Nat jumped up, unlocked the door and swung it open. ‘Sorry, habit, I guess. I always used to lock it at the share house.’
Phyllie’s eyes travelled around the room, settling on the computer. ‘It’s nearly three, and you haven’t been out of here since breakfast. Surely you don’t have so much work you can’t stop for a break?’
Nat glanced at her watch. Phyllie was right, it was nearly three. It was surprising she wasn’t starving. Although, the way her morning had progressed since she’d won the first game and made the donation to Shared had pretty much killed any appetite she might have had. Since then she’d lost the next ten games. It wasn’t her best day on the tour.
‘Come on down and I’ll make you a sandwich. Can’t have you locked in here all day without food. What would the neighbours think?’
‘I’ll be down in ten minutes,’ Nat said. ‘I’ve one thing to finish off first.’
Phyllie tutted. ‘You’re becoming a workaholic. That’s not something I ever thought I’d have to say to you. Hannah yes, you no.’
Nat needed her grandmother to leave. She was mid-game, and she’d be lucky if she still had enough time to play the hand she’d been dealt. She was nearing the final three and needed a win to turn things around. ‘I need to get back to it, Phyllie.’
Phyllie shook her head and shuffled out of the room and back down the stairs. Why had she even come up? It was one of her promises to Hannah that she wouldn’t risk the stairs.
She quickly reopened the screen, frustrated to see her hand had automatically folded. There were only three other players left in the game. She needed to play her next few hands carefully to ensure she reached the top three. Coming third at least guaranteed she’d get part of her buy-in back.
The next hand was dealt. Adrenaline spiked as her cards were shown. The community cards were revealed, confirming she had a solid hand, more than a solid hand. So much for playing conservatively, she thought as she went all in. But that was the reality. Sometimes you had to have the confidence to play the bigger hands.
She stared at the screen as the other hands were revealed, her heart sinking. Fuzzy13 revealed a full house of aces and kings. The Game Over, You Placed Fourth message flashed on her screen. She banged her hands down on the desk. Shit. Two hundred dollars gone, just like that. She was about to open another game and restart when Phyllie’s cry made her jump.
She rushed out of the room and down the stairs as words she never thought she’d hear from her grandmother’s mouth reverberated around the backyard.
Nat followed the explosion of swear words to find her grandmother once again trapped by the goat. It was busily eating the flourishing clematis climbing a trellis by the small potting shed and had Phyllie pinned between it and the shed. She was pushing at the goat’s side and swearing, but it didn’t seem to be paying any attention.
‘Thank God,’ she cried as Nat grabbed the hose and ran around the shed so she could fire it straight into the goat’s face.
Nat’s heart was racing. What if this time the goat knocked Phyllie over or gouged her with its horns as it turned to flee? Anger boiled inside her. She’d be having a word with the goat’s owner after this. ‘Stay as close to the shed as possible. I’m about to spray it.’
‘Like I have a choice,’ Phyllie muttered. ‘It’s not exactly allowing me to get out.’
Nat turned the hose on the goat, who immediately whipped round and took off up the garden and around the side of the house, trampling the prolific star jasmine as it went.
Nat dropped the hose and hurried over to Phyllie. ‘Are you okay?’
She nodded. ‘I’m fine. It didn’t hurt me, just ruined my clematis and the star jasmine by the looks of it.’
Nat studied her grandmother, whose hands were trembling as well as her voice. This bloody goat was probably stealing years from her life.
‘This isn’t on,’ Nat said. ‘I’m going to go and have a word with your neighbour. He needs to do something, or I will report him to the council. Let’s get you back inside first and get you a drink. You’re still shaking.’
‘I’m a little dizzy. Stupid goat’s got under my skin.’
Nat took Phyllie’s arm and guided her up the small path that led to the back door. Once inside, she left her in her favourite armchair and went to turn the kettle on.
‘I think whisky would be more appropriate, thanks, Nat. It’ll calm my nerves and get rid of these silly head spins.’
Nat took the bottle from the small drinks cupboard and poured Phyllie a measure. She took it through to her.
‘Don’t go too hard on Leon. He’s a lovely guy and has no idea what the goat has been up to. It didn’t hurt me, so no real harm was done.’
‘This time it didn’t, but who knows what it might have done if I hadn’t been here. It had you trapped against the shed.’
Phyllie laughed unconvincingly. ‘I know, but it’s so dumb who knows if it even knew I was there.’
Nat shook her head. ‘Why on earth are you defending a bloody goat? It could push you over and you might break something. I’m beginning to think Hannah had good reason to be worried about you.’
Alarm registered in Phyllie’s eyes.
‘Don’t worry. I’m not suggesting anything more than we need to get that goat under control. How many times has it been down here now?’
‘Just one other time, I think. It didn’t hurt me then either, just ate the roses.’
‘What about a few weeks ago, when you needed stitches? Aren’t you counting that?’
Phyllie’s forehead creased with confusion. ‘Stitches?’
‘Yes, and the tetanus shot. Surely you haven’t forgotten?’
‘Um, no, of course I haven’t forgotten.’ Phyllie’s tone was unconvincing. She sipped her whisky, appearing to be deep in concentration.
Did she really not remember the goat incident? Nat was about to say something when Phyllie spoke.
‘Oh yes, when Damien dropped in and fixed me up.’ She smiled at Nat. ‘Sorry, love, you must think I’m a crazy old lady. I think the goat’s visit this afternoon has given me a bit of a fright. Don’t worry. I’m not losing it. I remember very clearly that bloody thing attacking me with its horn.’
Relief flooded through Nat. She stood. ‘I’ll go and chat to Leon and see if he can do something to keep it in or keep it tied up.’
Phyllie held out her tumbler. ‘Before you go, can you refill this? There has to be some benefit in having a run-in with a goat.’
As she made her way along the footpath to number twenty-three, Nat wasn’t sure whether to be worried about Phyllie or not. The previous incident with the goat was hardly one you’d forget. But she’d had a shock this afternoon, so perhaps that did explain the momentary forgetfulness.
Nat turned into the driveway of Leon’s home. The lawn was neatly mown and flowerbeds lined the fence. She couldn’t help but smile when she realised that the plants in the beds had mostly been chewed. Looking more closely she wasn’t sure that any of them had been untouched by the goat. Served him right.
She was about to knock on the front door when she heard a deep laugh emanate from the back of the house. She walked around the side, through a carport to a small gate that blocked off the back garden. A man in his late thirties was holding out a carrot to the goat.