Cold Enough to Freeze Cows

by Lorraine Jenkin

  “You look gorgeous!” she’d said as she’d stood back to admire her work and he had to admit that he very nearly did. Somehow, the same barber that he’d been to since he was a lad had finally done something other than simply cut it and, under Sima’s instructions, he actually had a style. He wasn’t sure that he could recreate it on his own, but it was nice to know that he did brush up well with a little effort, even if that effort had to be made by someone else.

  He should have been standing wondering what his date would be like, what they would talk about, whether they would get on, but he wasn’t. He was thinking about Menna. He’d seen her in her truck in town and that had made him nervous. Then Sima had had to rush from the barbers and he was sure that he’d seen them walking up the street together, going God knew where.

  It was a shame that Menna couldn’t see him now, looking as good as he did. She normally saw him covered in mud / briars / axle grease or eating her father’s lunch, and it would be nice to show her that he could look good when the occasion arose. He’d kicked himself when he’d realised that he’d arranged this date for the night of the Sheep Breeders’. Typical: absolutely nothing happens for months and then there’s two things on the same night.

  “Perhaps I could re-arrange Lulu?” he’d suggested to Johnny Brechdan.

  “You’re joking, aren’t you? The first decent date you’ve had in years, with someone who wouldn’t rather be out with me and you want to postpone it in favour of a night with your parents and a hundred other pissed farmers singing ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining’ and trying to remember how to rock and roll? Honestly, Iestyn, there’ll always be next year and the year after that and they’ll all be exactly the same!”

  “S’pose so,” he’d said, trying to ignore the recurring image of his mother trying to jitterbug.

  So, he decided to go for it – the big date with Lulu. But Menna normally went to the Sheep Breeders’. Normally wore a pair of trousers and a shiny top, and chugged pints like a navvy, but it would be nice to see her. To try and sit near her. Make her laugh and try and catch the twinkle in her eye…

  He heard a call from downstairs. “Iest – we’re all ready! For God’s sake come on before we lose Dad to the barn again; the bugger’s been out chasing rats with a length of alcathene pipe all this time!”

  “Aye, and I’d have had the big bastard if you’d given me another two minutes an’ all.”

  Iestyn picked up his wallet and put it in his back pocket. He checked his hair once more and left the room. The others were waiting in the kitchen, Joe looking well-fed in an expensive suit, Sima looking devastatingly beautiful in a silver off-the-shoulder number with a black lacy shawl draped around her for warmth and Mother in the same dress that she’d worn every year for the past twenty years, but with brown lace-ups in place of the usual gold flatties. She spotted Iestyn’s questioning gaze. “Oh, I couldn’t find my dancing shoes, now, can we just go?”

  Father stood at the door, washed and scrubbed in record time and looking dapper in the suit he’d got married in. “Come on, come on – your carriage awaits…” and he winked at his wife and took her by the arm.

  They all climbed into Joe’s Jeep and Iestyn hopped into the driving seat and quickly put the heaters on and soon they were all warm and snug and heading off down the track for their big night out. They stopped at the first gate. “Mother’ll have to get out,” sniggered Tomos. “She’s got the right shoes on…”

  “Oi, you,” giggled Isla, but she jumped out into the slush and the darkness. Iestyn could feel Sima’s glare at Joe.

  “Well, I’ve got my suedes on,” he claimed, a little wounded.

  “Suedes?” laughed Tomos. “You’ll be like Dancin’ Dafydd!”

  “Dancin’ Dafydd?”

  “No, it was Jiggling John; you remember – at the Lakeside.”

  “Jiggling John?”

  “No, no, it wasn’t the Lakeside, it was Beryl’s uncle’s place.”

  “Beryl’s uncle’s? No, she was the one with the hernia. You mean Phillip Evans. You know – Phillip and the cream cake…”

  Sima looked out into the blackness: it could well be a long night.

  Iestyn drove into the car park of the Lamp Hotel and pulled into a space. All around him there were 4 x 4’s, some battered and ancient, others brand new and gleaming. Nearly all had had some kind of cleaning out for the occasion. Greying snow still lay on the ground and so most of the guests had reluctantly spurned their cars and opted to use their trucks instead despite the agricultural odours, which clashed nicely with the unaccustomed scent of Old Spice and Yardley’s Lavender.

  “Right,” said Iestyn, “everyone out! Have a lovely evening and I’ll call by on my way back and give you a lift home if you’re still here. Text me, yeah, if anything changes,” he added to Joe, “and thanks for the loan of the Jeep; it’ll give me a bit of a head start and, by Christ, I need it!”

  “Nonsense, you look fantastic!” Sima said. “Now, enjoy yourself, and don’t worry about us. We’ll just get a taxi home if need be.”

  “Taxi?” muttered Tomos. “You’ll not find a rank at the end of this road, bach…”

  Iestyn watched them go, two couples arm in arm. Joe supporting Sima and her unsuitable shoes across the snow and Mother supporting Father with her brown lace-ups and his worn-out soles. The last thing he heard was Father mumbling, “I hope they’ve got lots of spuds this year: I’m so hungry, I could eat a scabby horse raw…”

  Iestyn checked his watch, still plenty of time to get to the restaurant to meet Lulu. He still wasn’t sure how he’d find her. She’d said she’d wear a bright red blouse and that she had blonde hair. Sounded good to him and he assumed that the China Palace wouldn’t have many women like that in it on a winter’s night! He reached over and mucked about with Joe’s stereo, pressing all the buttons and running through the CDs on his multi-changer. Joe’s tastes had moved on a little further than his own had and he turned the volume up high, cocooned in his luxurious world, lit by a dashboard of blue lights and with climate control keeping him warm.

  As he settled on CD number five, he noticed a lump on the seat next to him. Damn – Joe’s wallet. He’d need that later, thought Iestyn; Sima had looked like she needed more than a little placating. He picked it up and jumped out of the Jeep, shocked by the difference in temperature as the chill wind hit him. He hurried across the car park, nodding to a few neighbours as they climbed out of their trucks, all exclaiming about the cold weather.

  He felt a little self-conscious as he walked in, everyone else being in evening wear and wanting to stop and chat. He just wanted to poke his head in and go. The hall widened into a lobby – good, there was Sima just coming out of the Ladies, looking fantastic as usual and people all around were turning and staring.

  “Sima!” he called. “Over here!” He walked over and gave her the wallet.

  “Good,” she smiled, “he’ll – no, I’ll be needing that later!” She thanked Iestyn and wished him a good night again, then mumbled about going in to face her doom and off she went, a picture of style and elegance amongst the smell of mothballs and past-its-expiry-date perfume.

  Iestyn turned and headed back towards the door, just as it was pushed open and Menna Edwards walked in. Iestyn stopped in his tracks and stared: what on earth had been going on? In place of a woman in a pair of jeans and trainers, was a beauty in an orangey-red dress. She hadn’t noticed him as she was busy untwining a lacy scarf from round her neck. The dress was a strapless thick brocade tube with ruches up the front and – oh my God – Menna Edwards had curves!

  She had a gold necklace at her throat that complemented the dress and gave her a warm glow. Her hair was clipped up at the back, apart from a few wisps that fell around her beautiful, freckled face. She had make-up on, but only a little and she looked absolutely – stunning.

  At last she looked up and Iestyn realised that he was standing, gasping, with his mouth open.

  “Iestyn…”

 
; “Hi, Menna – you look, well, fabulous!”

  She smiled a coy smile, “Thanks! You, er, you do too!”

  “Me? Oh, no, I’m not dressed for here – I’ve got to go somewhere else tonight, I’m afraid. Worse luck, eh?” He was aware that he was gabbling, “Yeah, I’ve got a date. Never mind, eh? It’ll be the same stuff as last year and next year too I expect. ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining’ and all that, eh?” He thought he saw her face fall. He wasn’t sure – but if it did, it had soon recovered.

  “Well, I’d better, well, go on in – y’ know, make sure I don’t end up sat next to Bad Breath Ken again…”

  “Sima’s there – and Joe. Look, why don’t I…I wish I was… Oh, I’d better go. Have a good evening…”

  “Yes, and you. Enjoy your – date.” And she flashed him a smile that made his heart jump and she walked past him, a little unsteadily due to a pair of orangey-red heels.

  He turned and watched her go. He felt sick. Why hadn’t he just followed his gut instinct and cancelled bloody Lulu? What was the point of seeing someone new when he so wanted to be with Menna? Why was he going to fart about with chopsticks when he could be dancing to Shout! and the Grease medley that DJ Dave finished every single one of his crappy discos with?

  He watched as she sashayed up the corridor, looking so small and dainty now that she wasn’t padded out with excess denim and a bulky rugby shirt.

  Should he just stay? Brechdan would. He’d just text Lulu and say, “Sorry, can’t make it,” or maybe not even bother doing that. But then again, he didn’t have a ticket for the dinner. Even if he did decide to blow Lulu out, he wouldn’t be able to have a meal. He couldn’t just perch on a chair at the side of a table in a pair of jeans, looking like he’d forgotten where he was supposed to be, just because Menna Edwards had a dress on.

  Still he stood and watched, his neck craned round to see as Menna clicked open her little bag and fiddled with something in it. Then she threw her shoulders back and made to walk into the hall, first giving a tiny backward glance that shook Iestyn into action. He gave a half-wave and turned and strode back into the night.

  Louisa looked at her mauve bedside clock: eight minutes past eight. Right. Time to go. Fifteen minutes’ drive, five extra to accommodate the snow and then a bit more time to allow her to be a little late and oooh, so busy, I nearly didn’t get round to coming. That was what they said, wasn’t it? Not to be too keen? Well, she was keen. Very keen. But, this Iestyn bloke didn’t have to know it.

  She brushed her hair again, then changed her mind and ruffled it a bit – tousled hair, wasn’t that the in thing at the moment? That’s what Rachel had had the other day, anyway. She turned to the side again and looked at her new jeans. Rachel had been right, they did look good. She still wasn’t so sure about the top: she sucked her stomach in and then the top fell nicely. Sod it: now she’d just have to suck it in until she sat down and then – look out! Maybe she shouldn’t have a starter, or give pudding a miss? Or maybe have a starter as a main course? She picked up her handbag and clomped down the stairs. Actually, she was quite peckish: perhaps she should just have all three if her stomach was going to stick out whatever…

  Louisa took one last look at herself in the hall mirror, adjusted her necklace and gave a dazzling smile. “Right,” she said, “goodbye Louisa, hello – Lulu! Oh Iestyn, you are a lucky boy…” Mind you, it would have been nice if her parents could have been bothered to be at home to wish her luck…what a pair of charmers!

  Iestyn drove along the lanes towards Tan-y-Bryn. The music was loud, but he wasn’t really listening. She’d looked gorgeous tonight, and even he’d looked passable – what a waste! There was still time… He could text Lulu, tell her he’d had a puncture or something. Drive back to The Lamp. Walk into the hall, scoop Menna out of her chair and then carry her, laughing, out and never put her down. Ideally he’d be wearing a white officer’s suit and she’d work in a factory, but wearing Joe’s trousers and rescuing her from Bad Breath Ken would be plenty romantic enough.

  Brechdan would do it. Brechdan would blow out Lulu and go back and claim his girl. But then Brechdan would shag his girl senseless for two weeks, get bored, give her the clap and then go and apologise to Lulu with a large bunch of flowers and so it would go on. Just wasn’t Iestyn’s style, so he put his indicator on and glided into a parking space outside the restaurant. Somehow he’d managed to make it to the China Palace without being aware of any of the journey. Oh well. He was here now and might as well get on with it. Menna probably didn’t want to be carried out into the night by a bloke wearing his brother’s clothes anyway, especially if she hadn’t finished her pint. For all he knew, she might be seeing someone else; perhaps someone else had bought that fantastic dress so that she didn’t have to wear that white shirt and black trousers combo again?

  Iestyn stuffed his wallet into his back pocket and jumped out of the Jeep, his landing splashing slush up his trouser legs. Great. Now he looked as if he’d peed on himself. He set off into the restaurant feeling as if he were going to seal his romantic doom.

  Esther was sitting at the interview room table, crying in the cold. She had an empty bladder, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a mug of tea at her side. PC Taylor was writing her statement down as she spoke, in between sobs. Even through her distress it sounded pathetic and small-minded.

  “So, because your husband left his shoes lying around, you decided to send a letter to a hairdresser to tell her that she smelled and to, in effect, ruin her confidence?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Ri-ight.”

  “And, your daughter wouldn’t make her own hot chocolate, so you sent a letter to the Tasty Bite and, in effect, closed their business?”

  “Yes.”

  PC Taylor’s disbelieving shake of her head ground the rest of the Esther’s self-worth into the tatty lino floor.

  *

  Iestyn was sitting fiddling at a table in the corner. He hadn’t ever been on a blind date before and he was feeling nervous as he was very definitely way out of his comfort zone. Sitting there faffing with his cuffs, he now realised that it had all happened very quickly. He’d written a few witty remarks and then asked a stranger for a date. She’d written a few witty remarks back and then agreed to go on a date: was that right? Was that how it should happen?

  Surely people should get to know each other a little before they arranged to spend a whole evening together? He wasn’t sure if he’d invited her for a meal because he liked the sound of her – or because he wanted to get Sima off his back?

  And why had this Lulu agreed to a date so quickly? Had his half dozen comments made such a huge impression that she desperately needed to find out more about him? Or was she being hassled by someone from her end? Was she desperate to go out with anyone? Quite probably all of those: this evening could be a big disaster for both of them…

  On top of all that what could he possibly talk to a stranger about for two hours? Or maybe an hour and a half if he ate quickly? Joe had said to talk about whatever he would talk to the bloke behind him in the queue in Powys Farmers’. Sima had said that he was to do nothing of the sort, but that if he got stuck for conversation to ask Lulu something about herself. Brechdan had said to talk about the curve of her breasts, or to ask how she liked her eggs in the morning…

  The restaurant was beautiful. It had rich furnishings, drapes on the walls and Iestyn had got to his table by walking over a little footbridge that spanned a pond with fish gliding about amongst the weeds. The gentle music slowly improved his mood and the aromas that swept over him every time the waitress walked past carrying someone else’s supper made him feel very hungry.

  He’d not eaten anything since an afternoon tea of mother’s scones and three mugs of tea at four o’clock, and although Joe had remarked that he, Iestyn, had eaten enough to floor a rhinoceros, he was now empty again. “It’s because I’m not clogged up with bagels or whatever it is that you city folk eat,” he had retor
ted.

  Joe had dismissed him with a smirk to Sima. “This is the guy that, until last week, called them ‘baggels’ as in waggles. Take no notice!”

  The waitress brought over a jug of water with ice and lemon in and poured him a glass and he smiled at her. She was beautiful with long black hair and brilliant white teeth. Actually, he thought as he tufted his hair around again, he was beginning to feel quite good! Perhaps it was time to break out of Bwlch y Garreg occasionally and start to spread his wings. Maybe outside of Bwlch y Garreg, people did casually arrange to go on dates. Perhaps it was only in Bwlch y Garreg that people waited for fourteen years to approach someone they fancied? The door opened and a woman with blonde hair and a red top peered round it. Ah, the mysterious Lulu, must be! Iestyn got to his feet and walked over to greet her.

  She was pale and soft and her hair was shining under the restaurant spotlights. She wasn’t quite the six-foot sultry fox in spike heels and a red crop top that Iestyn now realised that he had been expecting, but she looked, well, nice. Not as nice as Menna, mind, she’d looked gorgeous…

  Sima was sitting at a large round table as Joe joked and laughed about skinning knuckles on farming implements with five other ruddy-faced men. “Don’t you dare ignore me this evening,” she’d warned Joe, “I’ll be more than pissed off if you disappear with all your old cronies to talk about splash marks on toilet walls and leave me sitting on my own…”

  “Sima!” he’d said, incredulously. “Come on! I’ll only know a few people there and I’ll introduce you to everyone I speak to; I’ll be so proud to be there with you and, anyway, I am sure that you have a few tales about splash marks of your own to tell…” However, despite the good intentions, Sima was left alone. Finally, just as the compère called to everyone to take their seats for dinner, she saw Menna walk in. Sima stood up and to her relief, Menna spotted her wave and walked over, pretending to be unaware of all the looks and nudges that her changed appearance was getting.