“Ruaridh?” he whispered into the night.
“Aye, here, boss,” came a voice behind him.
“Where are you?”
“In the lean-to. She’s not having a good time in there. Twins by the feel of it. It’s like a jigsaw puzzle.”
Lennox swore and strode forward, Nina stumbling behind him.
“Did you call Kyle?”
“Aye, he’s at a calving on the other side of the brae.”
“Well, that’s terrific,” said Lennox, putting down his lantern.
The lean-to, attached to the side of a barn, wasn’t cozy, but it was out of the full force of the wind, which made a lot of difference. A ewe was lying on her side, looking very distressed, bleating pitifully.
“I know, I know, old girl,” he said. It was the first time Nina had heard anything like softness in his voice. “There, there.”
There was a large jar of a Vaseline-style concoction on the floor, and Lennox started rolling up his sleeves and scrubbing up in a bucket. Suddenly Nina got a massive James Herriot flashback.
“You’re not . . . ,” she said, nervously, “you’re not going to stick your arm up that animal’s fanny? This isn’t All Creatures Great and Small.”
The carrot-topped Ruaridh shot a glance in Nina’s direction.
“Don’t mind her,” said Lennox.
“What is she, work experience?” said Ruaridh, in an accent Nina could barely understand. Then he said something else in Gaelic that she one hundred percent absolutely couldn’t understand, but it made Lennox laugh, which Nina thought was profoundly unfair in the circumstances. Lennox shook his head.
“Nah, let’s have a shot at it.”
Ruaridh held the ewe’s legs to stop her struggling, and Nina found she couldn’t help but look away as Lennox stuck his arm inside the animal.
“Oh for goodness’ sake,” said Lennox, cross but amused by her reaction. “Honestly, there’s being a townie and there’s living in complete and utter denial. Do you want this ewe to have her lambs or not?”
“I know,” said Nina. “I’ve just never seen anything like it before.”
“Won’t get this in your books,” he teased. Then he frowned. “Ah, I can’t grip it. My damn hands are too big. Come on. Come on, little one.”
The sheep bleated painfully again.
“I know, I know. Sorry,” said Lennox, wrestling around. “Dammit. What about you?” he said to Ruaridh.
“Mine are the same,” said the younger man, showing his large rough hands. “Couldn’t get my hand and the legs out at the same time.”
“No. I know.”
There was a pause. Then Lennox fixed Nina with a look. “I was going to see if you could help us, but you seem far too squeamish for all of this.”
Nina swallowed. She had read plenty of animal stories, not from preference but simply because she had read nearly everything as a child. Calligraphy, code breaking, ventriloquism; there was absolutely nothing in the little children’s library she hadn’t devoured, nothing she’d missed at all.
But as for dealing with real animals, in the wild, that was something she hadn’t considered. She’d never gotten closer to a lamb than eating one on Easter Sunday, or briefly looking up from her book while passing a field of them on a train. This big, smelly, panicking creature in front of her, this was something different altogether, and she wasn’t at all sure how to cope with it.
She nervously advanced a little bit. She felt Lennox’s eyes on her, and realized he totally expected her not to be able to cope. This steeled her a little. He already thought she was a useless townie; she wasn’t going to confirm his suspicion.
“I could . . . I could have a shot,” she said carefully. Lennox’s eyebrow moved ever so slightly.
“Are you sure?”
“Could I make things worse?”
“Maybe. Any news from Kyle?”
Ruaridh looked up from his phone. “Still at the calving.”
Lennox sighed in exasperation, then looked at Nina again.
“Hmm,” he said.
“Do you want me to have a shot or don’t you?” said Nina, cross and anxious.
“Well, that sheep is worth a bit more than you, that’s all,” said Lennox.
The ewe gave a noise of keening pain that made them all wince.
“Oh God, okay. Get in there,” he said, and kneeled down by the animal’s side. “And try not to make things worse.”
Nina washed thoroughly in a basin of soapy water, then lathered up her hands with the Vaseline and tried to get used to the smell. Then tentatively she touched the sheep.
Lennox laughed. “It’s only a sheep. It’s not going to bite you.”
“There’s a live animal in there,” pointed out Nina. “It totally might bite me.”
“Well, it won’t be alive for much longer if you don’t get a move on,” said Lennox, as the poor sheep strained and twisted in distress.
Nina took a deep breath and plunged her hand in. She was left-handed, so Lennox jumped up and came around her other side.
“Right,” he said. “What can you feel?”
“A whole load of squidge,” said Nina, panicking slightly. She could feel her hand and arm getting crushed. “I can’t . . .”
“Okay, okay. Just relax, get used to it. It’s not every day you stick your hand up a sheep.”
“It isn’t,” agreed Nina.
“Try shutting your eyes,” suggested Lennox. “You’ll feel more of what you’re looking for that way.”
Nina closed her eyes briefly and it made a lot of difference. Under her fingers, the baby sheep started to become clear: a little nose, ears, and a great tangle of legs.
“He’s all mixed up!” she said. “He’s got too many legs! Oh no!”
“Okay,” said Lennox, his mouth twitching.
“Why has he got too many legs?” Nina was becoming slightly hysterical. It felt like some kind of alien spider being.
“Well, let’s just assume for a moment that there’s more than one lamb in there.”
“Oh yes,” said Nina, relieved. “Twins. Of course. You said. That makes more sense.”
Ruaridh snorted in the corner, and Lennox shot him a look. He went off to fetch some fresh water, still looking very sceptical.