Lettuces and Cream (17 page)

Jan didn’t know what to say, she didn’t want to take sides. In any case she still hardly really knew either of them.

‘We all have little tiffs now and then Chris, it will all blow over I’m sure. Just think about the rehearsals take your mind off it.’

Jan had been half disappointed half glad that nothing had happened between them that evening. Yet, the subconscious can be so sneaky -why had Jan chosen to wear a loose fitting skirt? In a way, the fact nothing had happened did more to consolidate their ‘friendship’ rather than the intimacy of sex. Rather like other couples that in order for their relationship to survive must sometimes compromise their desires and substitute them with compassion and concern. Compassion wasn’t an important issue for Chris. Not that she was evil or callous as such, it just wasn’t part of her conscious character, and what had temporarily dampened her ardour had been anger. Anger at Keith, and at the unknown hand that was causing trouble and expense. Jan’s gentler nature however made her feel sorry for Chris and her troubles, and strangely enough, less afraid of her assertiveness.

‘That’s another bucket full, God will it never end,’ Jan groaned. It was back breaking work, but Mike was coping pretty well. He had had plenty of bending practice with his weeding, but poor Jan was suffering a bit.

‘I’ve gone off potatoes, I think I’ll give them up,’ Jan joked

‘Yeah, it’s bit of a killer,’ Mike said as he too straightened up, ‘I think I’ll have a break and a smoke.’

‘You ought to give them up – and it would save money,’ she added ruefully.

Mike ignored the remark, and he lit up and looked around the field. The afternoon was dry and a weak sun lit the industrious scene, and he thought that he wouldn’t like to be doing this job in the rain. Some of the kids were half-heartedly picking up the odd potato or two and placing them in small plastic buckets. But mostly they stood around discussing things of great importance with their mates. Apart from Ann and the other two Bears they knew no one. Not that it mattered; all the adults were far to busy for long chats. It was a very pleasant rural vision, but Mike wondered for how much longer such activity would last. Emlyn was one of the last in the area to grow potatoes on this scale, and with the inherent risks and financial uncertainties in such a crop, would he carry on?

Suddenly, as though by some secret sign, there was a mass straightening of backs and people began heading for the farmhouse.

‘Where’s everyone going Jan, is there a strike or something.’

Jan stood up with a groan, ‘Must be break time I suppose. There, look, Ann’s waving to us. Good, I could do with a cup of tea, lets follow them.’

Everyone trooped into the large old farmhouse kitchen finding chairs wherever they could. In deference to the ‘foreigners’ in their midst, the hum of chatter went from English to Welsh, and back again. They were missing out on the jokes but could follow and reply with the simple please and thanks you’s in Welsh easily enough, and Jan did almost a full sentence in Welsh before running out of words. This pleased the Bears a lot. Jan and Mike thought it was great to be among this gathering and it was doing a lot to restore their faith in the local friendliness. Particularly after being ripped rip off with the cost of the ploughing work.

‘Come on eat up,don’t be shy. Do you both want tea?’ Ann beamed happily at them, and she appeared to be in her element with her role as hostess.

‘Please, Ann,’ Jan answered.

The table was set out with a mass of food. Great lumps of ham, heaps of bread and butter, large wedges of cheese and tarts and cakes of all sorts. The kids were already well into it, and food was being stuffed in earnest.

‘Here’s the tea, eat up Mike, you men need your food.’ This was the first time Ann or any of the locals had called him by name. This was real progress in Mikes eyes and made the afternoon seem very worthwhile. Even Jan gave him a glance that said, ‘we’re in.’

‘This bread is lovely Ann, wonderful texture, do you make it yourself?’ ‘Oh yes, in the old wall oven in the kitchen. You look with me after,’ and she was off again, pouring more tea and dispensing food.

‘Did she mean she will show you the oven later on,’ Mike whispered. ‘Yeah, I think so,’ Jan said.

Emlyn and his son appeared rather bashful and only nodded and smiled at them from across the room, but then, most of the local men they had met were not big talkers. Perhaps they were all bewildered by the ‘English’ hippies in their midst. And in some ways Mike and Jan still felt like foreign pioneers in their own country. Emlyn was quite a little man, in his early sixties, a small face with sharp, thin features. Shorter than Mike, who was no giant at five feet ten inches, and what hair Emlyn had, was grey and today, matted with sweat. However his son of about thirty five years, was a tall chunky robust chap with a ruddy complexion. Much more like Mike expected a jolly farmer to look like. But then Mike hadn’t met many farmers, and perhaps Emlyn was as jolly as the next.

Break time over the exodus back to the field began, however, a little less enthusiastically than when they had trooped into the kitchen. Still, it was only going to be another hour and a half before it was dusk so spirits were still high.

It was dark by the time they got home and whilst Jan sorted the evening meal, Mike checked and fed the animals. Back inside he got the sitting room fire going ready for a well earned rest.

‘Fire’s lit, Darl,’ Mike joined the kids at the kitchen table, ‘the room will be nice and warm by the time we sit down.’

‘Good, we need a sit down my back is killing me. Now this is the time we really could do with a soak in a hot bath.’

‘Yeah - be great wouldn’t it? We’ve got the tin bath we use for the kids.’

‘God, by the time we mess about filling that, it will be bedtime.’

‘Yeah suppose so. We’ll just have a good wash down when the kids are in bed.

‘Did you see the Red Kite, dad? It was flying really low over the field.’

‘I didn’t son, but I had my bum in the air for most of the afternoon.’

‘Mike,’ Jan scolded, but the children tittered joyously at their fathers’ naughtiness.’Cor it was great, it’s really big and I saw the red feathers on on it – brill.’ David added.

‘What, on my bum?’ Mike continued.

The children roared with laughter, ‘no, the Kite, dad.’

‘Food’s ready,’ Jan announced, ‘wash your hands kids.’

‘It’s back to school on Monday, kids.’ Breakfast time Saturday morning, and another week had slipped away. Mike was having yet another coffee and cigarette before he ventured outside into the pouring rain.

‘Already Mum?’

‘Yes, sorry, Mandy, back to school.’

‘When’s the next holidays.’

‘Not until Christmas.’

‘Christmas,’ Mandy shrieked.

‘Oh dear, I shouldn’t have said that should I?’ Jan said regretfully, thinking of the added expense.

‘Christmas, oh, yeah, Christmas, can I have an Action Man, Dad?’ David came to life with a vengeance, he always had a ready mental list of things he wanted.

‘Calm down, calm down everyone, it’s a long time to Christmas.’

‘How much dad,’ Mandy asked, her little face creased with concern.

‘Oh, months and months,’ Mike said with great seriousness. This seemed to pacify her and she continued half-heartedly eating her cornflakes.

‘What are you going to do today, Mike?’

‘Well, I was going to start doing up Mandy’s room, but I think I’ll make a start on another pig pen for the young ones. They will have to be weaned soon so we can get her back to the boar. Keith’s got a boar but getting her there is going to be a problem. And we’ll need space in the barn for Primrose. When the weather gets really bad we should bring her in. And she’ll need hay later on; we’ll have to buy some in for this year. I’m going to make our own next year we’ve got plenty of land for it. I wonder if Keith has any for sale. I suppose I could take a drive over there; trouble is I never know when he’s home.’

‘Is hay expensive?’

‘No idea, love. Anyway, better see to Pinky, she’s always starving,’ Mike said, struggling to get into his Wellingtons.

‘Shouldn’t Primrose be calving soon?’

‘Any day now, if Mucky Mary is right. But I’ve got a feeling she gave us the wrong date, she said it was to be about the same time as Pinky. Perhaps we should get Keith over to look at her,’ he paused, and experienced one of his instantaneous sexual opportunity moments. They were getting less frequent in his new environment however today he couldn’t help thinking that perhaps this was the excuse to get Chris to call, ‘or Chris of course,’ he concluded.

‘I should think she has enough to do without traipsing over to look at a cow.’

Mike was disappointed at the put down, ‘okay I’m off then.’ Mike donned his Wellingtons and waterproof coat and braved the great outdoors.

The heavy rain was still falling, but in the barn Mike was dry and warm under the temporary roof. The new pig pen walls were growing slowly and he had stopped for a smoke, admiring his piggy charges as he did so. He was disturbed from his reverie by the sound of a vehicle coming into the yard and he walked outside to see the post van coming into view.

‘Something good today I hope,’ Mike held out his hand for the bundle of letters.

‘Well you never know, they could be full of cheques,’ Postie said with a little laugh, and the little red van rattled out of the yard. Mike began going through the letters has he walked to the house and a flash of excitement crossed his face.

‘Guess what Jan, the phone people have replied at last,’ Mike tore the letter open.

‘Good news I hope,’ Jan’s countenance clouded with concern, she was developing an aversion to brown envelopes – and bills.

‘Yeah - for once. They say because we had a phone back home they will be putting it in for free, even though they have to run the cable all the way back to the Top road. And blimey,’ Mike was now really pleased at the contents, ‘because we are a business it will be done as soon as possible - perhaps next week. Bloody hell, how about that, Darl?’

‘Daddy swore, Mum,’ Mandy, cutting out bits of paper on the kitchen table, sighed disapprovingly.

‘Oh, I’ll forgive him this time, sweetheart, he’s a bit excited,’ Jan grinned, her anticipatory cloud of doom had lifted and she was happy because Mike was happy. ‘That’s fantastic news, love, about time something went our way.’ They gave each other a little hug, and Mike began reading it through again.

‘Might has well have your elevenses now you’re in.’

‘Good idea, lets celebrate.’

‘Toast and Marmy?’

‘Yep, please,’ Mike licked his lips, ‘lovely grub.’

‘Me too, Mum,’ Mandy chirped.

‘And me,’ David appeared from nowhere. Children have such a nose for food.

‘I have an idea,’ Mike announced, Jan, and the children fell silent. They could tell by the smirk on his face that one of his funny moments was imminent, and the kids waited in gleeful anticipation.

‘I thought,’ he paused, relishing the moment and spread some butter on his toast, ‘as a treat we could, tonight,’ he paused again, ‘go and see that film, Door Handles and Brushes. Mandy and David yelled with delight, ‘It’s Bed knobs and Broomsticks, dad, not what you said,’ David corrected, laughing happily.

‘And,’ Mike continued, ‘fish and chips afterwards.’ One would think he had offered them bars of gold, they leapt about the place demented with pleasure.

But that cloud came again and lingered over Jan’s head and she whispered to Mike. ‘What about the money? It will cost at least sixty pence each - and the fish and chips. I don’t think I’ve got that much in my purse.’

‘It’s okay, don’t worry; your dad slipped me a tenner before he left. I was keeping it towards Christmas - but what the hell. We haven’t taken the kids out for months.’

Jan was relieved that the children were not to be disappointed, and a warm glow of love for her father came over her. ‘I think dad realised we’re short of money.’

‘Yeah he’s a good bloke, I like him a lot. We get on really well.’ Mike said warmly.

‘I’ll check in the local paper, see what time the film starts. Oh, and I won’t have to cook tonight will I?’ Jan was delighted at the thought.

‘That’s right love, you can have the night off, not that you deserve it,’ Mike teased.

‘Cheeky devil, no coffee for you now,’ she laughed.

‘Dad, can we have ice cream as well?’ Mandy chirped, pushing her luck while the going was good.

‘We’ll see what we can do, if your really good that is. Otherwise it’ll be chicken pies for you.’

‘Oh no dad, I’ll be good, honest,’ Mandy promised in eager tones.

‘Here it is,’ Jan said rustling through the local paper, ‘The Coliseum,’ sounds posh doesn’t it, starts at seven and this is the last day.’

Mike was struck by further possible leisure opportunities.

‘Why don’t I finish up with the pen building, and then we can drive up to this Abersoch place this afternoon. Have a look around the town, have our fish and chips and on to the flicks. Have a little holiday before school next week, ‘cos the clocks go back tonight. We won’t be going any where much then will we?’

This was revolutionary talk. An afternoon off from their labours? And a meal out, albeit a simple one. The kids were enthusiastic; even they could not live on green fields alone. Since moving in they hadn’t had any family outings or been anywhere of real interest, and many of the surrounding towns and villages were just names on the map.

‘Can we spend our pocket money that Nana and gramps gave us,’ David liked spending money.

‘Don’t see why not, kids, Chris said there are plenty of shops,’ Jan smiled benevolently.

‘That’s settled then, right I’ll finish up in the barn and we can all get ready for the off.’

Mike strode to the barn in a happy mood, and whistling an invented melody between puffs on his cigarette. Even the rain had stopped and he was really looking forward to the rest of the day.

‘There you go Pinky, early feed today, I’m going on holiday this afternoon.’ Mike lent over the pen wall to place the food in the trough,’oh no, bloody hell what’s happened now.’