explode.
'I can see that,' he snapped as he jumped down from his seat. 'I ain't stupid. I know what I asked you to do.'
The engine was still running and I watched as thick clouds of oily exhaust fumes spewed into the air.
'So what's the problem?' I wondered.
'Problem is that you were supposed to be fixing the fence this morning. I can't wait all bloody day for you to finish a job.'
'It's taking longer than I thought. I'm on my own here and...'
'I need it finished.'
'I should be done in a couple of...'
'I want it done in the hour. If you're going to work for me, then you're going to work how I want you to. If I give you something to do, you bloody well do it quickly.'
This was not the Joe Porter I was used to seeing. His familiar wrinkled smile had disappeared and his face was flushed red with anger. I had never seen him like this. Something must have happened. Surely the fact that I was still working couldn't have been the only reason for his frustration? Christ, this was the man who hadn't even raised his voice when he'd lost virtually an entire herd of cattle in a flash-flood earlier this year. 'Listen Joe,' I protested, looking him straight in the eye, 'I work here because I want to help. You don't pay me for what I do and I don't think you're in any position to criticise. I'm working as fast as I can. If you don't want me to help then I'll just go...'
'Finish the job you started,' he said, 'then go.'
With that he turned his back on me and climbed back into the tractor. I still couldn't help thinking that this whole conversation didn't make any sense. Something else must have happened.
'Look,' I said, trying a different tack, 'what's the problem? I'm doing what you asked me to...'
Porter just scowled at me and shook his head before putting his foot down and driving away again, carving yet another set of deep, muddy furrows in his precious green field. I watched him disappear in disbelief.
Determined not to give him any more reasons to be angry with me, I decided to finish the job before leaving for home. First Siobhan and now the farmer, what the hell was going on? I began smashing down a wooden fence post with a lump hammer, beating out my frustrations.
I didn't want revenge or retributions. I wanted explanations.
Chapter 22
Clare telephoned me later.
I was sitting alone in the house again and I was glad of the interruption. I had been dragging myself down again, thinking dark, pointless thoughts when the call had come. I was sitting next to the telephone contemplating calling Siobhan. Clare provided me with the perfect excuse not to.
'You okay?' I asked.
'I'm okay,' she replied softly. She didn't sound too good, but at least she, unlike just about everyone else I knew, wasn't yelling groundless accusations at me. Yet.
'Penny enjoy her burger yesterday?'
'Yes,' she said quickly. 'Yes, she really did. Didn't stop talking about it all night...'
'But...?' I pushed, sensing that there was more she wasn't telling me.
'But what?'
'I don't know, you tell me. You sound distant. Is everything all right? Has Penny's dad done something else that's...' 'No, I haven't heard from him.'
'Then what is it?'
Clare was silent. The longer the silence lasted, the more uneasy and worried I began to feel.
'Are you still there?' I asked cautiously.
'I'm here.'
'So what's up? Is it something I've done?' I asked anxiously. It was beginning to feel like I was gradually turning everyone else against me. It was logical to assume that Clare might also have turned too.
'Christ, no,' she replied, her voice suddenly a little louder and more confident. 'You haven't done anything.'
'What is it then?'
I hated playing games and being messed around. In my current state of mind I considered telling her as much.
'Bloody hell, you're going to think I'm off my head,' she eventually said.
'Try me.'
I heard her take a deep breath.
'It's Penny,' she quietly admitted.
'What about her?'
'She fucking hates me.'
'What?'
Another awkward silence.
'I don't know how else to put it, Tom. She hate's me. She's...'
'She's what?'
'Oh, Jesus, I don't know what's going on anymore. I think she must be ill. She was fine when we got home yesterday and she seemed all right this morning when I took her to nursery. It's only since I picked her up that I've noticed it.'
'Noticed what?' I asked, concerned. 'What's the matter with her?'
'I can't explain,' she sighed,