The Smallholder Pt. 02

That evening he returned to his meditation, and found that he could not concentrate, nor could he still his mind. It was Angela. She flew around his mind and would not let him be. He had memories of her voice, her laugh. He had visions of her body in her underwear, her shape.

He wondered what she might be doing at that moment. He wondered why she had gone so easily with Trevor, knowing him for what he was. He wondered if he had seen the last of her. Too much wondering, he thought as he caught himself.

It was the succession of feelings that went with the queries in his mind that made the hour torture for him. It was not so much the emotions themselves but that he had lost the equilibrium and peace of his meditation hour. It was as if he was starting all over again. He sighed and left his mat.

Thursday 5 February 2009

It was two relatively fine but very cold days later that he and Bob made the journey to the pub in the village. On the return journey the snow began to fall again as it had from time time time all week, but Barry had kept the track clear. There was little wind and the further man and dog walked the heavier it became. He was glad to close the door behind him.

He went to put on his warm slippers. Sitting on the bedroom chair, he bent to put them on, and noticed a scrap of paper far under the bed. He crawled under and picked it up. There was writing on it.

It was her address and phone number. It had been hastily scribbled and he understood she did it when she was getting her stuff together to go with Trevor in the helicopter. It must have blown off the bedside table as she rushed around. He could tell her the track was clear, so she could come and collect her car.

However, when he opened the kitchen door on the Friday morning after another distracted hour of meditation he found that the snow was still falling and had already drifted to a metre deep in places round the cottage. He would not be going anywhere today. He made some porridge and washed it down with some tea, before trudging out to clear a way and see to the livestock. He returned two hours later with the churn of milk and the few eggs the chickens had laid, putting the milk into the fridge to keep it chilled. Barry would not be coming today, he thought.

Then he remembered. Angela had left her phone number, and he deduced that she wanted him to phone her. He laughed out loud at how obvious that thought was. Bob looked at him with head cocked, and Joseph realised he seldom laughed. Well, she knew he would have to travel to get a signal and that would have to wait until the snow stopped, or Barry came and cleared the track again.

He spent the day writing his novel, but his thoughts kept turning towards Angela.

-----

TEN

Friday 20 February 09

The snow lingered for two weeks, though Barry cleared the track after two days. The snow turned to rain, and then began to melt away more quickly. Joseph found his thoughts often turned towards Angela, wondering what she was doing. She had gone back to the life she knew, and to Trevor. He felt he could not blame her. She was a townie after all. Perhaps Trevor was a better partner for a woman than he was. Joseph's wife had never looked back, had she?

Once again Joseph had settled into his daily routines, but somehow life was not so calm for him anymore. Once the snow had gone it was time to send the pigs to the abattoir. He did not mind that part, it was seeing the empty sty, clearing and thoroughly disinfecting it, and having to do that in the dead of winter that he found irksome and uncomfortable.

For one thing, her car sat before the cottage reminding him daily of her. He wondered why she had not come to collect it. Perhaps she was embarrassed to meet him again after what had happened. Any day he was absent from the small holding, he expected the car to be gone, but there it remained. Trevor's car was still there also.

It was on the second Saturday after Trevor had been taken off to hospital with Angela in tow, that another car was seen arriving along the track. Joseph did not recognise it. He waited by the open front door for it to draw to a halt and disgorge its passengers, for there were two occupants.

His face broke into a wry smile as he saw that the passenger was Angela, and the driver was an ash blonde with a Scandinavian look about her. He was happy to see Angela again, but understood immediately that she had really only come to collect her car. Perhaps Trevor had put a time limit on the visit and insisted on a chaperone. He chided himself at that: she needed someone to drive her to collect the car. What was wrong with him, he asked himself. He did not wait for an answer.

"Angela!" he smiled with enthusiasm, "You came back. Come for the car?"

She hugged him to her and kissed his cheek, "For the car and to see you again. I seem to be fated to leave you unexpectedly."

She indicated Greta, "Joseph may I introduce Greta, my best friend. Greta this is Joseph."

"So this is the man you've been raving about?" Greta said with a mischievous grin as she extended her hand.

Joseph took it. She's been raving about me? and his spirits soared. He felt like a teenage boy who'd been told the girl he had a crush on fancied him. He cast a glance at Angela whose face was suffused with embarrassment. So it was true! He laughed inwardly.

"Pleased to meet you Greta."

He felt unaccountably giddy, but controlled himself as they shook hands.

"I told Greta all about your place here," Angela said, recovering her equilibrium. "Would you give her the tour?"

"Oh, yes please," Greta added enthusiastically.

He was sure the blonde batted her eyelashes at him.

"Of course," Joseph said, "before or after coffee?"

"Before, while we're still dressed for outdoors," said Angela.

"Well, come through both," he said standing aside. "I'll get my coat."

Bob came up to Greta wagging his tail, and she fondled his ears. He looked up at her adoringly and Joseph smiled but said nothing. Bob was a good judge of character.

He took them round the house and Angela prattled on to Greta about each room, while Joseph smiled and let her lead the tour. Outside, Angela allowed him to take up the descriptions and he patiently showed Greta the goats, the chickens and the fields. They came to the pigsty.

Angela looked worried. "Where are the pigs, Joseph?"

"Gone," said Joseph. "I'll be getting some new piglets next week."

The two women looked upset, but Joseph said nothing and waited on Angela. He saw light dawn in her eyes.

"Gone to the abattoir?" she asked.

"Yes, they'd reached their ideal weight."

"Don't you find it hard to do that? D'you miss them?"

"No, don't forget I send pigs to the abattoir twice a year. You can't have pork without killing pigs, Greta."

To change the subject, Angela broke in with an excited finger pointing at the wind turbines. He continued, telling Greta about his wood, which they could see in the distance, and through which they had come.

They returned inside and he took their coats to the bedroom while Angela set about making coffee for them.

"You seem very much at home," Greta remarked with a suggestive laugh.

"Don't you feel the same?" Angela retorted, looking over her shoulder at her friend.

"Don't I feel the same as what?" Greta answered, feigning ignorance.

"Sort of feel at home here. Comfortable."

Greta looked about her. "Well, yes, I see what you mean. It's very peaceful and relaxing."

Joseph returned, and sat opposite Greta while Angela continued to make the coffee.

"There are biscuits in the square tin," he pointed out to Angela, and she dutifully put a number out on a plate, setting it and the mugs of steaming liquid before them.

"Home made?" asked Greta.

Joseph nodded. "Most things I eat, I make myself," he said.

"Are you self-sufficient?" Greta asked, "I mean do you have to buy things?"

"Partially," he answered, "Some things, like flour, butter and sugar, dried fruit, meat – that sort of thing – those I buy. Not that I eat a lot of meat. I sell goats' milk, eggs, and the pigs when they're ready, though I get some of their meat back to freeze. Fruit and Veg I store as you saw, and they keep me going most of the year."

"But you live here alone. Aren't you lonely?"

"I don't think so. I've lived here for some years, and Bob keeps me company. I see folk down at the pub, the village and in town, and Barry comes most days to collect milk and eggs for his farm shop. He usually stays for a mug of tea."

"Are you happy, Joseph?" Greta pushed. She sipped the coffee.

"Happy?"

He thought for a moment. "Happy comes from the same root as happen. Happy comes and goes – pristine snow with a sunrise on it, sitting warm and snug while the wind batters the place, a successful day's work, yes. I'm contented, satisfied, complete, fulfilled. This is the life I chose and it works for me. Happiness is the bonus."

"But you have no contact with the outside world – no TV, no radio; hell, no phone! Aren't you bored?" She munched a biscuit, giving a moan of pleasure. "These biscuits are to die for!" she added.

The interrogation from Greta was clearly making Angela more and more uneasy, though she noticed Joseph did not seem to mind.

"Bored? No!" he answered Greta. "There is always something to do when you make your living from a smallholding, and there are my books and my writing."

"And you meditate," added Angela, sipping her coffee.

"Yes." He did not elaborate, for he remembered at that point that it was this girl, this woman, who had disrupted his meditation since she left, though he did not want to admit that out loud.

Greta excused herself to use the bathroom, leaving Angela and Joseph alone. Both independently thought Greta had a plan to leave them there together.

"How's Trev – Gerard?" Joseph asked diffidently. "Has he fully recovered?"

"I don't know," she replied, rather embarrassed at the admission. Somehow she thought he might not approve of her leaving her boyfriend in need. "We're not together any more. He was looking much better the day after we left here."

"Oh," he said. That was all. What could he say? That he was delighted that she was once again single and – was the word available? Was she – to him?

She felt discomfort and added, "It took coming here to realise that we were never really right for each other. He's simply not my type. I don't know why it took me so long."

Another silence; this time it was not comfortable. Both thought independently that Greta was taking a long time about her ablutions!

Joseph felt uncertain and worried about her response to what he wanted to ask her, but he had to ask, and she might in any case go out of his life, which he realised was the last thing he wanted to happen.

"Well," he broke the silence, "You came for a weekend and stayed a day, then you came for four days and stayed for two. Any chance of you coming and actually staying?"

He smiled to lighten the question, in case it should seem resentful, which it was not.

He stopped himself from saying 'for as long as you planned' and didn't know why. Perhaps he did, deep down, but he was not so devious as to leave it ambiguous on purpose. As it was, the ambiguity was not lost on Angela who was rather more worldly.

She did not believe he was capable of such subtlety, but her heart jumped nevertheless. Whatever he meant, it was a real invitation and she knew she would take him up on it. She simply replied from her heart.

"Joseph," she said softly, "there's nothing I'd like more. I've always felt forced by circumstances to leave, but now there's nothing stopping me. I'm a single woman again. But I've no more free time from work beyond weekends until after March, then I have to negotiate."

"Next Friday?" he asked, "Stay till Sunday?"

"Love to!" she enthused.

"It's a date then!" he smiled broadly.

His face was an open book; she knew he wanted her to come. He was not simply being hospitable. She almost knew he wanted her, and felt a surge of happiness. A date!

Greta re-entered the kitchen, affecting not to notice the broad smiles on both faces. She smiled to herself.

"Ready to go?" she asked, with a knowing glance, "though you could stay longer; but I have to go."

"Oh, that reminds me," said Joseph. "Kev... I mean Gerard's, car is still here. He's not been in touch and I don't know his address or phone number. Could one of you ask him what he wants to do? Tell him I've put it in the barn, so it's been protected against the weather."

"I'll see him," said Greta.

"All he has to do is send a tow truck," said Joseph. "It's not in the way, but I would have thought he'd want it back."

"He's got two other cars," said Angela.

Yes, he would have, thought Joseph, and berated himself for a thought he felt was unworthy.

It seemed the right moment for Angela to leave. They stood by her car, and Greta made the first move, taking Joseph by the shoulders and kissing him fully on the lips.

"Thanks," she said. "Thanks for all you've done for my friend, and thanks for all you're going to do."

She winked suggestively, which disconcerted Joseph and caused him some embarrassment. He had little time to recover for Angela, given courage by Greta's action, kissed him in like manner though for longer, and this time he kissed her strongly in return which unaccountably shocked her, though it also excited her.

The two smiled at each other.

"See you Friday," Joseph said, his hands on her shoulders.

She nodded and turned to open the car door. Joseph had long since cleared the snow from its roof and bonnet, the rest having melted, and it started without any trouble.

"I'm counting the days," she said through the open window.

"So am I," he replied, not to be outdone.

The two cars moved off in convoy, and Joseph waved them off, already looking forward with some excitement to the coming weekend.

It was dampened by a visit on Tuesday.

---------

ELEVEN

It was Tuesday morning. Barry had left ten minutes before, and Joseph was on his way to carry out a little maintenance on the wind turbines when he heard more than one car on the track to his cottage. He sighed and retraced his steps to find two people in while coveralls accompanied by two policemen making their way to the farm buildings housing the animals and chickens.

He strode down as they entered the goats' enclosure.

"Hello?" he said, as he approached.

One of the policemen blocked his path, "Just wait there sir, if you don't mind."

"You can tell me what's going on?"

"The RSPCA are inspecting your livestock. There's been a complaint."

"Who's complained? There's been no one by here for weeks."

"Can't tell you that, sir," the arm of the law told him, "Data Protection Act."

The two men waited as the white-coated man and woman went from place to place. Then they approached him.

"Mr Ramsden," the woman said, "Could we talk with you inside, please?"

"Certainly," said Joseph. "Would you like coffee?"

This was declined, but they went into the kitchen and sat at the table.

Joseph waited. The woman looked uncomfortable.

"Mr Ramsden," she said, "We have a problem."

"Is there something wrong with the livestock?" he asked with a worried frown.

"That's just it," said the man, "Everything is perfect. In fact I've seldom seen animals so well cared for. Do you have any enemies? We believe this complaint is malicious."

Joseph thought.

"I've lived here for eight years," he said, "I hardly see anyone. I get on well with Barry Denton from Denton's farm; he sells my eggs and milk. I'm accredited by DEFRA. No I can't think of anyone."

"There's a chance whoever it is has got the address wrong. We're sorry to have troubled you."

The constable stayed after the rest had moved off. He looked serious, "All the same, I noticed you have CCTV and flood lights. Are your buildings alarmed?"

"All the sheds and animal houses have wireless sensors on the doors," Joseph told him, "and the turbines and water screw are alarmed against metal thieves. There's CCTV and flood lighting there as well. Always set them, never had an alarm, except from a fox every now and again."

"I'd be extra careful in the next few weeks," the man of the law replied. "I think someone's got it in for you. You keep guns?"

"Rifle and Shotguns," Joseph said, "all licensed."

"Make sure you call us before going out using them on burglars," the lawman said smiling. "It'll take us some time to reach you, so if you've phoned and then have to use them, you'll probably get arrested, but you'll get off, no case to answer."

After they left, Joseph sat awhile in thought. Perhaps he should have the phone line connected. Who could want to make trouble? Nothing came to him, and he dismissed the whole thing as mistaken identity.

However, he went to the study cupboard and activated the CCTV cameras and recorders and tested the PIR activated alarm for the chicken house, which he had installed when he had fox problems the previous year. Everything worked and he went off to maintain the turbines.

Life went back to normal for the rest of the week, except he booked British Telecom to have the phone connected. There was some discussion about replacing the line from the road, to allow him broadband. He was prepared to pay the considerable price of installation and a booking was made. There were no more surprises and he wondered if he had overreacted.

The only event out of the ordinary was the delivery of a new mattress for the bed upstairs. He decided he was not going to put up with the lumpy old thing that had been there when he moved in and had never been used. What he did next was to get all his normal weekend jobs done so the weekend would be free, apart from the basic care of the animals.

By Friday, Joseph was on edge, but it was not from a threat to his life or property. It was the first time he had invited a visitor to stay and this visitor was Angela. It was a new experience for him, or at least an experience long since forgotten. That Friday morning, as he did all the usual chores, he felt the butterflies in his stomach anticipating Angela's arrival.

Even Barry noticed he was somewhat abstracted as they chatted about this and that over his tea and toast.

"Summat on yer mind?" he asked Joseph.

"I'm embarrassed to admit it, Barry," he replied. "Angela is coming for the weekend and I'm scared to death! It's been..."

"Years since you 'ad a visitor," Barry filled in for him. "Ay lad, tha'll be getting a pretty young lass all te theeself all weekend. Come on lad, she's reet stuck on thee, enjoy!"

"Of course you're right," said Joseph. "I just don't know what she wants, what she's expecting."

"She'll let ye know lad, ne'er worrit about that, women know what they want, and they usually get it! Let her make runnin', go with the flow."

Barry was looking forward to seeing this woman that Sam and Violet at the pub had said was 'a looker'.

Joseph laughed and felt better for the homespun advice. Barry left, chuckling over Joseph getting his hands on such a good looking lass. And being so worried.

Joseph then went shopping in the morning and was happy with his purchases.

He went all over the cottage, cleaning and polishing – not that there was much to polish. He put the best linen on the bed and cleared his stuff upstairs to the other bedroom, making that bed up for himself.

He remembered how uncomfortable Angela was at him sleeping in his chair. He was glad he had thought to buy a new mattress for that bed. Who knew? Perhaps Angela might visit more often if she thought he would be comfortable on the new mattress?

He looked at the second bedroom with new eyes. It was in fact a very pleasant room and that day the sun shone through the window making its spartan appearance almost attractive!