Page 19 of The Farmer Has a Wife

“Absolutely not,” Eleanor shuddered. “I’m not moving furniture around.”

Danni puffed out a breath. “Well, you were sleeping on a camp bed up until now,” she said. She looked around the room. “And atleast here there’s no bricks falling. No dust either.”

Eleanor raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Danni said with a shrug. “I was thinking mostly about the no bricks part. Less about the no bed part.”

Eleanor exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. She’d been prepared for plenty of inconveniences about this arrangement. The absence of a bed had not been one of them. And whilst it was nice of Danni to offer her a place to stay, she was regretting her decision rather sooner than she’d expected. “Danni, be serious for a moment here.”

“Fine,” Danni said with a sigh. “You can have my bed, Princess. I’ll sleep on the couch in the kitchen.”

“I didn’t mean to kick you out of your bed,” Eleanor said quickly. That hadn’t been her intention, and it seemed, well, unfair.

“It’s not like I sleep in,” Danni said. She sniffed. “And to be honest, it’s not like I don’t sleep on the couch most nights, anyway. Climbing the stairs just to come down them a couple of hours later doesn’t always make a lot of sense.”

Eleanor studied her. Danni looked completely unfazed, as if giving up her bed to a woman that she barely tolerated was no big deal. Eleanor herself was already starting to feel guilty, though only slightly. This had all been Danni’s idea, after all. “Thank you,” she said finally. “That’s very generous.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Danni, already turning to leave. “I’ll just consider it one of my wifely duties.”

Eleanor unpacked what little she’d brought, stowing things away in the wardrobe and small bathroom. This wasn’t the worst idea, she told herself as she worked. In fact, it was probably a good thing. If anyone came asking, they lived together. And it wouldn’t be for that long.

Anyone could put up with anything for a few weeks.

And, to be fair, the room was larger than the one she’d had at boarding school, and at least she wasn’t sharing a bathroom with eleven other girls.

No, she had to look on the bright side.

She stowed her small case under the bed and, in search of a proper cup of tea, descended into the kitchen. Only to freeze in horror at the sight before her.

Muddy boots were lined up uncleaned next to the door. A sink full of washing up awaited attention. There was a butter dish in the middle of the table that bore the distinct mark of a cat’s bite.

Eleanor took a slow, steady breath. You can deal with this, she told herself.

Rolling up her sleeves, she got to work on the washing up. When she was done, she wiped down the counters and, seeing that the spices in the rack were out of order, began alphabetizing them. She was placing nutmeg when the back door opened and Danni strolled in, stopping short at the sight of Eleanor.

“Um, what are you doing?” Danni asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Putting your spices back into alphabetical order,” Eleanor said. “Where I presume they belong?”

“Then you presume wrong,” said Danni. “They belong in whichever order they last got used in, to my knowledge.”

“Ah,” said Eleanor, standing back. “Right.” She looked around and picked up a dish towel that had begun to stiffen. “And how long has it been since this was last washed?”

Danni shrugged. “Dunno. Couple of weeks. Three maybe. It’s a dish towel. Only used to dry clean dishes. So it doesn’t touch dirt, you see.”

Eleanor gasped as if she’d been struck. “Three weeks?”

Danni sighed and shook her head. “Oh, you’re going to be so much fun to live with,” she said.

Eleanor dropped the dish towel into the sink and began running boiling water over it.

???

When the alarm went at a quarter to five, Danni stretched the crick out of her neck and pushed the bundle of blankets to theend of the couch. She pulled on the jeans she’d left on the kitchen chair and went out into the cool of the morning to get started.

By half past seven, the animals were fed and cleaned out, and Danni was gasping for a cup of tea. Not that she expected Eleanor to be up and about. Still, she supposed she had to make allowances. Allowances that were a bit easier to make given that Eleanor had signed off on a new rental tractor that was due to arrive that afternoon.

She crept into the house, making sure that the door didn’t creak, only to be greeted by the sight of Eleanor, already dressed, definitely already awake, and already fuming.

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