‘Tomato salad is just tomato and onion then?’ I said, ‘I think even I can manage that.’
‘There’s more to it than that,’ said Larry pretending to be offended. ‘It’s all in the mixing and the dressing. And it should have olives as well.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Got any olives?’
‘What do you think? Olives!’
‘No, okay then.’
Larry swept the chopped onion and tomato into the bowl.
‘Do you think he’ll come down for his tea?’
I glanced at the clock: 5.25pm. ‘Well, I hope so. He must be starving; he’s eaten nothing since breakfast.’
We stopped clattering about and strained to listen.
‘Ssh. Here he comes,’ I grabbed the quick-cook pasta, ‘look normal!’
He was wearing my great big sunglasses and carrying a piece of paper, presumably to draw a map.
‘You doing a map?’
No reply.
‘What have you been doing this afternoon?’
No reply.
‘Did you look at that Maths I sent you?’
Sam stayed silent. He stretched his arm across the table and leant his head on it while he worked on his map: Rectangle for House, squares for windows, farmyard, barn, Wildwood, Hell Fire Pass, big skull and crossbones and so on. He squinted at it as he kept his nose buried in his sleeve, presumably trying to avoid the smell of Larry’s sauce simmering on the cooker.
I didn’t bother asking him what he wanted – I put 19 pieces of pasta to boil and dug the butter out the fridge.
‘Okay,’ said Larry, dragging my attention back to the cooking, ‘so the secret is the dressing which is olive oil . . .’ He glugged a load of oil on the tomatoes. ‘Plenty of salt . . . more than looks good for you . . . and a little drop of cold water . . . just a bit . . . a good mix round and that’ll be perfect when Duncan comes in.’
We both looked at the clock.
‘I’ll go and give him a hand with the calves,’ said Larry, then, lowering his voice, ‘That might keep him quiet,’ and he gave me a wink.
Sam was doing that trick of chewing each piece of pasta five times. He appeared to be fairly forcing it down, almost gagging on every mouthful. I wracked my brains for something to cheer him up. That goose thing had floored him.
Earlier on I’d got Duncan to take the Land Rover down the field to search for it and, if it really existed, to pick it up – I didn’t want Sam seeing it again when he went to Jeannie’s. Duncan found it down in the meadow like Sam had said and he’d brought it back and thrown it by the midden; the foxes would find it and make short work of it over the next night or two.
‘Shall we go to Jeannie’s in a bit?’ I said, ‘Maybe she’ll – ’ but as soon as the words were out Sam sat bolt upright and dropped his fork with a clatter into his bowl.
‘No!’ he shouted. ‘I do not want you to go to Jeannie’s.’
‘Okay, okay.’ His eyes were welling up and he buried his face in the crook of his arm. ‘It’s okay, Sam. The goose has gone.’
He raised his head and blinked at me. ‘The goose has gone?’ He sounded like he’d heard a miracle.
‘Yes, it’s gone,’ I said, not mentioning the midden and the foxes. ‘You’ll not see the goose again, don’t you worry. There’s nothing to be frightened of.’
‘Are you sure the goose has gone?’
‘Yes, positive.’
I was pleased; it looked as if I’d done the right thing for once.
‘So shall I come to Jeannie’s with you then?’
‘No!’ knocking his fork on the floor and abandoning his pasta, he scrambled out of his chair and dashed upstairs.
Chapter 44
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Can a dead body be brought back to life?
Truestory
Date: 19 June 2014
Time: 17.45
Chocolate Moustache You were right when you said it is difficult to tell when something is really dead. I have had good news. Instead of seeing a death I think I saw a ‘near death experience’.
Re: Can a dead body be brought back to life?
Sweet Cheeks
Date: 19 June 2014
Time: 17.49
Wow! Truestory! Did you see a long tunnel and white lights and things? My granny was met by a blue-eyed Burt Reynolds. She knew she was dead because in real life Burt’s eyes were brown. She wasn’t embarrassed even tho she was in her nightie because he was really nice. Can’t ask her about it now tho cos she’s dead for real.
Re: Can a dead body be brought back to life?
Sweet Cheeks
Date: 19 June 2014
Time: 17.50
She died another time, not that time.
Re: Can a dead body be brought back to life?
Truestory
Date: 19 June 2014
Time: 17.51
I did not have the ‘near death experience’ I witnessed it.
Re: Can a dead body be brought back to life?
Sweet Cheeks
Date: 19 June 2014
Time: 17.52
Oh, right.
Re: Can a dead body be brought back to life?
Truestory
Date: 19 June 2014
Time: 17.53
I have checked on the internet and it says near death experiences happen to 15 per cent of the population of the United States of America. I have extrapolated from that that they must also happen to 15 per cent of the population of the UK. This is good news.
Re: Can a dead body be brought back to life?
Sweet Cheeks
Date: 19 June 2014
Time: 17.54
If you say so Truestory.
Chapter 45
‘This weather keeps up, we can mow Long Meadow tomorrow.’ Duncan sniffed at his pasta sauce, a bit like Sam might have done if he’d dared go near it. He speared a single piece of pasta, examined it and in slow motion began to chew. His chewing quickened: ‘Mmm,’ he said, ‘not bad.’ Then remembering Long Meadow he said, ‘Anyway, we’ll be baling and carting the day after, so we’ll need all hands on deck.’
The sauce was delicious but I didn’t say anything. Duncan was going to need Larry’s help with the haymaking over the next couple of days – it’d save paying anybody else. This was a chance to get Duncan and Larry back on good terms so I thought it best not to sing Larry’s praises for his cooking.
‘It’s a team effort when we haymake,’ he said.
‘Aye,’ said Larry. ‘Well, whatever I can do.’
‘I drive the tractor and trailer up and down the field,’ I said. ‘Duncan’s on the trailer stacking the bales and usually we pay one of the Johnson lads to lift the bales onto the trailer, but we won’t need them now you’re here. Sam perches on top of the bales as lookout – though I dunno what he’s looking out for. Oh, and Jeannie turns up with tea and cakes when she feels like it.’
I grinned at Larry. ‘It’s hard work, haymaking, but it’s quite good – it’s a real team effort and Sam joins in too. You’ll be a good help,’ I said.
‘Hope so.’
I passed the tomato salad to Duncan and he peered into the bowl.
‘What the tomatoes in? Water?’
‘It’s dressing,’ I said, resisting the urge to say ‘Larry’s dressing’. I leant over and helped myself to a big spoonful. ‘It’s delicious.’
Then Sam appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Again he was wearing the giant glasses and the bobble hat, but instead of coming to the table he headed towards the washroom door.
‘What you up to?’ I asked.
‘I’m going to Jeannie’s,’ he said.
‘Oh, right.’ I watched him, head down as he dashed through the kitchen. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ I shouted after him.
He shook his head. ‘No, I do
not want you to come with me,’ he said, and he shot outside.
Three days later Duncan and Larry had done the mowing and the baling and we were ready to cart the hay back to the barn.
Sam came with us to ride on the trailer and climb on the bales as he always did, wearing his huge padded earphones over his bobble hat to block out the roar of the tractor. It was never easy to get Sam’s attention and the earphones and hat didn’t help but, as he clambered onto the trailer, he seemed even more distracted than ever.
He’d been down at Jeannie’s a lot over the past two or three days and they seemed to be in the middle of some project or other. He wouldn’t tell me what they were up to but it was keeping his mind busy. I thought they might be cooking up plans to get Sam away from the farm. I hoped so. Or maybe they were drawing up an outrageous wish list with crazy things like flying to Mars or travelling through time. Whatever it was, I wasn’t invited. Sam insisted he go down there by himself. Perhaps they were planning a surprise – some crazy art project: a 3D map, a family portrait? Or maybe a tea party after the success of the barbecue? But I really hoped it was a project to get Sam away from Backwoods – even if only by a few hundred yards, for a few minutes. Anything would be a start.
Sam sat on the trailer beside Larry and Duncan. Before I pulled away I turned round to check everyone was ready and I was struck afresh by how distracted Sam looked. Instead of dangling his legs over the back of the trailer like usual, he was curled up in a ball with his chin resting on his knees, hugging himself.
Duncan banged on the trailer to tell me they were ready and I set off with a jolt. We bounced and lurched through the yard gate, across the lane and into Long Meadow, the field behind Jeannie’s cottage. Larry jumped down and started to lift and heave the bales onto the lorry as Duncan stacked them.
I inched the tractor up and down the field, stopping every few minutes, to let Larry and Duncan catch up and snatch a breath. The bales piled up and Sam clambered on top of each new layer keeping out of Duncan’s way. Eventually the bales were so high Duncan handed down the pitchfork to Larry who speared the bales and heaved them above his head on the fork for Duncan to grab and stack.
Eventually Duncan yelled: ‘Load!’ and I trundled out of the field, across the lane and to the barn and backed the trailer in. Duncan threw the bales off the trailer while Larry and I stacked them in the barn.
It was hot and dusty. Usually around now Jeannie turned up with a billy can of tea and a basket of cakes. We’d all shout ‘here she is!’ and ‘what kept you?’ and slump on a bale and gulp down the tea. But not today. Every minute or two, I glanced at the barn door but there was no majestic silhouette with a big cloak, a hat, a basket of cakes and a billy can.
‘Not like Jeannie not to turn up,’ I said to Sam.
He was heaving against a bale, trying to roll it off the trailer and he was still wearing his earphones even though the tractor was turned off. I stretched up and nudged the earphone off one ear.
‘Why don’t you go and see if Jeannie’s about? It’s not like her not to be here.’ He frowned. ‘She’ll feel left out if she’s not part of the haymaking,’ I said.
‘Well . . . ’ He was thinking about it.
‘Or I could run down.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I will go.’
He scrambled across the hay, jumped down and ran out of the barn. As he went I could hear him counting his steps.
By now Larry and Duncan were stripped to the waist. It was boiling and they were sweating. It was impossible not to compare them as they bent and lifted and stacked. Duncan was broad and muscular after a lifetime of physical graft and his skin was permanently tanned. There was no fat on him at all. Larry was much slimmer, muscly too, but more on the wiry side. There was no fat on him either.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘What?’ They’d finished and were both wiping their heads and necks with their shirts and looking at me.
‘What’s so funny?’ repeated Duncan. ‘You’re standing there with a grin on your face.’
‘Am I?’ I could feel myself blushing. ‘God, I don’t know.’
Sam hurtled back into the barn out of breath and still counting.
‘Jeannie can’t make tea. She is busy.’
‘Really? Busy?’
‘Yes.’
‘Busy doing what?’
Sam frowned then repeated: ‘She is busy.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Right, okay.’
I was surprised; Jeannie liked to join in and it was always a fun moment when she unveiled the fancy chocolate cake or orange cake she’d whizzed up as soon as she saw us out with the trailer. We’d never asked her to bring the tea, but over the years it had become part of the ritual.
‘Well, I suppose I’d better put the kettle on then.’ I jogged across the yard and into the house. I leant against the kitchen wall and, as I bent over to knock my boots off, a pair of arms went round me. ‘Hey,’ I said, ‘watch it,’ and burst out laughing. I wrenched my boots off, still laughing as Larry squeezed my waist. ‘I was just admiring you,’ I said. ‘You were born to work with half your clothes off.’
I straightened up and spun round and the smile froze on my face because it wasn’t Larry, it was Duncan. He looked delighted at the compliment and it must have distracted him from the look of alarm on my face.
‘Well, thank you, Madam, as a matter of fact I was,’ and he gave a sarcastic little salute. Then he squeezed my waist again, ran his hands over my hips and pulled me to him and kissed me.
As he did so I saw Larry through the back door, wandering across the yard smoking a fag.
I gave a half-laugh and pulled away. ‘Let me get the kettle on, Duncan. My throat’s as dry as a bone.’
He didn’t want to let go and he squeezed my hips again. ‘You look good with some colour in your cheeks, Alice,’ he said. ‘You’ve caught a bit of sun.’
Larry watched halfway across the yard. He dragged on his fag and squinted through the kitchen door.
‘Duncan, let me go, I’m gasping for a drink,’ I said.
He laughed. ‘Okay then, but that suntan suits you.’
He let me go and I strode across to the sink.
‘Funny about Jeannie not coming,’ I said, to change the subject. My heart was racing and I felt jittery. ‘It’s not like her.’
‘Oh, she’ll be busy with her cats and dogs or some spell or other.’
I grabbed the mugs from the cupboard. ‘Don’t be mean.’
‘She’ll turn up this afternoon, like a bad penny, don’t you worry. We’ve got another few loads yet.’
Sam came in and ripped off his earphones and bobble hat. His hair was stuck to his head with sweat.
I handed him a glass of water and he gulped it down.
‘Where’s Larry?’ asked Duncan. He looked at Sam who stared right past him so he repeated: ‘Where’s Larry got to?’
‘Larry has got to his caravan,’ said Sam, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
‘He’s probably sneaking a quick beer,’ said Duncan and he laughed to himself. ‘I gave him the hardest work this morning. I’m not sure he’s used to it.’ He plonked himself at the table. ‘Perhaps he hasn’t done as much hard graft as he reckons.’
‘He did a good job,’ I felt stung on Larry’s behalf. He’d got the harder job and he’d done it well. Duncan shouldn’t suggest he hadn’t been up to it.
‘Aye, well, we got it done.’ Duncan watched Sam finish his water. ‘Maybe you’d like the job of throwing the bales up this afternoon?’
‘Don’t tease him, Duncan,’ I said. ‘You’re fine on lookout, aren’t you, Sam? You can tell me if I’m going to run over something – ’
Sam interrupted me.
‘I will not be on lookout this afternoon. I am going to Jeannie’s.’
‘Did she ask you to go and help her with something?’ I said.
‘No, she did not ask me to go and help her with something.’
‘So what
is it then? What are you both up to?’
Sam’s eyes flew to my face, as if he was looking for clues.
‘We are up to nothing,’ he said, hardly moving his lips.
‘I didn’t mean you were up to something you shouldn’t be. I just wondered if you were making plans or anything, but tell me it’s none of my business if you want.’
‘It is none of your business,’ he said. He put his glass on the table and headed for the back door.
When he’d disappeared I said, ‘I’m going to Jeannie’s tonight to see what they’re up to.’
‘Leave them to it, Alice. Stop interfering. What harm can they do?’
‘Well nothing, except anything can lead to trouble with Sam.’
‘You’re over-reacting, Alice. For God’s sake, leave ’em alone.’
I took my cup to the sink and rinsed it. I didn’t argue because I didn’t want to have a row with the haymaking half done, but being accused of over-reacting infuriated me – only someone not in the front line could be smug enough to accuse me of ‘over-reacting’.
‘I’ll go and get Larry,’ I said.
‘No.’ said Duncan. He stood up leaving his tea half drunk. ‘I’ll go.’
I drove the tractor and trailer into the yard. I wished Sam was joining us. Haymaking was the only time he was anything like other farm kids. I was sad he was missing out.
Larry and Duncan came round the house.
Duncan shouted to Larry over the tractor. ‘Do you want to stack on the trailer for this load? It’s probably easier.’
‘Nah,’ said Larry. ‘I’ll do the lifting, no problem,’ and he jumped on the trailer without acknowledging me.
Duncan knocked on the trailer. I turned round before I pulled away and I could swear he was smirking.
Larry ended up doing the hardest graft on every load. As the afternoon wore on there was less and less talking. Each time the tractor was turned off, as we unloaded in the barn, the only sound was Duncan doing a tuneless whistle.
We stopped for another cuppa, but there was neither sight nor sound of Sam or Jeannie, so I brewed up and we made do with digestives.
Truestory Page 22