by Louise James
I hope to get away Friday for a week. Why?”
“I was wondering; do you like picnics?”
Olwen laughed. “When the weather is good I do.”
“What would you say to a picnic next weekend with luck the weather will be fine.” He held his breath. Olwen thought for a moment.
“I don’t see why not. Where are you planning to go?”
“I don’t know the area, you tell me.”
“Tell you what you arrange the picnic and I will take you to a good whinberry patch. Accept the challenge?”
“I would if I knew what a whinberry patch was.” Greg laughed.
“I will show you and the loser buys the beers when we get back.” She climbed in the jeep winding down the window. “Thank you for the drink and for listening. Next time we talk about you instead.”
Greg leant on the door; the urge to kiss her inviting mouth inches from his own was almost too much. She started the engine and with a little wave she was gone. As he watched the lights disappear around a bend, he was filled with elation. She had accepted his invitation and told him confidential things about herself. How he wished he could get his hands on that Irish bloke. He only hoped it hadn’t put her off being alone with a man. She seemed alright about it so now all he had to do was pray for fine weather and prepare a picnic she would remember. He was very tired as he drove home but slept a deep refreshing sleep until towards dawn he dreamt that he asked Olwen out but the Captain turned up instead.
Chapter 20
The next day Greg felt he was a prize idiot. Not only was he becoming involved when he shouldn’t but he was not even thinking straight, so woolly headed he hadn’t fixed a day for this picnic neither had he got Olwen’s phone number or her address, he hadn’t asked what she liked or disliked to eat and hadn’t taken into account he most probably not be able to walk anywhere she suggested neither had he asked for the phone number of the builders. He found the builders by enquiring in the village shop and was directed to a house with a JCB in the back garden. There was no one at home except a ginger and white cat in the garden who loudly enquired his business but couldn’t supply answers. Greg scribbled a note and dropping it through the letterbox. He was rewarded the following evening by a cheerful voice on the phone.
“Good evening, Mr Morgan. Len Graham here I found your note and see you’re in need of a builder. How can we help?’
“Hi yes thanks for calling. You may have heard that I bought Graig- y-Dorth and you probably know about the roof.”
“Everyone has heard about the roof, it caused quite a laugh down the pub a few years back. How do you sleep when it rains?’
‘Actually, part of the roof is felted and there is an attic over the main cottage. It’s not too bad now but winter isn’t here yet.’
“No, Len laughed “Obviously the sooner it’s done the better. Do you want us to take a look? We are up to our eyes at the moment; can’t do anything for at least two months.’
“That’s fine, I can’t either. I have a flat in Hull that is on the market but I would like an estimate and your views on an extension.’
“Okay, Sunday at ten if that suits?’
“Fine, see you then.’ Greg felt better things felt more progressive. Then a thought struck him, suppose Sunday was the only day that Olwen could come and another thought suppose this weekend was a bad time for him what if he had pain and couldn’t walk. He felt a right idiot, it wasn’t something you could blurt out to a girl you had just met ‘sorry about this but I will have to sit down every few yards and I can only walk zig-zag up a slope or I might drop dead’. He wished he had never asked her or started anything in the first place. He could feel the now familiar depression coming on.
Pulling himself together Rocky following closely he spent an hour on the Land rover carefully taking out the broken windscreen ready for the day when he could afford a new one. The money situation was beginning to bug him he had noticed from his bank statements he didn’t have a lot left. Where did it all go? Admittedly he had have to have the phone put in, he couldn’t rely on his mobile the signal here was not good, then there had been the vet’s bill, paint for the house and the bits and pieces to make it liveable, petrol, food it all adding to a frightening figure. Greg realised that he had never actually been short of money and the sudden cutting back on his lifestyle was going to be hard. Soon the phone bill would be in and the council tax, supposing next winter was a bad one, he had to get in stores for himself and Rocky (if he still had him no one had come forward as yet) Greg paused in his work. He knew his parents would want to help but they couldn’t afford to subsidise him even for a short time. He had to prove his independence and find some sort of income because once it came to asking for help it would be time to sell up and go home; at least the farm wouldn’t then be a drain on his parents. He couldn’t bear his thoughts; Grai-y-dorth was home. He should be looking for some kind of job. He would go to the job centre tomorrow. He could surely get a desk job of some kind but then how would he get to any kind of job; he was supposed to stop driving he couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t a reality, supposing he collapsed and killed someone else as well as himself. He had been ignoring the situation but it couldn’t be ignored any longer. As if in response a dull ache spread heavily over his chest crept to his shoulders and down his arms, quickly slipping one of the capsules he carried into his mouth he lay back in the seat until it passed. That he thought savagely answered that question. If there was only something he could do from home.
The pain eventually subsiding he sat a long time thinking. It was a big mistake to come here, he should have stayed in his flat and kept his money, it would have kept him, and there were people there to help. It was mistake to be going out with Olwen, he could already feel a powerful attraction; he had to be careful, he dare not become involved. It would hurt too much to break another relationship, supposing she felt the same, she would be facing heartache of the worst kind especially after what she had already been through. He must tell her the truth and never see her again.
He was interrupted in his thoughts by Rocky’s angry barking. He struggled to his feet still feeling groggy but managed to walk to the gate where an agitated Rocky was keeping a man outside it. Usually a friendly dog, every time the man put his hand on the latch, Rocky threw himself against the gate snarling and snapping his teeth. Greg called him off.
“Good afternoon. Can I help you?’
The man opened the gate and came through. Greg grabbed Rocky’s collar as the dog leapt forward. He was a short man of about fifty years of age wearing a ragged raincoat tied around his waist with string and wellington boots thick with ripe smelling dung. His dirty cap was pulled well down only allowing a few strands of greasy black hair to escape on to his collar. He was unshaven, a week’s growth of stubble crept like grey fungi over his cheeks and chin. His eyes were of indeterminate colour, shifty, never still with an unwholesome flickering movement. His voice when he spoke was harsh when Rocky heard it he snarled.
‘Nice day.’ His eyes slid on to Greg and away around the yard.
“Not bad. How can I help you?’ Greg kept a firm hold on the quivering growling dog. The eyes flickered onto the dog and away over the mountain; Greg felt his skin crawl.
“I believe you’ve got my dog there.” He went missing a couple of months back.” Greg swallowed and his grip on Rocky tightened.
“How come if he’s yours why didn’t he come back?’
“Well!” The drawing voice hesitated. “He’s a bit queer like, a stone fell on him off the wall back last winter and it’s as if he’s lost his memory goes off for weeks, can’t seem to find his way back but this is the longest yet but then you’ve been feeding him ain’t yer?’
“Can you prove that he is yours?’ Greg was shaking with anger. There was no way Rocky was going with this shifty eyed tramp. “Where do you live?” he asked.”
T
he man waved his stick, pointing over the fields. “Penry Farm. It’s down the mountain road about two miles from the village.’
“How are you going to prove it?” Greg asked again.
“I don’t ave to, e’s mine right enough, ent yer Mick? I bought more sheep at market Tuesday and I need two dogs. I only got Jack at ’ome now and e’s getting past it so I need Mick back.” Greg didn’t believe a word of it but without prove there was no way he could stop him taking the dog except one- he released Rocky. ‘Call him’ He commanded.
“Come on Mick, remember me?” Greg felt sick but Rocky taking matters into his own paws leapt forward. As the man turned to open the gate the dog sank his teeth into his leg. Greg rushed to grab Rocky’s collar hauling him gobbling and choking off his victim who with a stream of curses sank to the ground in pain.
“Bloody dog, I’ll get ’im for this and yer, yer bloody interfering townie, taking our farms and animals. Why don’t yer get from yer? The dog’s mad, needs to be put down. Next time I seed ’im I’ll shoot the bloody swine.”
“No you won’t.” Greg’s eyes were steel flints. “This is not your dog and never has been. You saw him on the mountain and wanted him, you tried to trap him. If I could prove it was you setting those traps I’d hang you with them. Get off my property and don’t ever come back. I’ll mention your visit to Jeff Arnott. He will be very interested. Funny how he had never seen the dog before, if he belonged to you. Why hadn’t you reported him missing? You just thought you would get yourself a working dog to save buying one. When the plan didn’t work you came lying your way in here. You didn’t bargain on the dog not liking or trusting you. He would have never worked for you. Of course if you are badly injured—(the man was hobbling away to a battered Land rover at the end of the drive)– I’ll run you to the vet that sewed up the dog’s neck. He would enjoy treating you, soon make you better, Bastard.’
The man climbed with great difficulty into his vehicle, after two attempts to start it he drove off.
“Well Rocky old son?” Greg bent down to caress the quivering dog. “That got rid of him whoever he was. “Don’t look so sheepish I wouldn’t scold you for biting him; teach him a lesson. Let’s go and give Jeff a ring.’
Jeff was brief and to the point. “That old scoundrel never owned that dog. He has been barred from keeping dogs for five years. Cruel as hell, name of Luke Jeffries. Nasty cruel and small minded; watch yourself he could be dangerous given half a chance. Was on an assault charge; he attacked the RSPCA man. He may be a bit wary as you are a stranger around here but watch your back and watch your dog. He would shoot him if he sees him about alone. I’ll call by and have a word but we can’t prove anything so be careful what you say to neighbours. I’ll put the frighteners on him take a look around his sheds and stock. There’s sure to be something I can have him for. Just keep an eye for a while. Thanks for telling me.”
“Enemy no one’ thought Greg putting down the phone. ‘Bound to get one I suppose but I wish that Rocky wasn’t involved’.
Olwen rang the following Thusday. “Would the picnic still be on?” she enquired.
“Oh! Yes.” Said Greg, all his good intentions vanished like smoke.
“Saturday would be a good day for me.” She said, “Could you pick me up about eleven?’
“Yes Ma’m.” He grinned down the phone.
“That’s if it’s convenient. Sir” she picked up the ball.
“Fine.” said Greg. “See you then and pray for fine weather.”
“Here we go boy.” He shouted to Rocky. “Now we have to put together the perfect picnic and we have to face the witch again.” He was to face the witch before that. She was at his gate the following morning.
Chapter 21
Rocky barked and Greg came out to see the dog on his hind legs being petted while Samuel Peeps nosed at him. “Hello” Greg was mindful of their last encounter. “Are you coming to see me?’
“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” She let herself in through the gate. For a wild moment Greg thought she had come because he was taking Olwen out but her next words took him by surprise. “I hear you have gained a dog and made an enemy.”
“It seems I have. He’s a nasty piece of work that man.”
“He is and worse, he’s dangerous; he does silly tricks to amuse himself, they do a lot of harm. He carries a gun too, have often met him with one. He does have a licence unfortunately he hasn’t done anything yet to get himself banned from holding one. Samuel Peeps doesn’t like him, keeps away growling hackles up. I know your dog bit him yesterday.” “How did you hear about that?” Greg interrupted.
“Well if you must know he came to me for some herbs to heal his leg. I expect you have heard I’m the local witch or White witch as they used to call any one dabbling in medicines” Was there the ghost of a smile in those strange light eyes? “I refused to treat him, not because I couldn’t or wouldn’t because every living thing has a right to be treated or cured at some time but he needed a tetanus injection and stitches, if I did it and something went wrong he would be spiteful enough to make me or mine pay for it. Also he told me how he came by it and I knew you must have had a good reason not to have driven him to casualty yourself. I really don’t like handling a man as evil as him so I rang young Glen from the farm to take him to the hospital and kept my conscience clear. I thought I should warn you if he can pay you out he will. Don’t let your dog anywhere he can get at him. He really will kill him and say he was sheep worrying or some such tale.’
‘Thanks for the tip. I really do appreciate it.’
‘Just remember it.’ Bronwyn turned to leave. ‘By the way, in passing I’ve six hens and a cockerel would do you just fine, you should be eating free range eggs not ones you don’t know where they’re from. I’ll send them up with Olwen. I have a crate for them.’
“Really it’s very kind of you but no thank you. I don’t think I need chickens– Greg began.
“Nonsense there’s plenty of room for them. I’ll not charge you seeing you are a newcomer. Call it a welcome gift. Need a bit of netting on the garden wall or you’ll have no cabbage come autumn.’ She was through the gate before he could reply, where she was joined by Samuel Peeps who sat waiting for her rather than trespass on Rocky’s territory. As she started down the road she suddenly turned around.
‘By the way, next time you pass, keep your hand off that horn. Don’t you know that it’s not allowed after seven o’clock?’ She was gone before Greg could think of a reply.
Greg stood in the yard almost incapable of speech. He looked at Rocky whose tail was beating the ground as he waited for him to say something.
‘Well I’ll be damned.’ Greg finally spoke. ‘Did you ever see the like, Rocky?’ The tail beat a steady tattoo. ‘First she very kindly warns me about old Luke, then she forces me to have chickens that I don’t want, then I get a telling off for using the horn that I had a telling off for not using before. A self-confessed witch too. Remember that, Rocky. Yes, she had you fawning too, don’t deny it while her own dog sat and waited for her. I think we are being manipulated whether we like it or not.’
That evening Greg drove around the mountain road to see if he could spot where Luke Jeffries lived. He drove slowly following the road which ran along the foot of the mountain. He passed two derelict cottages set back in the woodland also a deserted chapel. The first farm that he passed belonged according to Jeff Arnott to Cliff Edwards known to be a good neighbour always willing to lend a hand. Some of his hedges formed the boundary to Graig-y-dorth and were in excellent condition. Greg noticed that his cattle looked well and Jeff had told him that Cliff’s sheep ran the hill. Greg meant to call one day and introduce himself; he had seen the man in the distance and had learned from Bronwyn that the Glen she talked about was one of his sons. The next house belonged to an artist who lived in London where he exhibited his paintings. He was usually; when on
vacation at the cottage to be found in The Copper Beech where Greg later met him. He spotted a farm down in the fields where Jeff had told him a family lived with four children; Greg had not seen anything of them.
A mile or so farther he came to a drive leading across a field where a tumble down farm house sat in a circle of tall pine trees which added to its air of dilapidation and depression. It looked so rundown it appeared empty but for torn curtains at the window and a towel and a pair of trousers hanging on a line slung between two trees. The battered Land Rover standing on the yard Greg recognised immediately as Luke’s. A cattle grid led across a field in which several steers stood in mud up to their hocks, sheep wandered at random over several fields in which large areas of docks and ferns were left untreated. In another field a tractor stood where someone had started to cut grass but left it. Greg slowed down as much as he dared without attracting attention. Taking in the whole sorry state, his lip curled seeing as he drove fields with stones fallen from walls and several barns standing empty and dilapidated. This then was the home of an idle man always ripe for mischief, never minding his own business, trying to get something for nothing not caring how he got it. Greg put his foot down and drove on he must keep Rocky with him never leaving him home on his own. He was half inclined to return now to collect him but time was getting on so he would hurry to get his shopping first. Uneasy all the time he was in town he was relieved to see the dog safe on his return.
‘I won’t risk it again Boy. You come to town with me because I would rather he broke into the house than he injured you.’ Rocky barked an agreement and ate his supper with gusto.
Saturday dawned sunny, a typical July day. There was no wind and it was hot from early morning until by eleven almost too hot. Greg put the cool box and Rocky in the pickup. Olwen was going to have to share her seat with the dog as there was no way Greg was going to leave him and he didn’t trust Rocky to ride in the back. He picked up his lead in case they were going near sheep. He was still worried about himself; he only hoped she wasn’t taking them up a mountain. When he arrived at the cottage there was no sign of anyone although her jeep stood on the yard. Greg was just deciding whether he had enough courage to knock on the door when it opened and Olwen came out carrying a basket. She wore jeans and a blue open necked shirt. Greg opened the truck door for her.