Goldhill's Treasure

by Jilly Bowling

  “Do him good for one day” another said “they swan off to work and leave all that to us most mornings.”

  “That’s why I use the launderette once a week for the big stuff I can’t get dry at home. Gives me a break once a week,” the first one said.

  Sophie listened quietly, obviously it wasn’t just her man who took her for granted. It made her better to think it was probably the norm. They all helped each other to fold their clothes once they were dry, especially the sheets and duvet covers, that made up most of the women’s washes and Sophie left feeling as if she’d become part of the group.

  The traffic had built up as she was driving home with commuters and parents doing the school run so it was gone eight thirty by the time she reached home. Mick and his men were already there so she went up to the cottage to see them.

  “Going to knock through into the extensions today, then once the folding doors arrive for the lounge the place will be totally weatherproof.” Mick told her.

  “Gosh it’s so exciting to see it all falling into place. The windows look good in the bedroom.”

  “Yes, the idea to have the outside brown like wood really makes the modern double glazing fit in with the old bricks.”

  “Glad you approve, that was my idea. I thought white on the outside would look wrong, but wanted white on the inside to keep the room as light and modern as possible.”

  “The sliding doors are arriving this morning and the company send their own fitters, so it means my lads can really get on with the doorways etc. inside, and next week we’ll have the kitchen built, all being well with the weather.”

  “Good, well I’ll go and make breakfast and then I must get the ironing done, Calum goes back to London tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Mick frowned, “I thought he was her ‘till Saturday or Sunday.”

  “Change of plan, the producer’s throwing a party tomorrow night for the money people and he’s got to be there.”

  “Oh well, it’s a hard job but someone’s got to do it.” Mick grinned.

  “Mmm, I’ll give you a shout when the butties are ready.” Sophie walked down the drive thinking ‘ A hard job indeed!’

  Back in the van Calum was still snoring so she left him to it and made the workmen’s breakfast. Sometimes she wished she hadn’t started this, but they did appreciate it and were well ahead of schedule on the building work. Sometimes a carrot did work better than a whip. Once the sandwiches and tea were ready she called the men and sat outside and had a cup of tea with them.

  When they’d gone back to work she decided to stand outside and do the ironing so she lugged the board out and fixed up the extension cable. Plugging the iron in, after adding water, she sorted through the black bags to see what definitely needed ironing. Her tee shirts and things she wore to work in were put in one pile and Calum’s shirts and jeans were put into another. Inevitably Calum’s pile was larger. The only things of hers that needed ironing were one tidy blouse and the dress she’d worn last night. Two hours later she was still ironing as Calum stook his head out of the van.

  “Any chance of something to eat? I’ve got a stinker of a headache. Hope I’m not coming down with a bug” he moaned.

  Sophie couldn’t stop herself “You mean you’ve got a hangover and are dehydrated. Make yourself a cup of tea, I’ve got five more shirts to iron and then I’ll make some lunch.”

  He was startled, usually she dropped everything if he wanted something but he just withdrew his head, allowing a hangdog expression to show on his face.

  Sophie sighed in exasperation, he was worse than a child, but she kept on ironing. Half an hour later she picked up the pile of neatly folded shirts and trousers and took them into the bedroom. Calum was sprawled on the bed with a hand over his eyes and a carton of orange juice on the floor by the side of the bed.

  “Calum, I need to lay these clothes out on the bed so I can pack them without creasing them.”

  “Oh for god’s sake just shove them on the floor!”

  At that she exploded “You great lazy bugger, get off the fucking bed.”

  Sitting up in astonishment he said “Sophie! Don’t you swear at me.”

  “You need bloody swearing at. I’ve been up since six, rushing around to make sure you have clean clothes to go away with and you are lazing around nursing a self inflicted headache. The doors are arriving for the lounge today, Mick and his lads are working their guts out and you’ve done nothing.”

  “I’m slaving away in London so we can pay for this place. You’ve no idea how hard it’s been” he moaned.

  “I’m working just as hard. Once the kiln arrives I’ll be making my pots as well as supervising the cottage.”

  “Oh, a few pots, big deal. I’m the one who’ll be making the big money, don’t forget that.”

  Sophie felt as if she had been punched in the chest, all the years she’d kept them, working two or three jobs obviously counted for nothing in his eyes. Seeing from her face that he had gone too far he said “Come on Soph I’m sorry. I’m stressed out and not looking forward to being away.”

  Getting off the bed he took the clothes off her and dropped them on the floor, then he pulled her into his arms and fell backwards onto the bed. Flipping her over so she was underneath him, his hands holding both sides of her head he lowered his face to kiss her. His breath stank of stale beer, but she couldn’t move her mouth away as he kissed her hard, pushing his tongue firmly onto hers and running it to the back of her throat. Dragging her jeans off he palmed her sex then forced a finger into her cleft. Finding her dry he became rougher trying to arouse her, which he’d never had to do before, causing her to squeal.

  “Come on Soph, relax, you know you want me. I’m going away, this will have to last you a long time.”

  Struggling she grabbed his hand and pulled it away from her gasping “No more Calum. You’re hurting me and I won’t have it. Get off me.”

  Angry now he laughed “You know you like it rough and so do I.”

  Then he used all his strength to take her even though she begged him to stop, his own selfish ego not believing that she didn’t want him as she always had. Finally she stopped struggling and allowed him to use her, which he did without realising that she wasn’t responding to him. When his orgasm finally overcame him he had bruised her badly and she was lying there soundlessly crying.

  As he rolled off her he looked at her and said “Really Soph, I don’t know what’s the matter with you. I’m going to be away for months and all you’ve done since I came home is nag me. I might as well go today, you’re so cold towards me.”

  Then he got up and went into the shower leaving her lying there hurting all over. Seeing her carefully done ironing discarded on the floor she turned onto her side sobbing quietly. He came out of the shower tucking a shirt into his jeans “Come on Soph. There’s a train at two thirty. Pack my things, there’s a good girl. You know I’m hopeless at packing.”

  Hardly able to believe the way he was behaving she rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom. Between her legs ached and she felt dreadful, but she splashed water on her face and rubbed away the tears. By the time she got back into the bedroom Calum was outside the van talking on his phone. Quietly opening the window she heard him say “I’m on my way, see you later.”

  Throwing his things into his case she took it through the van and carried it outside. Calum turned to her and said “I’ve just called a taxi.” Then he walked up to her and taking her in his arms went on “I know it’s not fair on you, but you did know I’d be away while the cottage was being finished and you were the one who wanted something to do while I was away.”

  “Yes I knew you’d be away but I didn’t expect you to turn into a beast while you were here,” she was rigid in his arms.

  “A beast, for god’s sake Soph, you’ve always liked it when I
’ve been the caveman. It works you up like mad.”

  “Not when you hurt me.”

  “I didn’t hurt you, all I did was fuck you.”

  “Yes precisely, you fucked me, you didn’t make love to me.”Sophie cried.

  Calum let her go and running his fingers through his hair said “I can’t take this mood of your’s. Maybe I was a bit rough, the part I’m playing is quite an aggressive man. Perhaps it’s best for me to go, at least until I get my head around this film. I’ll come home when I can and make it up to you. Come on Soph, don’t let me go away thinking you don’t love me.”

  Sophie sighed “Perhaps your film and this place are a bit too much to deal with. Go act their socks off and we’ll be OK in the end. I do love you, you know that.”

  Pulling her back into his arms he held her close and said “I know we’ll be OK Soph, wait and see,” then he kissed her gently and held her to him. As usual she melted against him. A car pulled in and he gave her another quick peck and said “I’ll phone every evening, if I can. Take care love, don’t get any more overtired. You’ve worn yourself out you silly sausage.” And he climbed into the taxi and left, leaving her feeling that maybe it had been her fault and she had nagged him as he said she had.

  ***

  Weorgoranceaster (Worcester) 869 A.D.

  Eirik and his men drove the cattle they had stolen from the small farms and villages, along the river valley towards Weorgaranceaster. He was pleased with the way the raids had gone. Not only did he have a quantity of young beasts, but older cows heavy with milk. They would have plenty of meat and cheese to feed them over the winter, as well as leather for shoes and saddlery.

  One particular farm had been rich in plate and coin and his men’s spirits were high. The maids and praels who had survived the raids would bring more wealth when sold at auction, and Eirik was dreaming of the improvements he would make to his farm in the Danelaw near Jorvik. Maybe his wife would be pleased for once and stop nagging him. He had married her because of the farm which was her dowry, and she had given him two sons and a daughter, but he was happiest leaving her to run the farm and going Viking, fighting for his Jarl.

  Jarl Ubbe, son of Ragnar Lothbrok was a great leader and had led his men south from the Danelaw raiding deep into Mercia. Once again the stronghold at Weorgaranceaster was in Dane’s hands.

  Pulling his horse to one side Eirik watched as the Saxon thralls trudged past him, keeping their heads down for fear of angering the large warrior astride a magnificent black stallion. The slaves looked healthy and strong and should fetch a good price at auction. Some of the women had of course been raped by his men, it was part of a female slave’s job to warm a warrior’s bed but none had been bruised or wounded. Eirik kept a tight rein on his men, disapproving of unnecessary brutality to human or beast, for one thing it reduced their sale price and for another it weakened them.

  When all the slaves had trudged past he looked behind him and whistled. His giant hound Geri came out of the wood carrying a rabbit. Eirik smiled, the dog had anticipated that they would make camp soon and had provided his own supper. Catching up with the group of slaves he passed them and rode ahead looking for a place to make camp. Recognising where he was he waved his men into an open glade, sheltered on all sides by gently sloping hills, overlooking the river Teme. The hill up above them was where he had lit the funeral pyre of his pagan slave, and to his surprise he realised that he had missed her. Prettier and cleaner than the Saxons who lived around here he was finding her hard to replace. A quick hump with a lumpy smelly Saxon really held no appeal to him and he hadn’t touched any of the females he had captured. He really must do something about that situation.

  ***

  Sophie had sleep walked through the rest of Thursday, too scared to think about how Calum was drifting away from her. She tried to convince herself that it would be alright but deep inside a little knot of doubt had taken hold. Work was her answer to everything so she threw herself into preparing the barn for the kiln that was arriving the next day.

  The floor of the barn was concrete so the kiln could go straight onto it and one of Mick’s brickies had built a fire brick wall to surround three sides of it. Commandeering Ron again she got him to help her put metal shelves above where the kiln would stand, for drying her pots before she fired them. Then they put together the flat pack display shelving for the sales area and fixed them to the walls.

  By four thirty the barn was looking very smart, ready for her to unpack her tools and glazes and place them on the work benches. Ron pulled her wheel into the work area and said “Well love, you’re coming together well in here. Looks like a shop already, don’it.”

  “Yes it’s not bad, thanks for your help. I’d never have managed those shelves by myself.”

  “You’re welcome, better job than knocking through those old walls in the cottage,” he laughed, “well time to pack up for the day, I’ll just go and see Mick.”

  As he headed out of the door Sophie gazed around her with pleasure. It was just as she had imagined it. She decided to carry on working as she didn’t want to sit in the caravan by herself, worrying about Calum, and when Mick popped his head in the door half an hour later she was putting pots of paint on glaze at the back of one of the work benches.

  “Just off love. The cottage walls are knocked through, the supporting beams are in and the whole lot is watertight. The door fitters are just finishing off, so you might want to go and inspect their work. Looks good to me, but you’ll have to sign off on it. The rubble from the walls is out, just a bit of dust left and tomorrow we’ll put the archways in between the extensions and the old building.”

  “Thanks Mick, I can’t believe how quickly it’s happened.”

  “Mmm, it’s been a good build so far. Mind, that architect of your’s has made things very easy. Always said simple is best. See you tomorrow, don’t work all night.”

  “I won’t” she crossed her fingers “I’m just putting a few things out.”

  “OK bye.”

  He got into one of the vans and with cheery waves the men went off home. Sophie walked up the drive to the cottage and was thrilled at how it looked. The warm old bricks glowed in the evening sun and the open sliding doors to the lounge made it appear welcoming and friendly.

  Seeing the door fitters sweeping up she said “Wow, they look great.”

  “Yes they’ve gone in nicely. Everything measured up perfectly. Good builder that Mick”, the foreman said.

  “Yes, he’s the best. I understand I’ve got to sign something.”

  “Only if you’re completely satisfied. Have a good look and see how they work.”

  She inspected the doors, which slid open easily and closed perfectly. “Mick said it was a good job and he should know, but I can see that for myself.”

  “Good, glad you’re pleased, now here’s the keys for the locks. They lock from the inside so we’ll lock them and come out through the cottage door. It’s still a bit dusty in there but they’ve cleared up well.”

  They went into the lounge and locked the doors then Sophie signed his job sheet and they left by the old cottage door. When they were gone she wandered through the building amazed at how it had changed and dreaming about how she would furnish it. The delight in what was to be her home eased the pain inside her and for a while she forgot how Calum had been before he left.

  Going back down the drive she decided to go into the van and make herself a cup of tea. She hadn’t eaten since she’d had a croissant in the launderette but she couldn’t be bothered to make anything. Finding a packet of chocolate digestives in the cupboard she took them and a large mug of tea back into the barn. The van smelled of that awful aftershave Calum had started wearing and she didn’t want to stay in there. She left the door open in the hope that the smell would clear before she had to go to bed.

  By the
time she had sorted everything out to her satisfaction night had fallen, so taking one last look around at what was now definitely a potter’s studio she let herself out of the barn. It was a quiet balmy evening and she stood gazing up at the stars showing above the wood. The night was surprisingly quiet, no traffic passing along the road and none of the usual creaks and groans from the old trees. Breathing in the soothing smell of flowers and shrubs Sophie thought ‘heaven.’

  Then she heard it again, that deep male laugh and the whicker of a horse. That same strange frisson passed through her body and she shivered.

  “It’s just the neighbours and their horses over the hill” she said out loud trying to reassure herself. Then the sound was gone and quiet descended again.

  Letting herself into the van she locked the door and made herself a mug of cocoa. Then she remembered that she hadn’t eaten all day, apart from a few digestives, and decided to make herself a cheese toastie. Once it was ready she curled up on the sofa and switched on the TV, just in time for the tail end of the ten o’clock news. Her cocoa drunk and toastie eaten she suddenly felt exhausted and took herself off to bed, only to toss and turn all night as she dreamed of a deep laugh, ice blue eyes in a harshly handsome face, and a hard demanding body.

  Chapter 7

  She overslept the next morning and was woken up by Mick hammering on the door shouting “Sophie, are you there? It’s gone nine and your kiln’s turned up.”

  Staggering out of bed she grabbed her clothes and struggled into them. “Yes I’m here, give me a minute, I’ll be right out.”

  Dashing into the bathroom she had a pee, cleaned her teeth and splashed water over her face.

  When she rushed out of the van Mick was directing the removal of her kiln from the van into the barn. Grinning at her he said “Got a man in there?

  Sophie laughed “Chance’d be a fine thing. No I worked late and didn’t mean to, well anyway I overslept.”

  “Not surprised, the way you were rushing about yesterday.”