by John Evans
‘Not until Christmas.’
‘Christmas,’ Mandy shrieked.
‘Oh dear, I shouldn’t have said that should I?’ Jan said regretfully, thinking of the added expense.
‘Christmas, oh, yeah, Christmas, can I have an Action Man, Dad?’ David came to life with a vengeance, he always had a ready mental list of things he wanted.
‘Calm down, calm down everyone, it’s a long time to Christmas.’
‘How much dad,’ Mandy asked, her little face creased with concern.
‘Oh, months and months,’ Mike said with great seriousness. This seemed to pacify her and she continued half-heartedly eating her cornflakes.
‘What are you going to do today, Mike?’
‘Well, I was going to start doing up Mandy’s room, but I think I’ll make a start on another pig pen for the young ones. They will have to be weaned soon so we can get her back to the boar. Keith’s got a boar but getting her there is going to be a problem. And we’ll need space in the barn for Primrose. When the weather gets really bad we should bring her in. And she’ll need hay later on; we’ll have to buy some in for this year. I’m going to make our own next year we’ve got plenty of land for it. I wonder if Keith has any for sale. I suppose I could take a drive over there; trouble is I never know when he’s home.’
‘Is hay expensive?’
‘No idea, love. Anyway, better see to Pinky, she’s always starving,’ Mike said, struggling to get into his Wellingtons.
‘Shouldn’t Primrose be calving soon?’
‘Any day now, if Mucky Mary is right. But I’ve got a feeling she gave us the wrong date, she said it was to be about the same time as Pinky. Perhaps we should get Keith over to look at her,’ he paused, and experienced one of his instantaneous sexual opportunity moments. They were getting less frequent in his new environment however today he couldn’t help thinking that perhaps this was the excuse to get Chris to call, ‘or Chris of course,’ he concluded.
‘I should think she has enough to do without traipsing over to look at a cow.’
Mike was disappointed at the put down, ‘okay I’m off then.’ Mike donned his Wellingtons and waterproof coat and braved the great outdoors.
The heavy rain was still falling, but in the barn Mike was dry and warm under the temporary roof. The new pig pen walls were growing slowly and he had stopped for a smoke, admiring his piggy charges as he did so. He was disturbed from his reverie by the sound of a vehicle coming into the yard and he walked outside to see the post van coming into view.
‘Something good today I hope,’ Mike held out his hand for the bundle of letters.
‘Well you never know, they could be full of cheques,’ Postie said with a little laugh, and the little red van rattled out of the yard. Mike began going through the letters has he walked to the house and a flash of excitement crossed his face.
‘Guess what Jan, the phone people have replied at last,’ Mike tore the letter open.
‘Good news I hope,’ Jan’s countenance clouded with concern, she was developing an aversion to brown envelopes – and bills.
‘Yeah - for once. They say because we had a phone back home they will be putting it in for free, even though they have to run the cable all the way back to the Top road. And blimey,’ Mike was now really pleased at the contents, ‘because we are a business it will be done as soon as possible - perhaps next week. Bloody hell, how about that, Darl?’
‘Daddy swore, Mum,’ Mandy, cutting out bits of paper on the kitchen table, sighed disapprovingly.
‘Oh, I’ll forgive him this time, sweetheart, he’s a bit excited,’ Jan grinned, her anticipatory cloud of doom had lifted and she was happy because Mike was happy. ‘That’s fantastic news, love, about time something went our way.’ They gave each other a little hug, and Mike began reading it through again.
‘Might has well have your elevenses now you’re in.’
‘Good idea, lets celebrate.’
‘Toast and Marmy?’
‘Yep, please,’ Mike licked his lips, ‘lovely grub.’
‘Me too, Mum,’ Mandy chirped.
‘And me,’ David appeared from nowhere. Children have such a nose for food.
‘I have an idea,’ Mike announced, Jan, and the children fell silent. They could tell by the smirk on his face that one of his funny moments was imminent, and the kids waited in gleeful anticipation.
‘I thought,’ he paused, relishing the moment and spread some butter on his toast, ‘as a treat we could, tonight,’ he paused again, ‘go and see that film, Door Handles and Brushes. Mandy and David yelled with delight, ‘It’s Bed knobs and Broomsticks, dad, not what you said,’ David corrected, laughing happily.
‘And,’ Mike continued, ‘fish and chips afterwards.’ One would think he had offered them bars of gold, they leapt about the place demented with pleasure.
But that cloud came again and lingered over Jan’s head and she whispered to Mike. ‘What about the money? It will cost at least sixty pence each - and the fish and chips. I don’t think I’ve got that much in my purse.’
‘It’s okay, don’t worry; your dad slipped me a tenner before he left. I was keeping it towards Christmas - but what the hell. We haven’t taken the kids out for months.’
Jan was relieved that the children were not to be disappointed, and a warm glow of love for her father came over her. ‘I think dad realised we’re short of money.’
‘Yeah he’s a good bloke, I like him a lot. We get on really well.’ Mike said warmly.
‘I’ll check in the local paper, see what time the film starts. Oh, and I won’t have to cook tonight will I?’ Jan was delighted at the thought.
‘That’s right love, you can have the night off, not that you deserve it,’ Mike teased.
‘Cheeky devil, no coffee for you now,’ she laughed.
‘Dad, can we have ice cream as well?’ Mandy chirped, pushing her luck while the going was good.
‘We’ll see what we can do, if your really good that is. Otherwise it’ll be chicken pies for you.’
‘Oh no dad, I’ll be good, honest,’ Mandy promised in eager tones.
‘Here it is,’ Jan said rustling through the local paper, ‘The Coliseum,’ sounds posh doesn’t it, starts at seven and this is the last day.’
Mike was struck by further possible leisure opportunities.
‘Why don’t I finish up with the pen building, and then we can drive up to this Abersoch place this afternoon. Have a look around the town, have our fish and chips and on to the flicks. Have a little holiday before school next week, ‘cos the clocks go back tonight. We won’t be going any where much then will we?’
This was revolutionary talk. An afternoon off from their labours? And a meal out, albeit a simple one. The kids were enthusiastic; even they could not live on green fields alone. Since moving in they hadn’t had any family outings or been anywhere of real interest, and many of the surrounding towns and villages were just names on the map.
‘Can we spend our pocket money that Nana and gramps gave us,’ David liked spending money.
‘Don’t see why not, kids, Chris said there are plenty of shops,’ Jan smiled benevolently.
‘That’s settled then, right I’ll finish up in the barn and we can all get ready for the off.’
Mike strode to the barn in a happy mood, and whistling an invented melody between puffs on his cigarette. Even the rain had stopped and he was really looking forward to the rest of the day.
‘There you go Pinky, early feed today, I’m going on holiday this afternoon.’ Mike lent over the pen wall to place the food in the trough,’oh no, bloody hell what’s happened now.’
Two little pink bodies lay in a corner. He went in the pen and picked up the limp cold creatures. Shit and corruption - Mike could swear when he wanted to, damn and bugger it, forty quid down the bloody drain. He was devastated and slumped down on the pile of building blocks and lit up yet another fag. Why had this happened? Was it his fault? He had no one to ask, and he couldn’t ans
wer his own question, which made him even more depressed. It seemed that every time things were happy and hopeful and seemed to be on the up, something dragged them back down. The significant damage to the barn roof, the water damage and expense when the water tank overflowed, the chimney fire and now this. Was there a curse on this bloody place? His stomach felt as though there was a knot in it, and he felt really alone and helpless, as if all his lively energy has been drained from him. This was the first time since moving here he had felt this way. The other problems had never seemed of the same importance as this. Yes, he had experienced little flutters of doubt mostly when he was tired after a day’s work, but nothing like this. Perhaps it was because two little lives had been extinguished was what made it worse, not at all like the problems with the inanimate objects. What was he to do, should he tell Jan and spoil the day?
And what about the children? Even though they had little to do with the animals, Mandy in particular would be upset by death. No I am not. Not today, tomorrow, I’ll tell them tomorrow, yes, tomorrow – sometime…
The town of Abersoch proved pleasant enough and even the sun had come out to greet them, and the children enjoyed buying their essential little bits of this and that. David was keen to have various stickers depicting scenes from the ‘Thunderbirds‘ television program and of course sweets for the cinema. Mandy settled for a weekly magazine about Ponies and proceeded to nag for a little while about having a pony of her own. Jan soon dispelled that idea by saying she was too young to even reach a pony’s knee.
Chris had been right about the range of shops in the town, and Jan had been thorough in discovering which of them might be useful for the Christmas shopping, an inevitability she wasn’t looking forward to. Some of the National stores, like Boots, Woolworth and W. H Smith had a presence, although the branches were fairly small. And the two well-stocked toyshop heavens had been skilfully and quickly by-passed by their alert parents.
Eventually the fish and chips were purchased and they opted to sit and eat them on the promenade in a tiny wooden shelter facing the sea –complete with attendant seagulls. Mike had, with an effort, overcome his depressed and sad state of mind, to enjoy the break from the holding.
‘This is a bit like being on the beach in Barey,’ Mike suggested.
‘I think this beach has more pebbles than sand,’ Jan said, ‘and there’s a short pier. Barey hasn’t got a pier.’
‘Yeah that’s true and this faces West, Barey faces south so I suppose it’s warmer too.’
‘Still it’s a nice change to see the sea again,’ Jan said, perhaps a little too longingly.
Mike sensed her mood and gave her a cheering peck on the cheek.
A couple of prospecting and raucous seagulls flew close by, startling the huddled group.
‘Noisy devils aren’t they? And I think they’re squawking in Welsh too,’ Mike spluttered, his mouth full of yummy fish and chips.
David tittered at the silly notion of Welsh speaking birds, but Mandy wasn’t sure of the concept and pondered the notion.
‘Don’t joke with your mouth full,’ Jan chided good-naturedly.
‘You two horrors enjoying yourselves?’
‘Yeah dad thanks,’ David replied, with an equally food filled mouth.
‘Shall I give the seagulls some chips, Mum?’ Mandy asked with her usual concern for dumb animals
‘No love it’s not a good idea. They won’t leave us alone if you do.’
‘I’ll have your chips if you don’t want them,’ David said eagerly.
‘You should eat them yourself Mandy if you want to be a big girl,’ Jan encouraged.
‘Can I have a pony then, Mum?’ Children never miss a trick do they?
The ‘Coliseum’ cinema was a revelation. It was, had been, an old Victorian musical hall, now with a screen hanging on front of the ancient faded stage curtain. Apart from that all was as it had always been. Pillars and plasterwork, once richly decorated in gold and red now peeling and tatty. There were elaborate gold painted wrought iron balustrades, and on the walls, ornate and now defunct gas light fittings. The ticket office was the original tiny wooden kiosk at the entrance and tickets were dispensed by a pipe smoking, wizened old man, dressed in an equally wizened old suit, and who didn’t utter a word to anyone. They purchased their tickets and the climb to the upper gallery commenced – there was no seating downstairs. All that could be glimpsed in that unlit space were buckets and other randomly placed containers, presumably, to catch leaks from the roof. The walls of the stairway were bedecked with old and tattered posters extolling the entertainment virtues of past performers, most of whom Mike and Jan had never heard of. However, some names struck a bell from their childhood, such as the comedians, Tommy Trinder and Arthur English. The gallery was hardly full and there were only about thirty people present. Which was just as well because the seating was restricted to those seats directly in front of the flat screen.
‘Do you think we are safe up in here; the balcony isn’t going to fall down, is it?’
‘No love I don’t think so, it’s all an adventure isn’t it?’ Mike was finding the experience doubly stimulating as a visit to a cinema was a rare event in their lives, and this place was particularly interesting. They both found sitting in the dark watching the big screen strangely relaxing. Mike lit up a cigarette and they both settled down to the evening’s entertainment.
Chris and Keith were spending the evening at home. Keith was at the kitchen table working yet again on the farm accounts and Chris in the lounge sipping wine and watching the television. Well, her eyes were on the screen but she was thinking about Monday night and the Drama meeting. But the performance she was pondering upon wasn’t the one on stage but with Janice - in the bedroom She wanted a repeat performance, preferably a comfortable indoor matinee, not a grope in the car. And she intended to get one. To Chris the planning for such a sensual meeting was part of the satisfaction. However, she was not in good temper because she was still smarting from the row over the running tap business. She and Keith had hardly spoken to each other for a week. In such a mood as this she was in an even less benevolent frame of mind than usual and was considering Janice, with her ‘lovely’ husband, as a smug bitch, But she had no intention, as yet, of letting her slip out of her grasp. A plan was needed to get her here in the house for at least one more ‘session,’ because Keith might not be going up North quite so often now that his father was getting better. Perhaps a line reading here, at home, would be the answer. Yes, that was it, Thursday would be a good day, and the children were going to a birthday party and staying over night to save the late drive home. Keith would be at his parents – perfect.
‘Cor that was a great film, dad’ David exclaimed, adding, ‘yeah brill.’
‘Dad, can you do magic?’ Mandy enquired in a matter of fact way, as though magic was real.
‘Magic, Mandy, how do you mean?’
‘Well, if you say magic words you can do magic like on the film.’
Mike laughed, ‘I wish I could sweetheart, believe me I really do.’ Yes indeed, for instance he wished he could magic the piglets back to life, wished he could make the crops grow faster. Away from the fantasy of the film world, his head was rapidly filling with everyday thoughts and he remembered he had bad news to tell Jan – sometime…
It was a dark moonless night and the rain had started again, and the return journey needed his full attention. It all looked so different in the dark and as he drove he stared hard at the road ahead looking for some familiar sign that he was going the right way. It was late, coming up to eleven and the kids were tiring and becoming quieter and less of a distraction –which for Mike was a blessing.
‘It’s getting late, shouldn’t we be nearly home by now.’
‘Um, yes, should be, everything looks so different in the dark. Or the same if you see what I mean.’
Mike was trying to find some sort of landmark but he found that one country road looked like any other in the dark. Apart
from Jan’s little trips to Am Dram, this was the first time they had been out so far from home and in the dark. The rain was lashing down, further hindering Mikes vision and quest for the right road. The roads were deserted and not one car was seen, there were certainly no walkers. Mike was beginning to long for street lights, or least some signs of life.
‘Are we home yet Mum,’ Mandy was becoming restless and wanted her bed.
‘Nearly, won’t be long now.’
Mike drove on.
‘It’s nearly half past eleven, Mike, where the heck are we?’
‘I think I’m heading in the right direction now.’
‘Yes, I think so, I recognise this bit. Yes, Mike, yes here, turn here, here on the left,’ Jan shouted, but Mike missed the turning anyway and he reversed back up the lane. He stopped and they both peered into the black maw of yet another country lane.
‘This is it Mike, this is the road to the Am Dram, I know where we are now,’ she gave a sigh of relief, ‘nearly home kids, we won’t be long now, promise.’
‘Thank God for that, if we’d gone much further we would have been back in Barey. Bit much when we can’t find our own house isn’t it?’
They both gave weak laughs of relief. It would all seem really funny in the morning.
Next day, Sunday, the family were in the sitting room digesting the wonderful roast beef lunch that Jan had splashed out on. She had bought the joint in readiness for her mother and fathers visit. As it turned out Jan’s mother had also brought piece of meat with her, as a present. Hence the luxury of another Sunday roast.
Outside the rain was unceasing and it had been a late meal so Mike had decided to stay in and have a couple of hours off. It would soon be dark anyway. He still hadn’t told Jan about the loss of the piglets, but, as the rest of the family rarely went to that end of the barn, he had, so far, got away with not telling them the bad news.
‘I think I’ve got the hang of making these now,’ Mike took a drag on his hand rolled fag.
‘Um,’ Jan responded disinterestedly.
‘And I’ve been thinking if we could make a start on the house soon, we might get some B and Bs in by the spring. So I’ll go and see the bank manger tomorrow before the overdraft runs out.’