by Louise James
‘I hope you don’t mind sharing with Rocky’
‘Of course not, Gran told me. It’s wise to bring him with you. Luke is such a dreadful man.’
‘I went past his place yesterday. You certainly wouldn’t call it home would you?’
‘No indeed not.’ agreed Olwen. ‘Granny and I walk past there sometimes and she told him off about the state of his cattle once a couple of years back. I was nervous for her after that and dreading she might upset him one day but I think he is more scared of her and her reputation than she is of him. She can be very formidable sometimes; that she can.’
‘I know.’ Greg replied. ‘What’s with the chickens?’
‘The what?’ she looked puzzled. He told her of Bronwyn’s visit.
She laughed. “Gran rears them under the hen and when they are grown she sells the cockerels at market and gives little sets of hens to anyone she thinks needs eggs. Actually you are the honoured one. She never gives to newcomers and only to deserving cases.’
‘Great. I don’t know that I want them.’
‘Oh you will’ It could have been her grandmother speaking. ‘Think of the food value, they don’t cost much to keep. You can always sell the eggs that you don’t use.’
‘Hey! Where are we going?’ He suddenly realised that they were approaching the main road.
‘Abergavenny; drive right through the town. We are going Whinberry picking.’
‘Is that what the basket is for? Are we going to find that many?’
‘Wait and see.’ Greg smiled at her, his strong hands steady on the wheel. She sat with an arm around Rocky, completely at ease. Her ponytail cascading red-gold down her back, her eyes smoky grey, alight with fun, he noticed tiny gold lights glowing in their depths as her eyes met Greg’s; his heart jolted (this wasn’t good for him but it was nice.) Rocky looked ahead giving each of his subjects a licked ear now and then.
As they approached the Sugarloaf Mountain, Greg put his worries out of his mind giving himself up to the pleasures of the day. The mountain did indeed resemble a loaf of bread or sugar. It swept majestically and smoothly into a hazy blue sky as they drove onto its lower slopes. They parked and with Rocky jumping around them began a gentle walk in which the gradient increased so slowly that it required little effort. Much of the lower slopes were flat with acres of wild thyme filling the air with perfume. Heather spread for miles and would be a wonderful sight come autumn. Larks sent droplets of song while giant bumble bees hummed busily in tiny white flowers. The day was still hot and clear although the surrounding hills were a haze of blue.
‘This is beautiful.” Greg took deep breathes of perfumed air while giving silent thanks that he was not called upon to show weakness. The actual summit was a good way off and he fervently prayed that Olwen had no intention of going that far. She suddenly began racing Rocky across wide sheep tracks, startling rabbits sending the dog wild with excitement. At all times an obedient dog he was nevertheless sorely tempted not to come back when called. The grass flowed soft and green in a natural lawn beneath their feet. Sheep and rabbit droppings showed what a busy thoroughfare this was when no humans were around. There were no sheep to be seen at present and only a couple of people in the distance so Rocky could run to his heart’s content but he didn’t go far too excited by the many rabbit holes he tried to get down. They chattered about non consequential things as they strolled. After a while Olwen turned across a track looking carefully each side of the path. Suddenly she stopped and showed Greg the small black berries hidden on the stems of a tough little shrub which grew in profusion through the heather and wild thyme.
‘This will do nicely.’ Olwen spread the rug while Greg reached in the cool box for cold drinks and a bottle of water for Rocky. They sat a moment enjoying the shade of a small rowan tree. ‘Don’t you be getting too comfortable.’ laughed Olwen. “Start picking.” She knelt putting the basket between them. For a moment Greg couldn’t see any berries then his eyes began to find them amongst their grey-green leaves, then he could see there was a good harvest but so difficult to pick he didn’t think he would make much impression on the crop. Olwen already had both hands deep in the bushes and his eyes preferred to linger on the lovely picture she made. The ponytail had already loosened, tendrils escaping about her face and neck. She looked up and catching his eyes upon her, blushed deepening the sun kissed rose of her cheeks.
“Pick” she ordered. “Yes Mam” They picked in silence for a while. Rocky dashing backwards and forwards between two rabbit holes bouncing back every now and then to lick faces, stamp all over the berries and do his best to upset the basket. After being shouted at a few times he flung himself on the rug and went to sleep. The basket didn’t seem very full when Greg looked at his watch. It was one- thirty. He looked around for Olwen she had taken a plastic bag and worked her way off a little, picking busily.
‘Hey! Busy Bee, Lunchtime.’ he called. She rose at once, coming back to empty her bag in the basket. ‘It’s too warm and I’m thirsty.’
‘I’ve just the thing for you then.’ He opened the cool box producing two paper cups and two cartons of apple juice sharp and cold.
“Lovely, Do we have one each?”
“We sure do.” He brought out paper plates, napkins then boxes of sliced chicken, soft white buttered rolls, small garlic cheeses, a pot of prawn salad, crisps and two slices of watermelon.
“Heavenly; I give you full marks for the picnic.” She grabbed a roll and a cheese. “This is sheer heaven.”
They sat under the little rowan tree which dappled patterns over them while a slight breeze blew from the mountain. It was so hot Greg took his shirt off. His hard muscular body tanned tapering to a slim waist.
“Two can play at that game.” Olwen promptly removed hers to Greg’s delight. She wore a white bikini top her creamy skin lightly freckled. He swallowed; she was deliciously tempting and appeared completely oblivious to the effect she had on him They ate hungrily, Rocky demanding bits until Greg poured him a dish of water unwrapped a meaty bone then led him off a little way to gnaw in peace.
“You thought of everything didn’t you?” What’s in the bag?”
“Desert” He pulled out peaches. a bunch of huge black grapes then an ice cold bottle of wine from the cool box.
“I can’t bear it.” Olwen hid her face in her hands. “I shall be asleep.”
“It’s very low alcohol.” Greg poured it into the paper cups. The sun filtered through the leaves making pattern play on their bodies. Greg rolled onto his back and within minutes was fast asleep. Olwen propped herself on her elbow watching him, noticing the fine dark hairs on his arms, his strong chest muscles moving with each breath beneath his bronzed skin. Her eyes slowly travelled upwards. He was beautiful, his mouth relaxed like a young boys. She found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss those firm lips now slightly apart his breathing even and steady. She liked the straight nose and wide set eyes closed now with long fringed lashes that any girl would envy. The eyes she knew were an unusual green. She had an irresistible urge ro sweep back the tangle of dark curls from around his ears while he slept. He attracted her strongly attracted her she had been thinking about him all week, she was finding the long lines of his body sensual, his green eyes held a mystery that she was longing to solve. She sensed there was more to this man that she wanted to know about, the tiny lines around his eyes and about the cleft in his chin. This man was mature and held secrets in his heart and she found she quite badly wanted to share them. Above all she felt completely safe in his company. She rested her head on her arms watching him until her eyes closed and she too slept.
Something tickling her nose woke her. She opened her eyes to see a pair of laughing green ones inches from her own. A fine strand of heather was lightly brushing her cheeks. She did not move. His eyes locked into hers. He leant over her. She slightly lifted her head; his lips met hers. Fire flick
ed through them both. The kiss was long and deep yet gentle with first kiss sweetness. Lightning flickered through nerves.
A cold wet nose was thrust rudely between them followed by a rough hairy head. They moved apart. Greg rose pulling her up with him. He kissed her again, leaning her back against the little tree. The second kiss was deeper searching, asking- answering, responding. They both felt passion flair between them his hands following the curve of her body then losing themselves in the wildness of her hair. She locked hands behind his head, drowning, giving. Rocky barking and the sound of voices brought them apart. Greg’s eyes dark with desire, Olwen’s huge pleading-
A man was moving across the berry patch followed by two women and a child running. Greg grabbed Rocky and slipped on his lead, picking up his shirt and Olwen’s silently handing it to her. The magic broken he turned to pack up the picnic replacing everything in the cool box while Olwen grabbed the basket and was once again picking. The family moved towards them calling a greeting. Rocky growled but with a wagging tail. Olwen straightened up waved to the group and came back to Greg.
“Shall we call it a day then? The basket is half full and that’s very good for a first pick” her smile was strained. Greg mentally shook himself, forcing a smile.
“Great! Yes let’s get back now.” Relenting he caught her berry stained hand and kissed the palm. “Come on Sweetheart, you win the challenge, it’s a beautiful berry patch.” She laughed and relaxed.
‘That was a gorgeous picnic, the best I ever had. Let’s call it a draw.’
“Okay.” Greg slung the rug over his shoulder picking up the cool box. ‘’Can you manage the basket?’
‘I can.’
He would have liked to put an arm around her but with Rocky in one hand and the box in the other it was impossible; he had hoped to release the dog again but there were suddenly more people on the path now with children and dogs. They found themselves at the pickup with little said except the undesirability of bringing dogs on picnics and the hope to have another later in the summer. As they drove back with Rocky again between them, the strain was almost unbearable. So much needed to be said but neither could say the words which would release the tension.
Greg stopped at the witch’s gate. “Are you coming in?” Olwen asked.
“No I had better get back. I have several things to do.” He came around the vehicle to take her basket. Concealed from the house as she slid out, he trapped her against the pickup.
“I’m sorry, Olwen.”
“Don’t.” She laid a finger against his lips, in an instant she was in his arms, his mouth on hers. “Oh! Greg” he stopped her with another kiss.
‘Come back to the farm with me, I want you to.’
“I can’t now, Granny will have heard the pickup and wonder what’s wrong. I have promised to take her to her friends tonight but I will come before I go back to Worcester.’
“When Olwen? When do you go?”
“Tomorrow night. I will come tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be making you a pie and I have to bring the chickens.” She slipped from his arms. “Thank you for a lovely day.” She turned to the house, waving from the door.
Greg barely remembered driving home the truck was on the yard Rocky out and running around before he came to his senses.
‘I am in love, really in love and God help me for now I am in real trouble because I can’t have her. She will have to told and quick.’ But the exultation wouldn’t leave him. Depression would not return oh but it would but not now. Love was here. Magic was here. He was much too high to come down. It was enough to be in love and to believe that most probably she was too.
Chapter 22
It was late the following morning when Greg awoke. After tossing and turning most of the night reliving each kiss and each word, cursing himself over and over for being such a fool as to allow it to happen, then hugging himself for the very joy that it had. He had fallen into a troubled sleep at dawn, realisation hitting him again as he woke. He was wondering if she was thinking about him in the same way when his watch alarm warned him it was ten o’clock and the builders were due any minute. He dressed rushing down to put the kettle on and let Rocky out. Sudden dizziness warned him against rushing. It was well after ten before Rocky’s bark announced the arrival of a pickup. As Greg opened the door two lads unmistakably brothers, smiled a greeting.
“Hi” Greg welcomed them in. “You just smelt the tea brewing.”
“Builders always do.” The taller of the two held out a hand. “I’m Len Bateman, this is my brother Dean.” They shook hands.
“Let’s take a look around then we can have that tea and a chat.”
“Greg showed them inside. It amused the lads immensely that anyone would put a tin roof on a dwelling house. They speculated as to what had happened to the original stone tiles. They could throw no light on the subject but had heard talk at the pub when it happened, but apparently no one in the village had noticed the stone going or galvanise going on until it was an accomplished fact.
As they sat down to their tea, Greg knew he was going to get on with them. Len was tall with bright hazel eyes and a ready smile, broad muscular arms and chest. Greg wasn’t surprised to learn he spent his spare time in the gym. Dean, a few inches shorter with fair curly hair and large blue-grey eyes wore a moustache, a more slender build than his brother although he too had the muscular arms and hands of a stone mason which Greg learned was his speciality. He was also married with two young children. Both their attitudes were friendly and helpful, Greg felt at ease. He could see that they knew their job and if their prices were right once he sold his flat he knew he would like these men to handle his home. He explained his position.
“That’s fine.” said Dean. “No problem. We are pretty busy at the moment. We’ll try to get some of it done so by the time you are ready we should be as well. We should be able to get the roof done before the autumn anyway. Any offers on your flat? A big flat in that location shouldn’t take too long to sell.”
“I haven’t heard a word but two agents have it. I’ll give them a ring in the morning.” They all agreed that the roof was top priority. Len was of the opinion that grants were available owing to the age of the property and the unsuitability of the galvanised as a roof on a house. He offered to look into it for Greg as he knew some people who would know.
“I’m grateful to you and I like the way you are talking. Seriously we will go ahead as soon as I can but it may take a little time I’m afraid.” He sighed, he would have liked for them to start straight away. He felt that time was running away from him. Dean had wandered off and was looking at the old range.
“I like these.” he said. “But they are dirty and hard work. How would you like a Rayburn in the kitchen for the hot water, to run upstairs radiators then we could convert this into an original stone fireplace with basket and dogs, lovely for a log fire in the winter evenings?”
“I never gave it a thought.” Greg admitted. “Could you do that?”
“Of course, no problem is our motto. Chimney may give a bit of a problem though depends where it runs and what condition it’s in.” He disappeared upstairs.
“He’s into fireplaces at the moment.” laughed Len. “He is right though make a lot of difference to this room. The winters up here are something else. A Rayburn and a log fire are a must. We haven’t had a bad one for a year or two and we are about due.” They walked outside.
“These Subaru’s are just the job around here aren’t they?” Greg remarked.
“We couldn’t be without this one.” Len was just about to climb in when Dean came out wiping a sooty hand.
“Not much that we can’t fix.” He looked up at the chimney.
“Before you go come and see what I found.” Greg led the way to the shed.” Take a look at that.’
“My God it’s a 1948 model.” The lads spoke almost in unison. “Wow! That’s
the job for here.” Dean walked carefully around the Land Rover. “It needs a lot doing though. Does it go?”
“We can turn it over.” Greg told them how he and Ray had been working on it.
“Great! We’ll keep an eye down the village for you when you get it going. It’s worth a bit.”
“The mice knew a good thing when they saw it, pity.”
“More damage from them than years of disuse.” Greg agreed.
“Of course you’ll keep it won’t you?” Dean asked. “I know they are worth a lot but think of actually using one again especially up here.”
“I am, I am.” laughed Greg. “Hang on I hear the phone.” He tried not to run thinking it might be Olwen. He tried to steady his heart rate. To his surprise it was Dave, Ray’s partner.
“Hello Greg. Ray’s just asked me to phone you, he’s on his way down for a couple of days.” Dave sounded terse as if he couldn’t spare the time to speak. Greg wondered what was wrong. “He should be with you about five. He’s got a loom for the land Rover. Hope things go well. Bye.”
‘What’s the matter with him?’ Greg wondered. ‘Hope Ray isn’t taking too much time off.’ Len put his head around the door. “We are off now. Will let you have an estimate for the roof and a rough plan of the other work that you can mull over at your leisure. We do an estimate for that when you are ready and know what you want.’
“Fine thanks a lot. As I said I will let you know when the finances are right and maybe we’ll have some luck with the grants as you suggested. You never know. See you now.’ They waved and were gone.
Greg wearily made himself something to eat then found that he couldn’t eat it. Twice he picked up his mobile and put it down again. ‘She said she would come’ Oh! God how he wanted to see her but he had let the unthinkable happen. What should he say or do? He shrank from telling her the truth. Now he had the problem of Ray as well, not that he wouldn’t be delighted to see him but he couldn’t talk about important issues with them both here and his feelings for Olwen getting in the way. It was two o’clock before he heard the jeep turn in the gate. He had been on hooks all day.