youâll still have me of course, and showing you the ropes. Youâll have this place running like clockwork in no time at all.â Tom stood up and, thrusting his arm towards me, shook my hand vigorously. âWelcome aboard.â
I let out a sigh of relief and had the urge to stand up and hug him. I didnât of course, but I could feel a tingling pulse racing through my body, and knew I was blushing. A handshake would do just fine for now.
âEek, crikey it looks like Iâve gone and landed myself a chicken farm!â I laughed, sinking into the leather chair and spinning it around like an excited child.
I quite liked the idea of Tom being my right-hand man, whatever that entailed. I knew I couldnât run before I could walk and I was more than happy to leave Tom managing the farm while I learnt everything there was to know, even if it took a while. I was looking forward to the new challenge, learning the ropes from Tom. At school and college I always seemed to get on well with the opposite sex. I smiled, remembering one of my best friends from school, Jeremy Whiteman. He had been my friend in class five of primary school. He wasnât like the other boys in my class, and he didnât like football. Iâd met him in the library. Every lunchtime after weâd eaten we used to browse through hordes and hordes of books. One day Iâd tripped over my shoelace in the dinner hall and catapulted my food straight up into the air, and unfortunately it had landed directly on the head of Miranda snooty nose, the most popular girl in the class (though I couldnât work out why). Honestly, youâd have thought someone had died by the sound of her anguished cries. I personally thought the tomato pasta did wonders for her appearance, but the wail drew the attention of the headmaster, who demanded the person responsible for this catastrophe make themselves known immediately. Quaking in my untied shoes, I had just been about to step forward when Jeremy Whitemanâs voice had echoed in the suddenly silent hall. âIt was me, sir.â He was marched off to be interrogated in the den of what was the headmasterâs office before I could own up. I had the same gut instinct about Tom as Iâd had about Jeremy â that he was a genuine person â and I hoped we were going to be good friends.
At that moment the door opened and a girl walked in. She looked at Tom. âAre you going to introduce us?â
The girl standing before me was wearing olive-green overalls; she was the image of a proper farmer, with the filthiest wellington boots that I had ever seen. Her hair was light brown, piled up loosely on top of her head in a bun with trailing curls, her cheeks were glowing and her face was one of natural beauty. I wasnât sure why but I immediately felt deflated and could feel a pang deep in the pit of my stomach. The pair of them looked like the perfect Hollywood couple standing before me, apart from the attire and the wellies. He was handsome and there was no denying she was exceptionally beautiful.
âJeannie, meet Kitty. Kitty, meet Jeannie. Kitty is our new boss.â
I took a deep calming breath, and, standing up, I offered my hand.
âPlease to meet you, Jeannie.â
Jeannie glanced in Tomâs direction; he motioned to her to shake my hand.
âNew boss?â Jeannie asked.
âThis is Agnes Porterâs granddaughter,â Tom relayed.
âOh I see, delighted, absolutely delighted, to meet you,â said Jeannie, shaking my hand.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by the stench.
âWhoa, whatâs that smell?â I cried, immediately taking a step backwards.
Tom laughed.
Jeannie grinned. âThat, boss, is the smell of the countryside and the sheer hard work of mucking out over a thousand chickens this morning, not forgetting Conker.â
âConker?â
âThe beautiful black Shetland pony â he lives in the field just at