Читать книгу Foxglove Farm - Christie Barlow - Страница 6

Isla felt the tension bubbling away in the room the second she walked into the kitchen. She hovered by the table and watched her husband Drew slamming every drawer and cupboard door.

‘Have you lost something?’ she asked cautiously, wondering what the hell had gotten into him.

Drew spun round and held her gaze. His face was mottled crimson, the tendons in his neck bulging. Isla knew that look. Drew was spoiling for a fight, but she had no clue to why. It wasn’t very often he reached boiling point but when he did there was little time to duck and take cover.

‘It’s always down to me, isn’t it?’

Trying her best to keep composed against the sudden onslaught – after all, she wasn’t a mind reader – Isla kept her voice calm, ‘What’s always down to you?’

Drew ran his hand through his hair numerous times in quick succession, a trait he had when he was agitated.

‘Everything!’ He threw his arms up into the air. There was an irritation to his anger, a sort of impetuousness.

His words packed a powerful punch. ‘Everything?’ she repeated.

‘Yes, everything. Who’s up milking the cows at ridiculous o’clock?’

Isla narrowed her eyes; this conversation had come out of the blue and wasn’t one she was expecting at all. She didn’t understand the point Drew was trying to make, and for a second she thought about reacting with a flippant comment about the fact that he chose to be a farmer. But instead she replied with a calm voice, hoping not to fuel whatever was burning inside him: ‘And who’s been up three times in the night feeding our son while I let you sleep? I’m shattered too, Drew, as well you know.’

‘That’s not in dispute, but then you go back to sleep whenever you can while I single-handedly keep the farm afloat.’

‘The last time I checked, it was a joint effort.’ Drew was beginning to agitate Isla now. How dare he?

‘You’ve got it easy, Isla.’

Isla absorbed what he was saying, feeling shocked to the core. ‘Are you serious?’ The anger was now rising up inside her. How dare he accuse her of having it easy? Isla couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a decent night’s sleep.

‘You swan around without a care in the world, breakfast at the teashop, lunch at the pub … I’m not here to bankroll your social life.’

‘My social life?’ Isla’s voice rose an octave.

‘While I’m working every hour, you’re frittering it away before it’s even reached the bank.’

‘So now I’m not allowed to see my friends?’ she protested.

‘That’s not what I’m saying.’

‘Goodness knows what you’re trying to say.’

They held each other’s gaze and Drew exhaled.

‘I mean it Isla, I’m sick to the back teeth of bringing in the cash. If you carry on spending it faster than I am making it, then we might have to think about you getting a job.’

His words had an air of finality to them but there was no way on earth she was prepared to just go back to work yet, especially with the baby being so young. And they’d talked about her staying at home while the kids were little. He’d never mentioned this before … What had gotten into Drew?

‘If you want to talk about what’s really going on here, without attacking me the second I walk into the room, I’m all ears.’ Isla’s voice was firm.

Drew stared at her, then yanked his coat from the back of the chair with anger before flouncing out of the door with a slam.

‘Damn you, Drew Allaway,’ she bellowed after him, close to tears.