She was a trade union activist, she told me. She wanted a second referendum. Well, they all do. I’m starting to think that none of them got out of bed on 23 June 2016.
The pink tinge to her hair alarmed me from the start. I have often said that there is a certain type of left-winger who doesn’t care for foil highlights who fears me up more than the rest. I can’t explain it quite. They just scare me.
I encountered this young woman out of context, as it were, as she came and went from the fields where I keep my horses. She rents from the same farmer. We have to be polite to each other. So I made an effort whenever I saw her, even though I got the feeling she knew something about me and took a dim view of my Conservative leanings.
I told myself it was always going to be strained between us and I did my best to make our brief encounters work.
While saying ‘Hi, how are you, how’s your horse?’ out loud, however, I did get the feeling there was a subtext to everything we were saying to each other.
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