Chapter 25 A Winters Walk

It was a real wintry day; the clouds were low and the light grey. The air temperature was barely above freezing, and I was itching to get out for a walk. I opened the front door again and sniffed the air. No, it was too risky; the air felt moist, and I could smell that distinct scent that often precedes snowfall. I decided that I would stay in where it was warm.

I put the kettle on; it was time for a cup of tea. As the kettle was boiling, I took two digestive biscuits from my barrel; they were the best for dunking. I made my tea, took my biscuits and went and sat in the sitting room. The sky just looked grey through the window; I ignored it and started scrolling through reels on my iPad. The stupidity of some people just amazes me, but it has to be said, the reels are entertaining.

A few days ago, the electricity people had changed my meter to a smart meter, and they had left a small monitor for me to see what my consumption was. Apparently with nothing running I was consuming 151 watts. I assumed that was mostly the fridge freezer; I wasn’t going to worry about that. It was still cheaper than running my diesel generator.

I was thinking about getting one of those super-efficient gaseous wood furnaces to heat the house. The cost, though, was more than I could ever recover, but it would provide a comfortable heat background all the time. I couldn’t just dismiss it, especially as now winter was here; the cottage was just a little bit colder each day. ‘Spring is a long way away,’ the house said to me.

“I’ll just wear a sweater,” I told it.

My front door opened; I hadn’t heard a car approach, nor was I expecting anyone. The door slammed, and footsteps carried across my kitchen.

“Bloody hell, Mum, it is bloody cold out there,” my son Mik said.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Mik. I thought that you were seeing Connie.”

“Yes, well, sort of back burner.”

Trouble in paradise, again. They seemed more off than on.

“The kettle has just boiled; make yourself a tea and come and sit next to me. We can keep each other warm.” I guessed I wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight.

Mik disappeared into the kitchen, and the sounds of tea being made percolated through to me, and then he was back. He had taken his coat off and presumably hung it on one of the hooks by the back door or simply draped it over a kitchen chair, as was his usual way. He sat on the sofa next to me and squeezed my leg as he took a sip of his tea.

“Ouch, hot,” said the silly boy.

“Well, you did reboil the kettle,” I said. “Anyway, I didn’t hear you arrive; perhaps I was just lost in my own thoughts.”

“You usually have the front door open when you are in, but today it was shut; perhaps that was it. I mean, I didn’t drive any differently. I put my car in the barn next to yours. I will go and start the Land Rover later, just to make sure it is okay in case the weather turns.”

“Okay, but I don’t need to go anywhere; if the weather turns, I shall simply stay indoors, or rather, we can simply stay indoors.”

“I know that, Mum, but just in case, up here we are very isolated, and you never know. I would rather just know that it started okay and that it had fuel in it.”

I had bought one of those portable hundred-litre fuel tanks with their own built-in pump. It meant that I could keep fuel here at the cottage. It was stored in the barn, and I could use it for the generator or the Land Rover. To fill it, I simply put it in the back of the car on a pallet using my forks and the tractor, drove to a garage, filled it up, and then came back.

I supposed I could get proper off-road diesel, but that meant setting up an account, and I hoped I wouldn’t need enough diesel to make that a viable option. Mik knew about it; he would fill the Land Rover if required. I dunked my last biscuit and savoured the wet tea on my soggy digestive. Such a unique flavour combination; it only seemed to work with ordinary tea and not, for example, with my Lapsang tea — that just wasn’t right.

Dinner was jacket potato and baked beans. Simple but warming. Mik added brown sauce to his, as he always does. I simply had butter in my jacket and poured my beans over the top. As I was dishing up, I looked outside; snow was indeed falling, but it looked light. Perhaps just a dusting then. We sat at the table and ate our dinner, washing it down with mugs of tea; it was just too cold to drink wine or beer.

Back on the sofa, Mik suggested a game of cribbage. I declined; I don’t know how, but he always beat me, and it had stopped being fun. I didn’t think he cheated, and I wasn’t sure how he could anyway, but he just always beat me.

“So, what’s going on with Connie then, Mik?” I asked as we squashed together on the sofa, the snow falling in a steady but light fall outside.

“Oh, she doesn’t really know what she wants to do with her life. She doesn’t seem to want a career, nor does she want to be a stay-at-home mum. She got annoyed when I said I was just going to take each month as it comes and go wherever life took me. So, we kind of had a row. I suggested we had a break, and she straight away said yes.”

“Crumbs, Mik.”

“Yeah, well, I think she was spoiling for a fight, as she wanted to break up with me but didn’t know how to. I gave her the easy way out. I took her home and came up here. As far as I am concerned, the ball is in her court; she can make the next move.”

“Fair enough, baby; better to split now than later when you are more financially committed to each other.” It would be a disaster if they got married and had a child and then split; most of whatever Mik earned would end up going in child support, and I would end up doing the childcare or hardly ever seeing my grandchild. No, that would be bad news all around.