“Nain, m’n,” he’d replied, pretending to be indignant, “I’m just holding the little thing; don’t you worry about me.”
Yet when Tansy returned, now in a pair of his boxer shorts and a different T-shirt and dressing gown, he told her to get herself comfortable and take her time before he reluctantly handed Gwennie over. He’d had many cuddles from many women – and many women had wanted more cuddles that he’d felt willing to give – but none yet had been so precious as that from Gwennie Shackles as her little fingers gripped his one large one: she’d gotten right under his skin and she was only two hours old.
Taid had found a small wooden crate that their fruit and vegetables had been delivered in earlier that week and he’d lined it with a blanket and then a clean sheet. Tansy fed Gwennie again, still struggling to find a comfortable position and then when Gwennie, swaddled in a sheet, dropped off her breast, milk-drunk, she was laid carefully into the little box and covered by another sheet and a blanket. The box was laid beside Tansy on the double mattress now dragged back in front of the Rayburn and Tansy was finally able to sleep.
Because Johnny no longer had a mattress on his bed, he made a makeshift bed out of the sofa at the far end of the kitchen. “Wake me if you need anything,” he said to Tansy and he really, really meant it. Finally the household fell into a deep slumber as the snow continued to fall outside and the wind continued to howl and the temperature went on dropping.
CHAPTER 23
Mor llon â brithyll – as happy as a trout
The snow had meant that the residents of Anweledig were also trapped in their houses. Louisa had checked with a quick peep out of the window the next morning and, satisfied that there was absolutely no way she’d get to town, she had gleefully left a message on the bank’s answering machine to explain her unfortunate absence and then bounced back into bed. How quickly she forgot her promise to start digging out her car straight away…
David, however, was made of sterner stuff. He was slightly disappointed that their power had been returned during the night; he had rather relished the adventure of having to brave the cold, cook on a camping stove and to prove how much metal he really had in him.
Esther was pottering round the kitchen, clearing away the breakfast dishes when the front door burst open.
“Esther! Esther?”
“Yes, love?” she called, walking out to the hall with a tea towel and a wet cup in her hand.
“Snowed in. Can’t get out – I’ll have to dig my way through. Need to phone work first. Now – where’s the phone?”
“Probably in the lounge…on the stand?”
David looked expectantly, as if she’d probably hidden it, so she walked slowly into the lounge to check. Yes, there it was on the stand. “Here you are,” she said, passing it to him and shuddering from the cold air that was blasting through the open door. “Oo, shut that will you, love, it’s freezing.”
“Esther, I’m trying to ring work. Now, what’s happened to this phone?”
“Well, you can ring from inside as well as from the doorway – and what do you mean? What’s happened to the phone?”
“It’s broken,” he said, handing it back to her with a frown.
“Oh, the battery’s dead; it mustn’t have been on the stand properly.”
“Well, is there another one fully charged, or not?”
Esther now had a cup, a tea towel and a phone in her strong hand as she headed for the kitchen. Good – the other phone was on its stand and fully charged. She put down her belongings and swapped the phones.
“Esther! I do actually need to phone work. I don’t want them to think I’m late for no reason.”
Eventually she passed him the phone. “Well, it is slightly easier for you to fetch these things than me…”
“Yes, but I’ve got my coat on…”
“…and please can you shut that door!”
“Gosh, Esther, you are in a bit of a bad mood this morning: what’s up?”
Esther clenched her teeth and managed to squeak out a, “Nothing,” as she returned to her chores. Was she in a bad mood? She was sure that she was quite happy five minutes before. Perhaps she was getting tetchier these days? David seemed to think she was anyway – perhaps she should see the doctor and get her hormone levels checked. She wiped the cup and put it on the shelf.
“Esther! They said it was OK, but to try and get in as soon as I can,” came the shout from the doorway. “Now, I need the spade. If I can dig the car out of Anweledig, the top road may be a bit clearer. Esther, where did you put the spade?”
“What do you mean? I would think it’s probably in the garage?”
“No, don’t think so. Where in the garage?”
“It’s usually hanging up next to the rakes?” Nothing and nobody moved. “Oh, hang on, I’ll find it.” Esther put her coat on and struggled into her boots. The path to the garage was treacherous for her as her weaker side was the house side and she needed to hold on to steady her balance. David opened the garage door.
“There it is,” she said, pointing to the hook next to the rakes.
“Oh yes, so it is.” David fetched the shovel and set off on his journey to battle with tigers in the snow. “Tell Louisa that if I can get mine out, she can follow – probably in about an hour or so?”
“OK,” said Esther, exhausted through exasperation and effort and she set off back to the house. “Louisa!” she called up the stairs. Silence. “Louisa – Dad says he’ll be able to clear the drive in an hour or so. Perhaps you could help him?” More silence. Esther sighed and started pulling herself up the stairs. She knocked on Louisa’s door.
“Yes?”
“Louisa, Dad says he’ll be…”
“Yes, I heard – an hour. Tell him I’ll be out to help him in a minute; I’m just finishing this.” Louisa pointed at her computer: it looked like she was writing out a comment from her blog onto a piece of paper.
Esther rolled her eyes, shut the door and took a few seconds to rest before setting off back down the stairs. She went to the front door to put her boots on, then stood back up and muttered, “Actually, tell him your bloody self,” and returned to her drying up in the kitchen.
Johnny dragged himself away from the breastfeeding baby to go and have a look at Tansy’s car and fetch their belongings. He wrapped up warmly, stuffed his double-socked feet into his wellies and headed out into the whiteness. The snow had finally stopped falling and the sun was weakly trying to warm things up, but was failing miserably.
He grabbed a spade and headed off down the track, accompanied by three dogs. He could see Tansy’s footprints, blurred by more snow, which she’d made as she walked up the lane the night before. He shuddered with concern as he saw them stumble from side to side and then spotted an area trampled down, presumably as she stopped for a contraction. He felt amazed by what she’d been through and his respect grew. As he walked he began to get warmer. The dogs were rushing about, sniffing from side to side and enjoying being out of their shed. Johnny had always loved the snow and it simply enhanced his feelings of a clean new start to his life.
The electricity was still off and he was in no hurry for it to come back on. Until it did and the roads were clear, Tansy couldn’t realistically go anywhere: she’d have to stay at the farm – with him…
He eventually came out onto the council road and saw what must be her Fiesta stuck in a hedge. A quick inspection showed that it was stuck in a snowdrift, rather than having crashed or dropped into the ditch. He spent a pleasant half hour scraping the snow from around it and clearing a route to their farm track. It felt good to be labouring, although he still felt tired from the lack of sleep, and he was pleased to be able to show Tansy how useful he could be. Johnny finally started the car and with a little skidding and revving, he drove it along the road and parked it on their track out of the way of other vehicles that might come sliding round the corner looking for a nice soft Fiesta to act as their buffer.
Realising that he
’d not get it any further up the track until the snow melted, he loaded himself up with all Tansy’s bags and set off like a pack horse, laden with the stacks of nappies and bags of clutter that a first-time mother has been told she needs.
As he lumbered towards the house and crashed his bags against the door frame, something felt different. Ah, electricity. The radio was on and the fridge in the corner was whirring away, trying to make up for lost time.
“All right, love?” Nain asked as he looked around trying to see Tansy and baby Gwen. “They’re both sleeping.” Johnny followed her eyes and saw them tucked up on the sofa with a blanket thrown over them. “If Tansy can have as much sleep as possible, it’ll do her good,” said Nain. “The phone’s back on now too, so I’ve phoned the hospital and spoken to a midwife and I’ve a few things to check when Tansy wakes. How was the road? Anything been through?”
“No, nothing yet. I think you’d struggle even with a four by four; it’s drifted high in places. Tractor’d be OK.”
“That’s what I thought. Midwife said she’ll hold off ’til later – unless there are any problems and then they’ll have to send a helicopter!”
Johnny felt a little disappointed; he wanted the best for Tansy, but he didn’t want anyone from the outside world interfering. Part of him wanted the snow to go on and on: they’d be fine on their own.
He heard a noise and looked over to see Tansy shifting position trying to get comfortable without waking the baby.
“Hello,” she smiled.
“Hello,” he whispered back, “how are you?”
“Knackered and a little bit sore!” Her face was still puffy with exhaustion, but she had a colour in her cheeks that hadn’t been there the night before and her eyes were brighter.
“Well, you don’t have to do anything except sit there and get better,” clucked Nain, bringing over another cup of tea and a glass of water. She dragged a little table over with her foot and put the drinks on it so that Tansy could reach them without having to stretch. She told Tansy about her conversation with the midwife and asked Johnny to take Gwennie for a while so that she could run through the list of things she had to check.
Johnny dived at the chance for a cuddle and gently lifted a waking Gwennie from Tansy and wrapped her in another blanket. Cooing to her softly, he took her into his bedroom and went to the window. Everything outside was white: the hills, the fields, the track and even the trees had great globs of snow clinging to their branches.
“Look, little Gwennie, this is snow!” he whispered. “It’s very cold outside but I’ll keep you warm. I’ll look after you; I’ll always look after you, you and your mummy if she’ll allow me. Would you like that?” Gwennie obliged by staring up at him, her big blue eyes gazing, unfocussed, into his. With a gentle finger, he stroked her wisps of white hair, shiny against her red scalp and he felt love pour from him and flow over the tiny baby.
He looked around his bedroom, a haven for seducing women. Tidy and clean without being sterile, it had been honed for enticing women. The chair was wedged into a far corner, so the bed had to be sat on instead. Lamps lit both sides of the bed and the main light was on a dimmer switch. CD number two was always ready to promote lovemaking and only required the press of a single button on the remote control.
Yet, now the carefully chosen duvet cover looked childish, as if a fifteen-year-old boy had chosen it, rather than a twenty-six-year-old man. Who cared whether checks were more appealing to the female eye than stripes? The whole room would look much better if there were a stuffed rabbit thrown onto the bed, or if there were a little crib on the floor at its side. He’d be happy to have Gwen on his side of the bed; he could lift her up if she cried and let Tansy sleep on.
Johnny sat on the bed and leant carefully against the headboard, crooning quietly to Gwennie. Eventually she started making hungry noises and he peeped through the door to check it was OK for him to come back into the kitchen. Tansy had the telephone in her hand and a big smile on her face.
“Hello? Kathy? It’s me, Tansy. Can you hear me OK? I’ve had it – her – a baby girl! Gwennie. Gwennie Elizabeth. I know! And you’ll not believe this – I’m in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere! Snow’s two foot deep outside and we’re snowed in!”
Johnny cradled Gwennie and sang to her to give her mother a little more time. The conversation ended with, “Well, OK, you can just leave him a message. Not that he’ll care anyway. Best tell him though, yeah? OK, thanks, bye. Bye.”
“All right, bach? Everything OK?” Nain had rummaged through Tansy’s bags, run a bowl of warm water and was cleaning up Gwennie, showing Johnny how to pat her dry and then put her in a nappy and some proper baby clothes.
By the time a clean, clothed Gwennie was brought back to her, Tansy seemed quite glum. “Oh, it’s just reality now, isn’t it? And the reality is that my husband has gone and I’m a single parent and I have a baby. How on earth am I going to cope? House is a state, my job’s rubbish and – well – everything…”
“Don’t worry about anything,” said Johnny immediately. “We’ll help; you’ll be fine! Stay as long as you need!”
Nain frowned a warning at him. “Do you want to phone your husband yourself, love? Take the phone into the other room; perhaps if you told him that Gwennie had been born, he might come back?”
“Not that simple, I’m afraid,” whispered Tansy, “not that simple.”
“OK, love.” Nain became all practical again. “It can all be sorted later. Look, here she is, all clean and hungry again too! You can give her another feed and we’ll get out of your way and give you a little peace. Come on, Johnny, haven’t you got some jobs to do?”
Johnny took the hint and reluctantly climbed back into his wellies and headed for the barns.
CHAPTER 24
Mor dwt â nyth dryw – as neat as a wren’s nest
Sima pressed the button on the brushed-chrome juicer and counted to fifteen. She opened the overhead cupboard and reached for two glasses and poured the green-grey liquid into them. Joe came into the kitchen still doing up his tie. “Oh, thanks,” he muttered as she passed him a glass. “What’s this? A puddle?”
“Don’t be puerile; it’s a potassium drink recipe. It’ll rev up your immune system and make you feel full until lunchtime.”
“You’re joking aren’t you?” Joe said and he downed the drink in one go and then wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He grimaced, and then he shuddered. “Maybe it’ll keep me full until the bacon sarnie trolley comes round. Aside from that, it’ll probably just give me the shits.”
“Better perhaps than your usual constipation, though? Come on, Joe, your body needn’t be a temple, but your dad pays more attention to his chickens’ diets than you do your own…”
Joe shrugged, “Spoke to Dad last night by the way, they’ve got snow – two foot in places! Keep getting power cuts – Mother lost the candles apparently – had to wait until the lights came back on to find them!”
“Torches?”
“No, lost them too! All a bit of a disaster! Funny, I miss it really.”
“What losing things and living in the dark?”
“No, weather. Real weather – you know, when you get snowed in. When you have to wear lots of layers. Come on, you must have loved it as a kid, when the bus couldn’t get through or when school was shut and the pipes froze?”
“No, not really. Come on, I’ve got to get going.” Sima quickly emptied the juicer caddy into the bin, then whipped the chopping board, knife, glasses and juicer washables into the dishwasher and slammed the door shut. She grabbed a disposable cloth and slicked it over the surface, removing any hint that food may ever have been prepared in such a temple to hygiene. She tossed the cloth into the bin and the lid shut silently behind her.
“There,” she said, all smiles, “done. Now, can we go?”
“Yeah, s’pose,” said Joe, picking up his briefcase and taking his keys off the hook. “Somehow all that stuff just seems a bit more,
well, real.”
“What now? The juicer?”
“No, the weather, losing torches, having to worry about what your chickens are eating – all that unreliable stuff. I mean,” he said as he pulled the door of the flat to and they waited by the lift, “all this – it’s lovely, don’t get me wrong…”
“Good, or you can stay in your own flat.”
“…but it’s so far removed from what is real. I mean, what am I doing today?”
“Well, if you don’t know, I certainly don’t. Go on, enlighten me – you’re going to buy things? Sell things? Make some money?”
“Exactly. Now, what about you?” The door of the lift slid shut behind them and Sima rolled her eyes as she reached for the underground car park button.
“Joe, what is this? You having an early mid-life crisis or something, just because your mother lost her torch?”
“No, but all I am saying is, well, maybe I’m saying that sometimes we should all think about being a bit more real, you know?”
“Joe. I have a client at nine who needs a life laundry. Another at eleven who is having a divorce and I’m having a full bikini wax at one. How much more reality do you need?” Sima pointed her key fob at her car and popped it open. “Hey, come here,” she said and pulled him towards her. “Don’t be sad just because we’ve got a shower that actually washes us and we don’t wear ten-year-old acrylic jumpers. It’s life! If you want chickens and wellies, well, you’ll have to move back home – they’ve got plenty to go round there – mainly in your parents’ utility room. Look, we’ll talk later, OK? Bye, lover!” and she ducked into her BMW and purred away, leaving Joe to walk in the opposite direction to the tube station – in the drizzle.
Cold Enough to Freeze Cows Page 20