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She picked it back up and glowered. ‘It’s up to us.’
‘Right, ma’am,’ he said and grinned again, looking ruefully down at his city shoes. ‘You know, I should be bored out of my mind in a plane right now. How can I possibly regret my change of plan?’
* * *
It took skill, strength and patience to dig a cow out of a bog. Firstly there was the imperative of keeping the cow calm. Struggling would make her sink deeper and that was where Charlie came in.
‘You’ve been feeding her for the last weeks?’ Bryn asked and when she agreed he set her task.
‘Right. You’re the cow whisperer. You squat by her head, block as much of me as you can and tell her all about the hay bales back in the shed.’
‘I want to dig.’
‘We can’t always get what we want,’ Bryn said, unperturbed.
Charlie thought, Yeah, tell me about it.
So she stooped as ordered and tried to do the cow-whispering thing but the cow wasn’t having a bar of it.
‘It’s as if she thinks we’re trying to dig her out to turn her into sausages,’ she said indignantly as Cordelia did a bit more thrashing and Bryn nodded.
‘Some cows are bred for intelligence. Obviously not this one. Okay,’ he conceded. ‘Let’s go for fast. Grab a spade and help.’
Excellent. She dug, ankle deep in mud, shovelling the squishy mud from in front of the cow.
‘We need to get deep enough to lay planking so she can haul herself up,’ Bryn told her. ‘But if you’re getting blisters...’
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