Truestory

by Catherine Simpson

  When the last bale was shoved into place in the barn, Larry and I were done-in but Duncan was fine and still whistling the same tune.

  ‘We’ve earned a few beers tonight,’ he said, grinning at Larry and me.

  ‘Aye,’ said Larry. His shoulders were burnt.

  ‘You’ve caught too much sun,’ I said, not wanting to stare.

  ‘God, Alice,’ said Duncan, ‘stop fussing. He’s used to working outside.’ He started that annoying whistling again. ‘I’m off for a cuppa before milking,’ he said and he strode off to the house.

  I stroked Larry’s shoulder with one finger. ‘I’ve got some cream,’ I said. ‘I’ll put it on for you.’

  Larry shrugged. ‘I’m fine but you’re welcome to fuss over me all you like.’

  ‘I’ll run you a bath. Don’t use that old shower. Come in and have a bath but wait till you hear the milking parlour’s on, okay?’

  Larry nodded then pulled me to him and kissed me.

  Duncan was swilling his tea and looking smug.

  ‘You did that on purpose.’ I said. ‘Giving Larry all the hard work to do.’

  ‘No. I offered many a time to swap, and it’s not a piece of cake stacking anyway.’

  ‘Yeah, but you only offered because you knew he wouldn’t swap.’

  ‘Well that’s his lookout,’ he said, and he grinned at me.

  I slumped in an armchair by the fireplace. I’d planned to go to Jeannie’s to see what they were up to but I was too knackered. Anyway I’d got other plans now. If Jeannie had had a phone I would have called, but she didn’t.

  ‘I’m going to text Sam to see what’s happening,’ I said.

  I texted: Wot u both doing?

  No reply.

  ‘God Almighty, I wish he’d answer me.’

  I texted again: Wots going on. All well?

  No reply.

  Wots going on? We’ve finished carting bales. You 2 busy?

  Sam’s reply came back.

  YES.

  Wot u up to?

  NOTHING.

  Ur busy doing nothing?

  YES.

  I sighed: Ok c u at tea time. Will u stay til then?

  YES.

  Ok c u at half 5

  ‘Christ, that kid should get a job with MI5,’ I said. ‘Talk about playing his cards close to his chest.’

  Duncan laughed. ‘Well, he’s never going to talk you to death, that’s for sure.’ He took the last gulp of tea. ‘Well, them cows won’t milk themselves.’ He went outside, leaving his cup on the table and whistling that same tuneless tune.

  I listened to his footsteps going down the yard and a couple of minutes later the hum of the milking machine being switched on. I dashed upstairs and started running Larry a bath.

  I put some bath salts in and swirled them round. Leaving it running, I went halfway down the stairs and waited for the rattle of the back door latch. After a minute I heard it. I was about to call Larry’s name but that seemed a bit reckless after the near-miss earlier on, so I ran down the last few steps and stuck my head into the kitchen. Larry was standing by the back door.

  ‘Put that in front of the door.’ I pointed to the small metal bucket full of clothes pegs. ‘That’ll make a right racket if someone comes in. I’ve already locked the other door. Come on,’ I nodded towards the bathroom. ‘We’ve got nearly an hour.’

  I sat behind Larry with my back in the curve of the bath and used the old plastic jug from when Sam was little to pour warm water over his shoulders and head.

  ‘Is that stinging?’ I took a closer look at his red shoulders.

  ‘The whole of my body is pretty much on fire,’ he said, ‘but I think this cure is working.’

  He leant his head back and I kissed him upside down feeling the water trickling down his face.

  ‘Duncan was being a prick today,’ he said. ‘He didn’t think I could take it.’ Then he laughed. ‘Actually, he was nearly right.’ He put his hand behind my head and pulled me down towards him and kissed me again. ‘I’m making a pretty good recovery now though.’

  ‘Good,’ I said. I lathered up his hair and massaged his head before rinsing it off.

  ‘Let’s get dry,’ he said, sitting up and sending a wave of bathwater slopping onto the carpet. He turned round and, leaning towards me, he took my nipple in his mouth and sucked it, causing a stab of desire behind my belly button. ‘Come on,’ he said.

  When we were dry, Larry said: ‘After all the work he got me doing today, I think I deserve a lie down,’ and, taking me by the hand, he led me towards our bedroom.

  He got on the bed and pulled me on top of him.

  ‘After all the work I’ve done today, I think it’s your turn,’ he said.

  I looked at the clock. We had twenty minutes.

  Ten minutes later my heart leapt and I jumped off the bed as a crash came from the kitchen; the back door had knocked over the bucket of pegs.

  ‘Get in the bathroom,’ I said, lunging over to the door to listen. Someone’s in the kitchen.’ Larry stood behind me and traced a finger down my spine. I shivered. Then I felt him lift my hair and kiss the back of my neck. ‘No!’ I said, ‘not now. Get in the bathroom, quick.’ I turned, feeling the cold of the door against my bare back. He was half smiling and leant over to kiss me, pushing me harder against the door. He squeezed my breast and the latch dug into my spine. ‘Go on,’ I said, pushing my palms against his chest. ‘And make a lot of noise sloshing the water about.’

  I half opened the door and Larry strolled naked across the landing into the bathroom. I dragged on a T-shirt and some jeans – my hands shaking as I fumbled with the zip. Then I heard someone coming upstairs – it was the soft padding of Sam’s footsteps. My breath froze in my chest as I leant my forehead against the bedroom door. I had to calm down; Larry was having a bath, that was all. After haymaking all day that was no big deal.

  ‘I’ll put tea on in a minute,’ I shouted to Sam. I was taken aback by how normal I sounded – how clear and confident and everyday. No one would have known there was anything different, least of all Sam.

  Chapter 46

  Welcome to U Chat

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  Things are not working out right. What is the solution?

  Truestory

  Date: 22 June 2014

  Time: 18.06

  Things are different in a horrible way. I do not want this.

  Re: Things are not working out right. What is the solution?

  Razzamatazz68

  Date: 22 June 2014

  Time: 18.11

  What was it Mike Jagger said – something about not getting what you want, but getting what you need, or needing what you get or wanting what you need. Anyway, you get the idea – make the most of what life hands you!

  Re: Things are not working out right. What is the solution?

  ChocolateMoustache

  Date: 22 June 2014

  Time: 18.16

  Or as Robert Frost said: The best way out is always through.

  Re: Things are not working out right. What is the solution?

  Playmeright

  Date: 22 June 2014

  Time: 18.19

  Or as I said: Stop moaning and suck it up. Nothing ever works out as we want.That’s life. Deal with it.

  Re: Things are not working out right. What is the solution?

  ChocolateMoustache

  Date: 22 June 2014

  Time: 18.23

  Well, rather brutally put Play Me Right, but yes, we are not necessarily happy if everything goes ‘right’ it’s when things go wrong and we take decisive action to deal with it that we are at our most fulfilled.

  Re: Things are not working out right. What is the solution?

  Sweet Cheeks

  Date: 22 June 2014

  Time: 18.31

  Your not watching
titanic are you? When Jack died I could not believe it! Worst ending ever!! Mind you I still watched it five times. Why did they make Jack die though? Poor Rose. xx

  Re: Things are not working out right. What is the solution?

  JC

  Date: 22 June 2014

  Time: 18.34

  Romans 8:28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

  Re: Things are not working out right. What is the solution?

  Fizzy Mascara

  Date: 22 June 2014

  Time: 18.36

  Yeah, like I’ve said many times, Truestory, do not rely on ‘god’ or ‘magic’ (same thing anyway) but take action and make it happen yourself. You don’t have to announce it mind you. Sometimes you’re as well making stuff happen by working behind the scenes. I’m all for being up front, but there are times you achieve more by being subtle about it.

  Re: Things are not working out right. What is the solution?

  SpiritLove

  Date: 22 June 2014

  Time: 18.46

  Dealing with change is one of life’s opportunities. Our leaflet ‘Embracing Change with Spirit’ is available on our site here at the introductory offer of $1.99. Come on over and chat about it. We are here to help.

  Re: Things are not working out right. What is the solution?

  Fizzy Mascara

  Date: 22 June 2014

  Time: 18.48

  Honestly, action now (however small, however subtle) will make you feel better.

  Re: Things are not working out right. What is the solution?

  Truestory

  Date: 22 June 2014

  Time: 18.51

  I have just looked up ‘subtle’ on my on-line dictionary. It says ‘delicate and precise’. My maps are delicate and precise. It also says ‘using indirect and clever ways of achieving something’. I will give this some thought. Thank you for your help.

  Chapter 47

  After tea Duncan turned the telly on.

  ‘There’s a good mid-week match on. United v Bayern. Want to watch? It’s about to kick off.’

  He headed to the beer fridge and brought back two bottles. He cracked one open and took a swig. The other one he noticeably left by the second armchair in front of the fire rather than bringing it over to Larry. He slumped in his chair, took another swig and made a loud ‘Aah’ sound. He actually smacked his lips as he plonked his feet up on the range.

  ‘Aye, I’ll keep my eye on the match,’ said Larry, ignoring the bottle waiting for him across the room. ‘But I thought I’d see if Sam here wanted to play cards first.’

  Sam’s head was low over the new map he was drawing.

  ‘Do you fancy playing cards, Sam?’ asked Larry, shuffling a pack he’d brought out of his pocket. ‘Do you play?’

  ‘We tried to play Snap once,’ I said, ‘but nothing else.’ Sam carried on drawing – concentrating on getting the wiggles in the lane in all the right places. ‘That wasn’t so good, really.’

  I shook my head at Larry. I hadn’t thought about the Snap Episode for a while. Sam hadn’t grasped the point of the game and when I yelled ‘Snap!’ and slapped my hand on the pile of cards he’d been stunned for a second before clapping his hands over his ears, slithering to the ground and producing a high-pitched shriek that I thought would never end. He was about five or six at the time. He hadn’t shut up until I’d said we could throw the cards on the fire then he’d watched them curl and blacken and burn as he sat there whimpering.

  Sam’s head came up and he gazed at us as if he’d been dragged from under the sea.

  ‘Larry says do you want to play cards,’ I said, intonating carefully as though he was deaf.

  ‘I can teach you to play Cheat. Have you played Cheat?’ Larry was still shuffling.

  ‘What is Cheat?’ asked Sam.

  ‘Well, it’s a good laugh,’ said Larry.

  ‘I do not want to play Cheat,’ said Sam.

  ‘Hang on, I haven’t told you what it is yet,’ Larry shared the cards out between me, him and Sam. ‘You need at least three people.’

  ‘I do not want to play Cheat,’ he said again.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Larry straightening his cards. ‘Give it a chance.’

  It was getting harder to hold Sam’s attention because the noise from the football was getting louder and louder and we were having to raise our voices over the roar of the crowd. I could see Duncan pressing the remote.

  ‘Okay, so the objective is to get rid of all your cards,’ shouted Larry. He glanced over at Duncan, who was slapping the chair arm and shouting: ‘For God’s sake, pass it!’ but he said nothing.

  Sam studied Larry, then repeated: ‘The objective is to get rid of all your cards?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Larry. ‘First person to put down all their cards wins. But you lie and cheat as you put them down.’

  ‘You lie and cheat, and then you win because you have nothing?’ stated Sam.

  ‘Yes,’ said Larry. ‘That’s about it.’

  ‘I do not want to play Cheat,’ said Sam.

  ‘You need a good poker face to play it,’ said Larry. ‘That means you mustn’t let your face show what you’re really up to. You’ve got to be a good liar.’

  Sam felt his face as if he was checking whether he’d got his big glasses on or not. Then he slid his pens and ruler into his pencil case, placed his pencil case on top of the map, pushed the pile of cards back to Larry and said: ‘I do not want to play Cheat.’

  ‘Christ!’ shouted Duncan over the telly. ‘The kid doesn’t want to play Cheat. Get the message.’ He turned the telly up even more. ‘This is a good match you’re missing.’

  Sam put his hands over his ears, wriggled off his chair and went scurrying upstairs.

  I rolled my eyes to show Larry I knew Duncan was being annoying. ‘Well, it looks like football’s won,’ I mouthed.

  Larry gave me a wink so brief it was hardly there. ‘So let’s watch this match then,’ he said, striding over to the armchair. ‘You joining us, Alice?’

  Duncan scowled.

  ‘Nah, I’m a bit tired.’ Then, without thinking, I added ‘What with everything,’ and I saw Larry smile.

  ‘Yes, you’ve put your all into it today,’ he said. ‘You were good.’

  He wasn’t talking about the hay-making.

  ‘Well I think it’s an early night for me.’ I grabbed my book off the table.

  Duncan looked pleased. ‘Night, Love,’ he said, his eyes not leaving the screen.

  ‘Night, Alice,’ said Larry. ‘Sweet dreams. And thanks . . .’ he hesitated, ‘for my tea.’ And I saw another of his barely-there winks.

  I went upstairs and straightened the quilt cover before sitting on it and messing it up again. Then I went in the bathroom and stared at the sodden carpet and the mass of wet footprints that looked as though half a dozen people had had a bath in there. Two wet towels were chucked on the floor. I put one in the wash and draped the other over the bath.

  We mustn’t get complacent.

  The bed rocked as Duncan got up next morning to milk. I kept my eyes shut and lay still, concentrating on breathing slowly. I’d been awake for ages listening to the wind blowing round the house and imagining how much louder it must sound in Larry’s caravan and how cosy it would be to be in there with him.

  Duncan took his clothes from the chair and crept to the bathroom, not quite shutting the bedroom door so as not to wake me. I snuggled down a bit further.

  When I could hear Duncan downstairs I stuck my hand out of the bedcovers and finger-tipped around the carpet to find my mobile. I wanted to hear Larry’s voice. I pressed his number.

  ‘The number you are calling is not available. Please try again later.’

  I pressed redial.

  ‘The number you are calling is not available. Please try again later.’

  I let the phone drop onto the quilt.

  Later when he
came in for breakfast Duncan said:

  ‘We were lucky to get that haymaking done. Forecast’s bad today – wind’s already up.’

  Through the kitchen window I could see leaves skidding across the yard, making Bess bark and snap.

  Where’s Larry?’ I said. ‘What’s he been doing this morning?’

  ‘Nothing. Haven’t seen him.’ Duncan laughed. ‘Recovering, probably, after yesterday. It’s a good job I got him to check the anchoring on the polytunnel the other day. It’s going to be bad.’

  I looked back at the scudding leaves and hoped Larry was right when he said there had been no need to refasten the polytunnel.

  Sam slid into the room and sat down beside his map and started organising his Weetabix.

  I plopped three teabags in the pot.

  Something was wrong.

  ‘I’m going to get Larry,’ I said, striding off before Duncan could stop me.

  ‘Christ! He’ll find his own way in for breakfast,’ he shouted after me.

  I strode through the washroom and had my hand on the back door handle when I stopped at the sight of the polytunnel. The plastic sheeting door had come unfastened and was flapping wildly and the wind was getting right inside the tunnel and blowing it up as though it was going to burst. I held my breath. Then a section of the covering broke loose from its anchoring and flapped straight in the air. The structure had the look of a ticking time bomb with a very short fuse.

  ‘Duncan!’ I yelled. ‘The tunnel!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Come here!’

  I opened the door and a gust of wind crashed it back. I left it – the tunnel was about to take off. I charged outside. As I reached it the wind dislodged the next section of covering and it too shot in the air with a deafening racket.

  ‘Christ’s sake! I heard Duncan shout. ‘Grab the fucking thing.’