by Rosie Harris
Now they had the letters in their hands, they stared at each other uncertainly, afraid to slit open the envelopes for fear of what they would read.
‘It’s no good. I can’t do it!’ Cindy admitted ruefully.
‘Neither can I,’ Rebecca nodded in agreement.
They were lifelong friends, inseparable since the first day they went to school, when they were five years old. Now, as they stood there holding the brown envelopes and staring at each other, the affinity between them was patently obvious.
Almost simultaneously they both held their letter out towards the other and said, ‘You open mine and I’ll open yours.’
Solemnly they exchanged letters, their eyes wide, their lips clamped together, as they perused the information.
‘You first,’ Cindy ordered, looking at Rebecca.
Rebecca shook her head. ‘No, you first.’
‘OK.’ Cindy paused dramatically, then grinned broadly. ‘You’ve got an A or A* in everything,’ she exclaimed excitedly. ‘You’ll definitely be accepted for the course we decided to go for.’ Her eyes shone with delight. ‘Oh, Rebecca, how wonderful! I’m so pleased, it’s going to be the start of a whole new way of life.’
‘Whew!’ Rebecca let out a long sigh of relief.
‘What about mine?’ Cindy urged.
Rebecca’s face clouded. ‘You … You’ve not done too well, Cindy. B’s and C’s. I’m so sorry.’
‘You’re joking!’ Cindy stretched out a hand. ‘Let me see.’
She snatched the report from Rebecca’s hand and her face fell as she perused it.
‘Great! I never wanted to go to university. Now there’s no chance, so perhaps they’ll all stop going on about it!’ Cindy declared, her chin jutting stubbornly.
‘You can’t give up that easily,’ Rebecca protested. ‘It may still be possible for you to take your exams again.’
‘When I’ve only got B’s and C’s?’
‘Yes, if you resit a couple of subjects and get really good marks.’
‘Not a chance!’
‘Well, then, maybe you should query your results in case they’ve made a mistake in the marking. It has been known to happen,’ she said forcefully when Cindy didn’t answer.
‘Stop talking such rubbish!’ Cindy said dismissively.
Rebecca bit her lip. She was overjoyed by her own results but didn’t quite know what to say to Cindy. They had shared everything and done everything together all their lives, they had played the same games and even dressed alike at times.
Like their daughters, their mothers were good friends and complete opposites in appearance. Sandra Peterson was of medium height and build and blonde with grey eyes; Mavis Mason was short and plump with dark hair and eyes. Because the Masons ran a farm and the Petersons owned the butcher’s shop they had a great many interests in common, and they enjoyed each other’s company.
Rebecca and Cindy had pushed their dolls in identical prams side by side up and down the village. They’d joined the Brownies and then the Girl Guides together. They’d taken part in concerts and plays together at school. They’d both had red scooters and then identical bikes.
At eleven they’d both passed to go to high school, which meant a daily journey on the bus to the nearest town.
Rebecca could still remember their first day at the new school. Wearing identical dark-brown gymslips, white blouses and yellow blazers, they’d walked up the driveway holding hands, the same as they’d done on their first day at infant school.
As they grew older, they’d gone off together on their bicycles for journeys of exploration that had taken them to King Alfred’s Tower at Stourton, to Castle Hill in Mere, to Wincanton, and even further afield if Cindy’s brother Jake was with them to make sure they were safe and didn’t get lost.
They were only allowed to go to the dances occasionally held in the village hall if Jake and his friends were going as well. They even had to promise their parents they would stay together and that, when they came home, Jake and Cindy would see Rebecca to her door.
They’d both been so confident that they would go to university together that Rebecca found it difficult to accept she would now be going on her own.
She suspected that Cindy’s mum and dad would also be bitterly disappointed, and would probably give Cindy a hard time when they heard her results.
She knew that in the past year Cindy hadn’t really been keen on studying. She was far more interested in fashion and dreamed of one day becoming involved in fashion writing or becoming a model, or even going on the stage. Nevertheless, because they’d always done everything together, they had still anticipated that they would be going to university together.
For a moment they stood staring at each other, then they were hugging.
‘Congrats, Rebecca, I’m so happy for you because I know it’s what you wanted.’
‘I also wanted you to be there with me,’ Rebecca told her and hugged her again.
‘We had to go our separate ways sometime,’ Cindy said resignedly as they pulled free from each other.
‘Not like this,’ Rebecca said ruefully.
They stared at each other for a moment in silence and then giggled nervously.
‘I suppose we’d better go home and face the music – triumphant in your case and doleful in mine,’ Cindy grimaced
‘See you later – that’s if you are allowed out,’ Rebecca joked.
Cindy flicked back her shoulder-length hair defiantly. ‘I’ll be in such disgrace I’ll probably get kicked out for good,’ she quipped. ‘Can I borrow your tent? Jake’s planning to use ours for a camping holiday with some of his mates this weekend.’
‘Perhaps we should ask him to take us with him? It might be our last chance to do something together.’
‘Go to a music festival? You must be joking! It always rains and we’d be up to our ankles in mud.’
‘Is that where they’re going? How exciting!’
‘Believe me, it’s not. You have to take a shower in a communal block and that’s where the lavatories are as well. Even Jake complains about how they smell.’
‘That shouldn’t worry him too much, seeing as you live on a farm!’
‘Half the time I don’t think he bothers about showering,’ Cindy went on, ignoring Rebecca’s comment. ‘It’s the first thing Mum makes him do when he comes home. You should see his clothes and the state he’s in when he gets home. It would make you heave.’
Both Sandra and Bill Peterson were overjoyed at Rebecca’s results. But Sandra couldn’t believe it when Rebecca told her that Cindy’s grades weren’t good enough to take her to university.
‘Poor girl, her mother will be so disappointed! I wonder if I should phone Mavis?’
Before she could decide, the phone rang. It was Cindy’s mother.
‘You must be delighted by Rebecca’s results, Sandra, I’m so pleased for her,’ Mavis told her before she could say a word.
‘Thank you, we are relieved. Extremely sorry to hear that Cindy didn’t do quite so well.’
‘Cindy failed,’ Mavis stated exasperatedly. ‘I knew she would, even though Tom was sure she’d do well. But I wasn’t. Her heart hasn’t been in it for months. When she should have been studying, most of the time she was up in her room emailing her friends or reading comments on Twitter or checking out Facebook.
‘All she seemed to think about was getting a job and earning her own money. That and becoming something glamorous, like a model or an actress. I’ve just been telling her that’s about as likely as going to university, so she can come down to earth and start doing her share of the work on the farm – like mucking out at six in the morning, the same as I have to.’
‘You’re being a bit hard on her, aren’t you, Mavis?’ Sandra said in a conciliatory tone. ‘Maybe she was a bit off colour or it was the wrong time of the month when she did her exams. Perhaps she can sit them again?’
‘I don’t think Tom would agree to that. No, she’s had her chance. N
ow she must accept the consequences of not applying herself diligently enough, and grow up and work for her living.’
‘Don’t be too hasty. Think about it, Mavis. You are probably surprised by her results. That is why you feel the way you do, but—’
‘I’m very pleased for Rebecca,’ Mavis cut in abruptly. ‘Tell her so, will you? I must go, there’s work to be done. See you soon. Bye!’
The receiver at Mavis’s end went down with a clatter and Sandra sighed. ‘Poor Mavis!’ she murmured as she replaced her own receiver. ‘She really was counting so much on Cindy going to university.’
‘So was I,’ Rebecca said sadly. ‘We’ve always done everything together for as long as I can remember, and I dread the idea of having to face university on my own.’
‘You’ll have to get used to the idea. That’s part of growing up,’ Sandra told her.
‘I know, Mum, but it’s going to be so strange having no one to confide in. When there are two of you, you can face most things. Between us we’ve always managed to sort out all our problems. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to do that on my own.’
‘Well, don’t start getting ideas about leaving school and starting work just because that’s what Cindy will have to do,’ her mother said sharply.
‘I’m not. I want to go to university,’ Rebecca stressed quickly.
‘Your dad has always dreamed of you doing so and achieving great things in the future,’ Sandra went on, ignoring what Rebecca had said. ‘He’s talked of nothing else for years, and now he knows what good results you’ve achieved he’ll expect you to make the most of your opportunity.’
‘I know and I intend to do so,’ Rebecca assured her.
‘Well, mind you do! Don’t you ever forget what he expects of you, passing your exams for university is only the first step on the ladder.’
Three
Sandra had finished her ironing, put everything away, and made herself and Rebecca a cup of tea. Then they’d watched their favourite TV programme and still Bill had not returned.
Sandra was puzzled. After Rebecca went off to bed, she sat there trying to work out where he could be. She hoped she hadn’t upset him by her outburst about not having a car and having to use the van whenever she went anywhere.
It was as much her choice as his, she reflected. Years ago when he had suggested they should get a car she’d pointed out that it was really an unnecessary expense – the van was very smart and extremely comfortable and easy to drive, and because of its distinctive picture and lettering it was always easy to find in a crowded car park.
He couldn’t really be upset, she told herself, because he had kissed her and seemed to be in high spirits when he’d left the house.
She watched the ten o’clock news, then decided to go to bed and read her book. She was so tired that after a few pages she switched off the light and settled down to sleep.
She slept so soundly she didn’t hear Bill come in. And when the alarm went off at seven o’clock next morning they were all so rushed she forgot all about what had taken place the previous night.
After Rebecca left for school, the two of them had to get to work. Then they were busy in the shop all day and there was no time to talk about their problems.
When they put the ‘Closed’ sign on the door at six o’clock, Bill said, ‘I have to go somewhere. Keep my supper warm if I’m not home by seven.’
‘Where are you going?’ Sandra asked as she picked up her handbag and the bag of lamb chops she had put to one side for their supper.
‘I’ll tell you all about it when I get home,’ he said cryptically as he jingled the keys to the van and, holding the shop door open, waited for her to leave.
Surprised by his behaviour, Sandra shrugged and said nothing. But as she walked home, she tried to puzzle out what Bill was up to. He had an unusually smug look about him, as if there was some secret he was bursting to disclose.
Sandra and Rebecca had almost finished their meal when Bill reached home. He washed his hands at the kitchen sink, kissed them both and, without a word to explain where he had been or why he was late, sat down to the plate of chops and mash and carrots that Sandra placed in front of him.
The moment their meal was over, Rebecca pushed her chair back and said she was going up to her room to read for an hour then was going up to the Masons’ farm to see Cindy.
Once they were on their own, Sandra asked Bill what was going on.
‘As soon as I’ve finished eating, I’ll show you,’ Bill promised.
Sandra collected up the dirty dishes and took them across to the sink.
‘Leave those for the moment,’ Bill told her. He took her by the arm and guided her outside and towards where he’d parked the van.
‘Look!’ he grinned as he unfastened the rear doors of the van and opened them as wide as he could.
Sandra stared at the roll of roofing material, lengths of wood, wire netting, wooden posts and galvanized sheets stacked inside, then turned with a puzzled frown to look at Bill.
‘What’s all this stuff? Why on earth do we want it?’
‘To build a home for Molly—’
‘Molly? Who on earth is Molly, for heaven’s sake? What on earth are you talking about, Bill?’
‘Molly is a white Landrace pig,’ Bill explained. ‘I’m going to build a pen and a run for her.’
Sandra looked so bewildered that Bill laughed. ‘I’m collecting her the day after tomorrow. I had to go and get all this stuff tonight so I can start building the pen for her right away. You can help if you like.’
‘What on earth do we want with a pig?’ She shuddered. ‘Dirty grunting beast, it will ruin the garden with its rooting.’
‘Pigs aren’t dirty. In fact they’re very clean animals. They like to have a bed of fresh clean straw and they never ever foul it,’
‘They roll in mud!’
‘Only when they’re hot. They’re very sensitive to heat and can even suffer from sunburn. They like to paddle in water or roll in mud to cool down and to get rid of fleas and parasites. As for grunting, well, that’s their way of communicating. It means they are happy and contented. They give a sort of bark when they’re hungry and a shrill shriek when they’re frightened.’
‘Really!’ Sandra commented sarcastically. ‘You seem to know a great deal about them. Is this how this Molly is going to behave?’
‘Wait until you meet her and you’ll love her. She’s very docile and she’s expecting a litter in about three weeks’ time.’
‘A litter! You do realize that pigs can have a litter of twelve piglets? We’ll be overrun if she produces that many.’
‘Yes, that’s the idea. Think seven or eight months ahead when they are all full-grown and ready for market. We’re going to be able to sell home-produced pork. How about that!’
Although Sandra understood that Bill thought it was a great way to increase their turnover, she was not enthusiastic. She would far sooner they continued to buy in carcasses of pork from the abattoir, as they had always done, rather than try to breed their own.
‘It’s going to cost a small fortune to feed them,’ she pointed out.
‘No, not a bit of it! Pigs eat practically anything and everything, from meat and vegetables to bread and milk. We’ll be able to feed them on all the scraps we have from the shop as well as from our own kitchen. I’ve had a word with Tom Mason and he’ll let us have milk or anything else he has left over or can’t sell. The only thing we’ll have to buy to supplement their diet is some wheat or barley, or some other grain.’
‘Well, good luck! I can see you’ve done your homework and that your mind is set on it. All I can see is extra work,’ Sandra said drily.
‘You wait until you meet Molly, you’ll love her.’
‘If you say so! You’d better get started on that pen,’ she added as she poked at one of the posts jutting out of the van. ‘Where were you planning to build this mansion?’
‘At the top of the garden. Then the garden fe
nce on one side will serve as part of her run and she’ll be as far away from the house as possible,’
‘You mean where we’ve always grown potatoes?’
‘Mm!’ Bill frowned. ‘I suppose we’ll have to reorganize things in the garden so we can grow them somewhere else. Perhaps in that plot where we have the sweet peas and dahlias?’
‘You mean I’ll have to sacrifice my flower garden!’ Sandra murmured.
Bill grinned and he gave her a quick hug. ‘Sorry, love, but look on the bright side. It will save you a whole lot of hard work tending them and watering them all through the summer.’
‘Well, since I won’t be using any energy doing that, I suppose I’d better give you a hand getting this lot into place.’
It took them almost an hour to carry all the planks and other materials to the top of the garden. Rebecca came out to see what they were doing.
Sandra left it to Bill to break the news to her about Molly.
Rebecca was far more enthusiastic than Sandra had been, especially when Bill told her that in a few weeks’ time Molly would be giving birth to piglets.
‘That’s so cool. I’ve always wanted a pet. We’ve never had one, not even a cat. Mind you’, she sighed. ‘I always wanted a dog,’
‘You know that’s not practical,’ her mother said sharply. ‘Dogs need exercising, and with you at school and both your dad and me working in the shop that would be impossible.’
‘I know, I’m just saying,’ Rebecca replied sulkily. Then her face cleared and her smile returned.
‘Wait until I tell Cindy and Jake!’ she enthused. ‘I wonder why the Masons don’t have pigs? They’ve got almost every other animal on their farm.’
‘Perhaps they don’t like them because they are so smelly and they do so much damage with their rooting and they’re so noisy with all their grunting,’ Sandra muttered.
‘I’ve been trying to explain to your mother, Becky, that pigs are not dirty animals. They’re very sensitive and extremely clean in their habits. Grunting is their way of communicating.’
‘Yes, they’re supposed to be quite intelligent and soon get to know your voice and recognize you,’ Rebecca said, smiling.