The Smallholder Pt. 02

It will definitely help to have read part one! Some sex in this part.

NINE

Not for the first time, Angela's thoughts and emotions were in turmoil. One or other of the paramedics was working on Gerard most of the time, but the noise and the lurching of the aircraft gave her little room for thought. Then she accompanied the stretcher into the hospital until Gerard was taken to Intensive Care and she had to wait in the waiting room until a nurse came to see her.

"We're monitoring him and he's been sedated to help him. He won't be conscious until tomorrow afternoon. Go home and get some sleep."

"Will he be all right?" she asked; it had all seemed so much of an emergency.

"The chances are in his favour; you looked after him very well. If his heart holds out, and it seems strong enough, he should pull out of the lung problems, but you need to be rested."

She nodded and thanked the nurse and left the hospital, walking out into the damp darkness. She was grateful that Gerard had been brought to their local hospital, though 'local' was five miles away from where he lived. It was sleeting lightly, and she wondered if it was snowing up in the hills where Joseph was.

She considered phoning her brother for a lift, but couldn't face him and his sanctimonious and critical comments. She hailed a taxi and paid the extortionate fare to Gerard's flat. She remembered her car was at Joseph's and that she would be without it for a while.

Joseph! In a moment of clarity she remembered that she had made an arrangement with him to stay the week. She had shown him by a number of hints that she fancied him, and then had left him without a backward glance to go with Gerard to hospital, and had done that after everything she had learned about Gerard and what he had done to Joseph!

The taxi arrived at the house and she paid the driver and made her way in. It was cold in the house and she fired up the central heating and switched on the electric fire in the living room.

She was hungry. She looked in the fridge and realised that by leaving on Saturday morning early, she had not done the shopping. The fridge was full of ready meals. Gerard had done the shopping! She selected a beef risotto and microwaved it. It was passable and filling, but she couldn't help but think about Joseph's cooking.

As she ate she thought idly over what had happened. Why had she left Joseph to come back with Gerry? Then it came to her. Gerry had no one else. The thought came as a shock. She knew nothing of his present family and it had never occurred to her to ask. His 'friends' were really only acquaintances; she wondered how many of those who drank with him would lift a finger if he were in trouble. Most of their close friends were her friends, and even they did not seem to warm to him. The exception was her brother, and she had given up trying to understand him years ago.

After Angela and Gerard had met at a club and had started to date, she thought it prudent to ask around about his background, only to find that no one knew his history, though it was common knowledge he hailed from Wigan, a satellite town west of the city. For most people it was enough that he was entertaining and generous with his money.

He had told her that the town was Wigan, but that he was sick of people cracking jokes about Wigan Pier and pies.

He was so attractive that she had been delighted when he had made overtures to her. Though he spoke of his childhood in Wigan and his following its rugby club, and though he talked about his University life at Cambridge and his successes as a sales managing director, she, like everyone else, still had known nothing about his family or his social life before he arrived in their area of the city. It simply never came up.

Now she thought she knew why he kept quiet about his past and the secret it held.

Really she already knew it was over with Gerard. She knew he did have redeeming qualities and she had been able to cope with his manipulative and domineering ways, but it was the moment he had left her on the hillside, then his aggressive and violent confrontation with her at Joseph's, and of course the business of Joseph's wife and child that clinched it for her.

She would move her stuff out the next day. Her flat began to feel very attractive and she needed to take stock of her life. Then she remembered she had no car. She recalled that she was on Gerard's insurance on his second car; he had never allowed her near the Porsche, but she could use the Lexus.

Her thoughts drifted to Joseph and she felt a rush of warmth. Joseph was the diametric opposite of Gerard. Her mind filled with the memory of her short time with him. He was so peaceful, calm, collected and thoughtful for her all the time, self-sacrificing even.

After Gerard's dreadful behaviour towards him, he went out after him in case he was in trouble, brought him back and was responsible for his survival. She still could not fathom how he could do that to the man who stole his wife and child and who had tried to humiliate Joseph further by attempting to adopt the little girl.

Angela wondered if Gerard was right and that she would not be able to survive living the life that Joseph lived? She had always been a city girl as Gerry had said, used to all the luxuries that city life affords.

Then she remembered her misgivings about Joseph's adequacy as a husband, and her worries about his solitary state.

She was realistic enough, she thought, to know that it was one thing to go there for a break from normal life, quite another to live like that.

She decided to ask Greta. Greta would have answers. Greta was wise beyond her years. She picked up the phone and dialled.

"Greta," said the woman at the other end abruptly. It was her way: efficient and decisive.

"Greta it's Angela. Could you come round tomorrow morning?"

"Yes. I'm on nights from tomorrow. What time?"

"Early?" Angela said tentatively.

"Eight?" came the immediate reply.

"Thanks. Come for breakfast?"

"OK." Click.

That's Greta, thought Angela, never a superfluous word. She went to bed feeling much better. She had not noticed that contrary to her usual practice, she had not switched on either the radio or the TV all evening.

Next morning she told her friend that she was leaving Gerard, and would Greta help clear her stuff out of his house. Greta asked why and Angela asked if they could talk about it when the move was complete. Greta shrugged and agreed. The sleety rain had stopped and the day was fine and sunny if cold, so the move went without a hitch.

"You remember me telling you about Gerry leaving me on a mountainside and this man Joseph finding me and saving me?" Angela began after they had eaten lunch.

"Keith picked you up, didn't he?"

"Pompous little prick," muttered Angela, "accused me of knowing Joseph before and making up the story to stay with him."

"That's what Gerry told everyone - not true?"

"Not true. How could Gerry have known that? No one knew where I was until Joseph went down the track to send my text and let the mountain rescue know. He saved my life, Greta, I would have died of exposure if his dog hadn't found me."

"Gerry said that was a load of baloney."

"He would. Anything to avoid admitting he could have killed me, going off like that. Anyway, Gerry certainly learned about exposure when he came to the cottage after me."

"Gerry came after you? That's why he's in hospital now?"

"In his Porsche, in a snowstorm. Of course he was his usual aggressive and overbearing self. He insulted Joseph very badly and told me – told me, Greta – to pack and go with him."

"And you refused," it was a bald statement made with a grim smile.

"Yes. Then Gerry said he was going. Joseph advised him not to go: the track and the roads would be impassable for a Porsche, but he sneered at Joseph, told him he was a wimp and he, Gerry, knew how to handle his car. Then he left."

"And?"

"Joseph told me to wrap up warm and we would go after him. He seemed to know that Gerry wouldn't make it. I was amazed after the way Gerry treated Joseph that Joseph would want to go after him. I didn't realise how dangerous the snowstorm was."

"And?"

"We found him, sitting under a bush and delirious. The car had gone off the track and instead of coming back to the cottage, he'd been going towards the village. Joseph knew what to do; it saved Gerry's life."

"But you came back with Gerry."

"Don't know why, it was a reflex action really. After what he did to Joseph, I'm finished with him."

"So Joseph looked after Gerry even though he had insulted him, and you thought you ought to follow his example?"

Angela had not thought of that. "Perhaps," she said.

"You're really taken with this guy," Greta said. "At least that's what you implied. He's really made an impression, no?"

"He's very special."

"You fancy him!" crowed Greta. "That's why you went back to see him – you fancy him!"

Angela blushed and Greta laughed heartily.

"Nothing wrong with you wanting him," said Greta when she had calmed down.

"He's lovely. So gentle and calm and peaceful. That's what I want to talk to you about. The thing is, I do fancy him, and I think he's interested in me."

"Which sentient male wouldn't be? So what's your problem? Go for it!"

"It's not as easy as that. He's had a lot of tragedy in his life. His father owned a factory but died in an accident, his mother went to pieces and he was trying to run the factory and look after her. His wife obviously thought she was being neglected, found another man and walked out on him without warning, taking their little daughter with her. Then the man she went off with with killed them both in a road accident. And his mother committed suicide and left a note blaming Joseph for his father's death."

"Good God!" exclaimed Greta, "That's appalling!"

Angela nodded and continued.

"Joseph broke down and became something of a recluse. He goes to the local pub but that's about all. He has a smallholding – chickens, goats, pigs. He grows his own food. He makes his own electricity from a stream and wind turbines; he cuts down trees in his own wood for heating in winter.

"But would you credit it? He has no phone, no mobile signal, no TV, no radio – no that's not right, he has a wind-up radio but I've never seen it. He writes – a novel I think he's writing.

"The thing is, Greta, I don't know if I can live like that. I mean, it's ok for a relaxing break, but full time? I've always lived in towns, I like clubbing, my comfortable flat, theatre, you know what I like. I don't know if I could give it all up for a very quiet life in the country."

Greta was about to interrupt when Angela held up her hand.

"And another thing. I wonder about his wife. Perhaps he's not very much fun to live with, not much to write home about in bed, you know? It would account for why she left him. So I don't know what to do."

Greta thought for a moment. Then looked up.

"If what you're saying is true, he's not a good catch, but even though you have listed all the problems, you are undecided. So you must be very attracted to him. You are, aren't you?"

Angela nodded with a smile.

"You say he's gentle, kind, thoughtful. You say he seems to be interested in you, though he's not made any moves. Well, I'd say he may be worth a try. Look, you can shack up with him on a provisional basis, see what he's like in bed, what he's like to live with after the novelty's worn off. See if you like the life, and don't forget, if he falls for you, he may change – become more outgoing, more fun. Can you lose?"

Angela shook her head with another smile.

"Can you afford not to try?" asked Greta.

Angela thought for a moment and again shook her head. "So I play it by ear?"

"Exactly. Let's face it, you've hardly been with him very long, have you? You may find he isn't interested in you!" and she laughed out loud, as if to say, 'Like as if!'

In the afternoon Angela went with Greta to visit Gerard. They found him sitting in a chair by his bed and, while pale, he seemed to have much of his spirit back, but his voice was weak.

"They're letting me home tomorrow," he said, "Can you get a chicken for roasting? I feel like celebrating!"

"No, Gerry," Angela told him quietly. "I've moved out."

"You've what?"

"I've moved out. We're finished, Gerry. It's over. I can't live with you any more."

"It's that fucking Joseph, isn't it?"

"No, it isn't. It's what you did to him. To his wife and child."

Greta started at this, and shot her a puzzled look. It went unnoticed by both the others.

"He wasn't man enough for her and he's not man enough for you. Don't be stupid Angie."

"Not man enough? You know perfectly well what the matter was with their marriage: His father died in that accident, then his mother went to pieces, and he was running the company as well."

"Gave you that sob story, did he? Face it, Angie, he was a failure as a business man and a failure as a husband. You can't run a business, be a nursemaid and a husband."

"Well, Gerry, you certainly saved his wife and child didn't you? You certainly improved their lives, didn't you?"

"It was an accident. Everyone knew that."

"Your story Gerry. You drove while drunk. I know who I believe. I've heard enough of your lies."

"What lies? When have I lied to you?"

"Not to me, about me."

"Yeah, Gerry," broke in Greta, "you remember? Angy was already a lover of Joseph and lagged behind so that she could stay with him? God, you're a piece of work."

"What about his lies?" Gerry said with some anger. "You were suffering from exposure! What does he know? He used it to get you to stay. If Keith hadn't gone for you, he'd have had you in his bed."

"Oh," Greta interrupted, "So Angie didn't know him earlier? She hadn't been shagging him?"

"And," added Angela, "he saved your sorry life."

"I'd have been all right," Gerard asserted. "I just needed a rest. I was well on my way when he came interfering."

"You forget I was there, Gerry," Angela said heatedly. "You were semi-conscious, and you nearly died. Joseph did everything to save your life, and he succeeded. What I can't understand is why he bothered at all after what you did to him."

"Listen, you stupid bitch. He knows nothing, and apart from getting me back to the cottage, he did nothing but call the medics. Don't give me that 'saviour' nonsense."

"Goodbye Gerry," Angela face was suffused with rage. She turned and left the ward never looking back.

"You're a louse, Gerry," added Greta. "A fucking waste of space," and she left in her turn.

"Wait up, Angie!" Greta called after her. Angela stopped and let her catch up. They walked together to the car.

"What was that about? What did Gerry do?"

"Remember I told you Joseph's wife left him? It was Gerry seduced her."

"But you said the man killed..."

"That's right. Gerry had a party to celebrate her divorce and drove off the road drunk afterwards and into a tree. Killed the wife and the child. After all that, Joseph paid for the funeral. He carried his little daughter's coffin! Gerry survived relatively unhurt but would have nothing to do with the family. He didn't even go to the funeral."

A long silence ensued then, "Bloody Hell! After all that Joseph looked after him – saved his life?"

Angela nodded.

"Go after that man," Greta said decisively. "He's one in a million. Wow, that's something special. That's really cool!"

"You don't think Gerry's right? That he wasn't much of a husband?"

Greta thought for a while. It was what Angela valued in her – she thought before she spoke.

"Well," she said at length, "It often happens that after a tragedy a couple breaks up. I think Joseph tried to do right by his mother and the factory workers and also by his wife, but his wife felt neglected. He was probably depressed and perhaps his wife found it hard to cope. Who knows?"

"He did say he went to pieces after the death of his wife and child,' added Angela. "He went to a monastery, he said, then he sort of sold the part of the business to the workers and bought his little farm."

"Ah, that's why Gerry thinks he was a lousy businessman," agreed Greta. "Gerry would never think of looking after his workers. He's a money man."

"Well, looking at the cottage Joseph lives in, you couldn't say he's dominated by money!" said Angela and she laughed.

---

Long before Angela and Greta began moving her out of Trevor's house that Tuesday morning, In fact before either of the women was awake, Joseph overslept!

For the first time for many years, he overslept. Seven o'clock! He lay back in the warm bed. No meditation that morning. Bob came into the room and put his head on the mattress by Joseph's hand, inviting some loving. Joseph fondled his ears, and rubbed his head, grasping his neck and massaging it.

Bob looked at him with expectation, and Joseph knew he needed to go out for relief and then to have his breakfast. He pulled himself out of bed, and noticed it was very cold. He had gone to bed without making up the boiler for the night. He donned his thick dressing gown, and sitting on the bed pulled on his slippers, then made his way to the front door, opening it for Bob, who rushed outside. Joseph waited behind the door until Bob scratched to be let in. Then it was the dog's breakfast. As he made it the thought crossed his mind, provoking a smile, that the morning was a dog's breakfast so far!

Next came the lighting of the kitchen stove for the central heating and the Aga cooker, and building the fire in each. Then the same thing with the living room stove.

He dressed and wrapped up warm and saw to the animals. The snow overnight seemed to have been light and brief. The dawn was well advanced and the sky had a rosy glow presaging the rising of the sun down the valley. The snow made the morning brighter than usual and he saw the sky was cloudless. It was very cold indeed.

He returned to the kitchen, carrying the eggs and the milk churn. The room was warming nicely. He wondered if Barry would be able to make it with the tractor.

He decided on a treat and cooked himself bacon, eggs, mushrooms and tomatoes with a wedge of fried bread. He was finishing the meal and feeling warm and full for the first time that morning, when he heard the tractor. He poured a mug of tea and made some toast.

Barry came barrelling into the kitchen.

"Blimey!" he grumbled, "It's brass monkeys out there!" He would have added the word 'fucking' but knew that Joe did not like the word.

Joseph laughed.

"Your cab is heated Barry. How was the journey?"

"Fair to middlin'. Needed to use the shovel part of the way, but the plough worked for most of it. Road's clear; the plough and gritter were out in the night. I got the area round the car clear but it'll need some hand work. I got a hoist from Derek at the garage. You comin'?"

"Get the toast and tea in you. There's time. It's not as if you'll be doing much on the farm in this lot."

It turned into a long job, and towards the end it began to snow again. It took most of the morning to remove the Porsche from the edge of the ditch without damaging the undercarriage.

Joseph brought the car back to the cottage, having hitched a lift to the scene on Barry's tractor. He parked the car in the garage, which was in fact an old barn with plenty of room. It was then that he saw Angela's car, sitting under a mound of snow. He had no key and it was locked, so there was nothing he could do.

For the first time that day it reminded him of her and he felt lonely. Twice she had asked to stay longer, and twice had left early. He smiled. Perhaps it was a sign. He went back to the cottage and received a rapturous welcome from Bob. He still had one steadfast friend who was not going to disappear in a hurry. He wondered how Trevor was faring, not that Trevor was a friend in any sense. The snow fell quite gently all afternoon and for the rest of the night.