now. But I didn’t want to think about that either. With everything that had happened – not finding the waterfall place, the cows attacking me, Ruby dying on Gran, and me fighting with Mam and Darren – I was suddenly angry, but I didn’t want to cry.

I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t.

So I smashed the mattress with my fists and screamed as loud as I could.

It was freezing on the bus and we were packed together like cows waiting to be milked. Cowgirl was sat at the window staring through a circle she’d wiped on the steamed-up glass. I noticed her hands were red and puffy – maybe that’s what happened if you milked cows all the time. I’ve never seen her smile, not that I go around grinning all day myself.

“Look at her,” said Sian, jabbing her chin towards Cowgirl. “How are your cows, girl?” she shouted.

Cowgirl carried on looking out the window.

We all laughed. Sian Jenkins had a nerve. No one messed with her. She thinks it’s cool I’ve got a dad in
prison, and she’s always asking about him, though I wish she wouldn’t. I didn’t tell her about meeting Cowgirl an’ everything – easier not to.

“OK,” said Sian, not letting up. “How are your girls, cow?”

There were more laughs. Cowgirl glanced at me. I could tell what she was thinking –
patched you up and gave you tea, and now you’re back on the other side with Sian and the gang.

We got off the bus, outside school, and Sian waited for her. I could tell she was on one and I didn’t like the way it was going. “C’mon Sian!” I said.

“Wait,” she said, with her eyes on the bus doors.

Cowgirl was the last to get off.

“I don’t like being ignored,” Sian said to her.

Cowgirl didn’t seem at all scared of her – probably wasn’t scared of anyone.

“We’ll be late for school,” she said.

When she tried to walk on Sian blocked her way and shoved her. Cowgirl hardly moved, like she was a wall.

Just then I spotted Darren with the Tobin brothers.

What’s he up to?
I thought. The Tobins were well suspect, and hardly ever in school they’re excluded so much. Then I heard a yell.

I looked back. Sian was hanging over Cowgirl’s
shoulders, kicking her legs and shouting. I couldn’t believe it – Cowgirl was actually carrying her.

“Put me down, you cow!”

“Thanks for the compliment!” Cowgirl said as she marched off.

We tried to get her to put Sian down, but Cowgirl just palmed us off like a rugby forward. She’s so strong. Sian went on struggling and screaming. Kids were laughing, and I’ve got to say it
was
funny, but I had to pretend I was angry. Then Cowgirl turned in to the shop by the school.

The shop assistant’s face dropped at the sight of her with a girl over her shoulder. “Banana milk, please,” Cowgirl asked.

“PUT ME DOWN!” screamed Sian.

“She hates school,” Cowgirl said to the assistant as she paid.

Outside, kids had gathered in the street, and as we went along more and more followed us – like a parade, it was. When we entered school we were surrounded. Mr Beale pushed his way through. “What’s going on?”

“I was worried we were going to be late for school, sir,” said Cowgirl.

“C’mon now, put her down.”

As soon as Sian had her feet on the ground she
took a wild swing at Cowgirl, who caught her arm and twisted it. Sian yelled.

“That’s enough,” said Beale. “Now, what’s all this about?”

“She’s a cow,” said Sian.

“Bit ungrateful, don’t you think, sir?” Cowgirl said. “I made sure she didn’t miss her first lesson and this is all the thanks I get.”

What got me was that most girls would have said Sian did this or said that, but not Cowgirl. It was nothing to her. I’ve got to say, she was fearless.

During the lunch break I watched her roaming around, like she was on guard duty. She didn’t speak to anyone, but I had to make sure Sian didn’t see me talking to her. When I saw her go into the loo it was my chance.

There was a girl at the sink inspecting herself in the mirror and two cubicle doors were closed. I went into the third one. I heard a flush go. A girl came out and left with the girl at the sink, so I went for it.

“My gran wants you to come to lunch tomorrow.”

There was silence. I banged on the cubicle wall.

“Who’s that?”

“Gemma. My gran wants you to come to lunch tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Dunno.”

“How does she know me then?”

“I told her about your cows. She used to be a thingy during the war – worked on a farm…”

“Land girl?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

I waited. “Well?”

“No thanks.”

I heard her pull the flush.

“You got to,” I said as she went to wash her hands.

“Why not ask Sian to go?”

“Sian hasn’t got cows, has she?” I said. “Look, my gran won’t believe I asked you if you don’t.”

Some girls burst in. I left, feeling really wound up.

When Cowgirl came out I followed her. “You coming or not?”

She turned on me. “Why should I?”

“You both like cows, there’s free food and her dog just died.”

I glanced behind her and could see Sian and the gang coming towards us.

“Please,” I said.

Cowgirl stared at me. “OK. As long as you walk there and back with me.”

They were getting closer. “Whatever.”

“Does that mean yes?”

Sian was looking right at us.

“School entrance, half-twelve tomorrow.”

I was gone.

“What were you doing with the Tobin brothers this morning?” I asked Darren in front of Mam.

He turned white. “Don’t know what she’s on about, Mam.”

The phone call saved him.

“That’ll be your dad.”

I always let Darren talk to Dad first, partly because he’s always up for it  but mainly because I never know what to say. I always get nervous waiting to talk to him, like I’m about to go up on stage or read something out in class. So I went to the top of the stairs while Darren was yapping away.

While I sat there I thought of the place with the waterfall – the place I wanted to find. I remembered Dad and Darren daring each other to stick their heads in the icy water to see who could stay under longer. Me and Mam laughing. Darren gave up first. I remember going into a sort of trance as I watched the water falling. It became a blur, like it wasn’t real – a magic trick. It just kept pouring down, on and on, forever and ever.

“Gemma! Come and talk to your dad.”

My nerves kicked in as I went down the stairs. Darren was back watching TV.

“Where d’you get to?” Mam whispered.

I took the phone off her. “Hi, Dad.”

“
Gemma! How’s it going?”

“Fine.”

“
School going OK?”

“Yeah…” I was struggling already. I suppose I could have told him about Cowgirl, but I didn’t want to, not in front of Mam, and he wouldn’t have been interested anyway.

“What are you doing tonight then?” I said without thinking.

Mam frowned at me. It was a stupid thing to have asked.

“
Oh, me and a couple of the boys are thinking of 
going into town … a few drinks, you know?”
He started laughing.

I didn’t like him joking. I would have preferred it if he’d said, “
Stupid thing to say, Gemma! What d’you think I’m doing?”
But that was Dad – always turning everything into a joke. I gave the phone back to Mam as soon as I could and went upstairs.

Later on I heard Mam telling Darren to get off his video game and into bed. When she looked in on me I was already under the duvet and pretending to read.

“Night, Gemma,” she said.

“Night, Mam.”

She went to close the door.

“Mam?”

“What?”

“D’you remember that picnic?”

“What picnic?”

I felt like saying,
Mam, how often do we go on picnics?

“Me, you, Dad and Darren. There was a waterfall and a tree. We stayed there all day.”

I couldn’t see Mam’s expression, as the light in the hall made her a shadow in the doorway. “Vaguely,” she said. “What about it?”

“Where was it? The place?”

I held my breath.

“I can’t remember. Why?”

Because it was a lovely day,
I wanted to say.
You were laughing and happy and I want to go back there.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said.

Mam stayed at the doorway. I stared at her – the shadow.

“Only a month to go before your dad’s out.”

“Yeah,” I said. Couldn’t think of anything else to say. I wanted to ask her what she thought about it. Two years away inside and then he’s back just like that, as if he’d been away on a job.

“Night, Gemma.”

“Night, Mam.”

The shadow closed the door.

“C’mon, c’mon.”

I paced up and down outside the school entrance. Then I saw her strolling along like there was no rush. “This way,” I said.

Cowgirl had a dead-slow walk. Plod, plod, plod. I was happy to lead the way as I didn’t want to be seen with her. It was about ten minutes’ walk from school to Gran’s – two streets and a short cut across the Common – but we didn’t have much time.

“You don’t want to be doing this, do you?” she asked.

“Whatever.”

“We can drop the whole thing if you prefer.”

“Look,” I said, turning on her. “My gran’s dog died, right? I told her about you and your cows cos I thought she might be interested. She asked me to invite you to lunch. You said yes, so here we are. My gran’s food’s lovely, far better than the stodge at school, so, say, you coming or not? Because we haven’t got all day and––”

“All right! All right! Let’s go then.”

After a bit she said, “What d’you tell her about me?”

“Said you were in my class, you got cows and you live on a farm – ’appy?”

We walked on in silence.

“You must be Gemma’s friend Kate?” Gran said, putting her foot straight in it. I didn’t say anything, just went through to the lounge. Gran had a lovely spread on the table and the fire was blazing, so to be honest, I didn’t care any more. I sat down and started to stuff my face.

It turned out that Gran did know Cowgirl’s granddad, so they talked and talked. Cowgirl was different – smiley and bright. Gran was going on about being a land girl, the early starts and milking by hand and everything.

“How many cows have you got?” Gran asked her.

“Twelve,” said Cowgirl. “We used to have more before the foot-an’-mouth came along.”

She suddenly looked sad.

“Oh, that was awful,” said Gran. “Killing all those cows and burning them. Such a waste.”

“What?” I said. “Killing and burning?”

They both looked at me. “Oh Gemma, don’t you remember? Cows piled up like wood on a bonfire. You could see the smoke from here, and the smell – terrible, it was.”

“Oh yeah,” I said, lying.

“The farmers got compensation though, didn’t they?” Gran asked.

Cowgirl stared at her plate. “Yes,” she said. “But it wasn’t the same. While we waited for the compensation Mam got herself a part-time job in town. Then when the money did come, Dad bought a smaller herd and set himself up as a landscape gardener, which is what he’s always wanted. As he got more and more work I took over the milking.”

“You do it all?” Gran asked.

Cowgirl shrugged. “I like it.”

Gran was smiling at her. “Well, I think you’ve got it just about right, Kate. How many girls up and down the country could say they were doing as much? I
think you’re a star.”

Cowgirl took a bite out of her sandwich, as if she hadn’t heard. “Glad I don’t have to milk them all by hand though – take me hours.”

“I used to talk to them while I milked them,” said Gran. “Even sing them a song sometimes. They’re such lovely, gentle creatures. Can’t understand why anyone would be frightened of them.” They both glanced at me, just as I pushed the last part of a fruit bun into my mouth.

“Reckon you could still remember how to milk a cow, Mrs Matthews?” Cowgirl asked.

“I don’t see why not. Yes, yes, I think I could.”

“Well, why not come up to the farm and give it a go?”

Gran’s face lit up. “Really?”

Cowgirl nodded.

“I’d love to.”

I panicked. “You can’t,” I said with my mouth full.

“Why ever not?” asked Gran.

“How would you get up there?”

“Oh, my own granddaughter,” she said. “If you had your way I’d be locked up in a care home. Roger or Mr Banerjee could give me a lift.” She turned to Cowgirl. “They’re neighbours of mine. Would you
mind an extra person?”

“No, that’ll be OK, Mrs Matthews.”

“Please call me Lilly,” says Gran.

So that was that. But the thing that got to me, apart from the fact that I had to walk back to school with Cowgirl, was that Gran had called her a “star” and I couldn’t remember the last time anyone called me a star, if ever.