Chapter 12

Diana was cooking supper. Hal was keeping her company. Nick was changing. Helen came into the kitchen, walked over to Diana and sniffed her.

"Mmm," she said. "Hal seems to have done a pretty good job."

Diana burst out laughing. Hal went puce. Straight faced Helen went over to him and sniffed him.

"So does Diana," she said.

"Mum!"

She ruffled his hair. "She washed your hair too. Very good!"

She stood back. "Was it fun?" she whispered.

Hal nodded still quite unable to speak.

"Good!" She kissed his forehead.

She went back to Diana who was wiping her eyes on her apron. "Good for you too?"

"Very!"

Helen hugged her. "So it should be, for both of you."

Later when Diana and Hal were alone in the sitting room Diana looked up at him, her eyes twinkling, "I told you your mum didn't miss much."

"I should have known."

She touched his cheek. "So we don't have to wait until Sheffield."

"No, I suppose not." He paused in thought. "Would you mind waiting until then though? It ... it just seems to be a bit more romantic, on our own and with a double bed."

"You're right again, my Hal. You really are a bit of a romantic yourself, aren't you?"

"I dunno. I just thought dress up a bit, have a special dinner and then all on our own to wake up in the morning and not have to go and look at sheep or even bloomin' pigs." He chuckled. "Mind you, knowing you, you might prefer to go and kiss bullocks' noses rather than mine."

"Hal!" she exclaimed her eyes dancing. "You know I've only got eyes for you."

"I was talking about lips on noses."

"Well, in that case, bullocks can wish. It's your lips that matter to me."

"Glad to hear it."

"And your eyes and your little nips and next time we have a shower..." She ran her hand over his crotch. "Which you seem to be looking forward to."

Despite her teasing Diana respected his wishes and the following morning looked up Sheffield on the internet. There were many hotels listed and they all cost a lot more money than Hal would want to spend. She did not think that, being the country boy he was, he would want to stay in the city itself. She found a B & B on the outskirts of a small town to the south in Derbyshire. The price was reasonable and they had king sized beds! That ought to keep him happy. There were also a number of pubs and restaurants at one of which the B & B had organised discounts.

She rang the proprietors asking for a bedroom on the Friday and Saturday nights. She reckoned that if Saturday was a failure Hal would really enjoy the Peak District on Saturday afternoon and indeed on Sunday which would help wipe away any disappointment. She was successful. She asked about the pub that they recommended and was promised a decent meal at a decent price. She booked. Hal was not fussy about food and the picture of one of the bedrooms would appeal to him, so would the one of the patio but she doubted they would be using that in early December.

The journey to the B & B was the longest time the two of them had so far spent together on their own, including Nick and Helen's holiday. They revelled in it learning ever more about each other in the process and gaining in respect as well as love and understanding.

Mr and Mrs Arkwright were a delight, warm, welcoming and friendly. He was in his mid-sixties, about Diana's height but sturdy. He helped carry their cases up to their room. She was scarcely more than five foot, round, motherly and, it seemed with a perpetually happy smile on her face.

"So, my dears," she asked, "have you made any plans?"

"Not really," replied Diana. "We've come so that Hal can meet my parents tomorrow. Their house is too small to put us up."

"Ah, are they local?"

"Sheffield and with Hal being a country lad I couldn't see him happy in a motel in the city."

"Very sensible so I expect you'll want to make the most of the Peak District while you're here. Do you know it, dear?"

"'Fraid not. I was a townie."

"Well in that case you need to talk to Frank. He's a volunteer with the rescue service now he's retired and knows it like the back of his hand."

"So," asked Frank, "Your fiancée says you're a country boy. What do you do?"

"Farming," replied Hal. "My dad owns one in Wiltshire and will be handing it on to me. We've been there for generations."

"There must be a story there."

"Yes." Hal gave him a brief account of the de Laix legacy.

Frank whistled. "That's quite a responsibility. What do you produce?"

"Sheep mostly, a few pigs largely for the farm shop, and we finish bullocks. We also grow a bit of corn and of course winter feed."

Frank nodded. "I was a butcher, wholesale with our own slaughter house. My son's running it now."

Hal smiled. "Watch out for Diana," he said. "She has a thing about bullocks."

Frank looked questioningly at him.

"She loves them. She says it's their eyes. She moves among them, talking to them, stroking them and they love her. They never jostle her or even nudge her. I've told her she's a natural. She's putting pressure on us to take on a follow-up herd when we've always had one winter in two free without winter feeding."

"What does your dad say?"

"He's a bit dubious about two successive winter feeds."

"I can understand that. And you?"

Hal grinned and held his lips shut.

Frank chuckled.

"Right then, lad. Got a map?"

"Only a road map."

"That'll do."

Hal collected it from the car. Frank gave him a pencil and then proceeded to give him a route south with stopping points for views, possible short walks and a couple of pubs.

In the meanwhile Mrs Arkwright, Sally, had taken Diana under her wing. She whisked her off to the kitchen putting on a kettle for tea. While that was boiling and then the tea mashing she produced a map of the town, marked the pub at which they would get discounts and a three more that she thought they might enjoy.

"The White Hart's a bit expensive," she warned, "but their steaks are smashing."

After tea Hal and Diana were left to fend for themselves. They went to their room and unpacked. Diana longed to wind herself round Hal but knew that his shyness could spoil things.