The Smallholder - Cover

The Smallholder

Copyright© 2016 by Always Raining

Chapter 11

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 11 - Joseph Ramsden, a smallholder, had come to terms with tragedy in his life and had settled to a calm existence, until Angela Furness arrived and brought a whole lot of trouble. This tale is set in the hills of the Peak District of Northern England. All characters are fictional and are not based on any real (or unreal) living or dead people! Warning as far as sex content is concerned it is VERY slow!

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Fiction   Slow  

It was Tuesday morning. Barry had left ten minutes before, and Joseph was on his way to carry out a little maintenance on the wind turbines when he heard more than one car on the track to his cottage. He sighed and retraced his steps to find two people in while coveralls accompanied by two policemen making their way to the farm buildings housing the animals and chickens.

He strode down as they entered the goats' enclosure.

"Hello?" he said, as he approached.

One of the policemen blocked his path, "Just wait there sir, if you don't mind."

"You can tell me what's going on?"

"The RSPCA are inspecting your livestock. There's been a complaint."

"Who's complained? There's been no one by here for weeks."

"Can't tell you that, Sir," the arm of the law told him, "Data Protection Act."

The two men waited as the white-coated man and woman went from place to place. Then they approached him.

"Mr Ramsden," the woman said, "Could we talk with you inside, please?"

"Certainly," said Joseph. "Would you like coffee?"

This was declined, but they went into the kitchen and sat at the table.

Joseph waited. The woman looked uncomfortable.

"Mr Ramsden," she said, "We have a problem."

"Is there something wrong with the livestock?" he asked with a worried frown.

"That's just it," said the man. "Everything is perfect. In fact I've seldom seen animals so well cared for. Do you have any enemies? This complaint seems to be malicious."

Joseph thought. "I've lived here for eight years," he said. "I hardly see anyone. I get on well with Barry Denton from Denton's farm; he sells my eggs and milk. I'm accredited by DEFRA. [Department for Environment Food and Rural Affairs] No, I can't think of anyone."

"There's a chance whoever it is has got the address wrong. We're sorry to have troubled you."

The constable stayed after the rest had moved off. He looked serious, "All the same, I noticed you have CCTV and flood lights. Are your buildings alarmed?"

"All the sheds and animal houses have wireless sensors on the doors," Joseph told him, "and the turbines and water screw are alarmed against metal thieves. There's CCTV and flood lighting there as well. Always set them; never had an alarm, except from a fox every now and again."

"I'd be extra careful in the next few weeks," the man of the law replied. "I think someone's got it in for you. You keep guns?"

"Rifle and Shotguns," Joseph said, "all licensed."

"Make sure you call us before going out using them on burglars, not after!" the lawman said smiling. "It'll take us some time to reach you, so if you've phoned and then have to use them, you'll probably get arrested, but you'll get off, no case to answer."

After they left, Joseph sat awhile in thought. Perhaps he should have the phone line connected. Who could want to make trouble? Nothing came to him, and he dismissed the whole thing as mistaken identity. However, he went to the study cupboard and activated the CCTV cameras and recorders and tested the PIR activated alarm for the chicken house, which he had installed when he had fox problems the previous year. Everything worked and he went off to maintain the turbines.

Life went back to normal for the rest of the week, except he booked British Telecom to have the phone connected. There was some discussion about replacing the line from the road, to allow him broadband. He was prepared to pay the considerable price of installation and a booking was made.

There were no more surprises and he wondered if he had overreacted. The only event out of the ordinary was the delivery of a new mattress for the bed upstairs. He decided he was not going to put up with the lumpy old thing that had been there when he moved in and had never been used. What he did next was to get all his normal weekend jobs done so the weekend would be free, apart from the basic care of the animals.

Friday 27 Feb 2009

By Friday, Joseph was on edge, but it was not from a threat to his life or property. It was the first time he had invited a visitor to stay and this visitor was Angela. It was a new experience for him, or at least an experience long since forgotten. That Friday morning, as he did all the usual chores, he felt the butterflies in his stomach anticipating Angela's arrival.

Even Barry noticed he was somewhat abstracted as they chatted about this and that over his tea and toast.

"Summat on yer mind?" he asked Joseph.

"I'm embarrassed to admit it, Barry," he replied. "Angela is coming for the weekend and I'm scared to death! It's been..."

"Years since you 'ad a visitor," Barry filled in for him. "Ay lad, tha'll be getting a pretty young lass all te theeself all weekend. Come on lad, she's reet stuck on thee, enjoy!"

"Of course you're right," said Joseph. "I just don't know what she wants, what she's expecting."

"She'll let ye know lad, don't worry about that, women know what they want, and they usually get it! Let her make t' runnin', go with the flow." Barry was looking forward to seeing this woman that Sam and Violet at the pub had said was 'a looker'.

Joseph laughed and felt better for the homespun advice. Barry left, chuckling over Joseph getting his hands on such a good looking lass, and being so worried.

Joseph then went shopping in the morning, and was happy with his purchases.

He went all over the cottage cleaning and polishing – not that there was much to polish. He put the best linen on the bed and cleared his stuff upstairs to the other bedroom, making that bed up for himself. He remembered how uncomfortable Angela was at him sleeping in his chair. He was glad he had thought to buy a new mattress for that bed. Who knew? Perhaps Angela might visit more often if she thought he would be comfortable on the new mattress.

He looked at this second bedroom with new eyes. It was in fact a very pleasant room and that day the sun shone through the window making its spartan appearance almost attractive!

He made the same critical assessment of the living room. Again it was spartan and plain, though he thought it had a rustic charm. He wondered how Angela saw it.

He realised what was happening to him and he laughed out loud. Bob gave him a puzzled look, and he realised that while he was usually happy in himself, he did not normally laugh out loud. It relaxed him, and it was becoming a habit. She was coming because she wanted to, that was all that mattered; what happened later would happen or not. It was not in his hands. He relaxed further.

Later that afternoon he assembled the ingredients for a Lasagne al Forno and also made a Tiramisu, which he hid in the fridge. He decided on a ham and pea soup for a starter, slices of melon to follow. He went to the cellar and found a robust Italian red for the main course, and a Sauternes for the Tiramisu. Then he prepared the Lasagne and put it in the oven to slow cook.

He laid a pristine white linen table cloth on the kitchen table and placed a vase of flowers in the centre. Then some more flowers in the living room, and still more in the bedroom. There were chocolates on the living room table out of Bob's reach. He smiled. He had made the right purchases.

At five he heard the car, and went to the door to meet her. He could feel his heart beating. As she got out of the car and pulled her cabin bag from the car along with a carrier bag, he suddenly felt quite shy. What had happened to him?

She turned, saw him and smiled, her face lighting up with pleasure, and he suddenly felt totally at ease. It was Angela. She came to him, and he stood back to allow her to enter. She put her bags down and turned to him.

"Welcome," he said, "Are you really staying the whole weekend?" This with a wicked grin.

"Oh yes, no distractions this time!" she said. Then, gazing up into his eyes, "Hello!"

She raised herself on tiptoe and with her hands on his shoulders she kissed his lips, and he kissed her back, holding her waist. Gentle. Peaceful. Relaxed. No hidden agenda.

Then, "You've been spring cleaning!" she said with a laugh. It was that musical laugh he loved so much. Bob arrived, tail wagging in greeting, and had to be petted before he would go back to the living room.

Joseph picked up her bags and took them to the downstairs bedroom, she following.

"Oh, no!" she said. "You're not giving up your bed this time. I'll sleep in the study."

"I've moved to the bedroom upstairs for the weekend, so you don't have to worry about me."

"But the bed, it's not very comfortable," she protested. "You told me that."

"It's comfortable enough," he parried. "Please let me do this for you."

She put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You're too good to me," she said.

"You're worth it," he said, but she was already distracted.

"Flowers!" she exclaimed. "Oh you shouldn't have!"

They moved to the kitchen. She preceded him and stopped short at the door. The kitchen table had that pristine white tablecloth, and was set for the meal with the flower display in the centre.

"Oh, Joseph!" she gasped. "Beautiful!"

"It'll be ready in three quarters of an hour," he said. "Just time to sort out the chickens. I already milked the goats."

"I'll come too," she said, tucking her arm in his, and smiling up at him. The evening was warm for winter and the snow, even where it had drifted deeply, was practically gone. Angela watched him as he worked and took note of what he did.

When they returned to the house, he offered her a gin and tonic as an aperitif, and they went to the living room where she again exclaimed at the flowers and the chocolates. He poured her her drink with ice and a slice of lime, and they sat before the fire, Bob once again coming to her for attention.

"Oh, Greta went to see Gerard," she said. "She went straight from here. I'd suspected Gerard was going to dump me, and she said there was a woman in residence – well, she was there anyway. Greta gave him the message. She told him you'd put the car under cover out of the snow, and told him to get his finger out and move it."

"How is he?"

"Do you really care?" she asked.

"We put a lot of effort into saving his skin, so yes, I care."

"Greta said he was back to his usual self, and seemed to be fine. Made some remarks about dumping my cheating arse and being well rid of me."

"He would say that," said Joseph, smiling at the thought. Angela nodded.

"From what I've heard," she added, "He's said nothing about being rescued. Apparently he had to abandon the car and got a chill walking to the road where he got a lift. I ask you!"

"Angela," he said quietly, "He puts on a confident front, but he seems quite insecure; he's very frightened of losing face. He has to succeed, to beat the opposition, that's how he deals with it. We can leave him be."

"I still can't understand how you can be so ... understanding!" she exploded.

Joseph laughed. "I told you, it's a long time ago, and I've let it go. And let's face it, indirectly he brought you to me! I'm not grumbling!"

He laughed again, and she coloured, and felt warmth spreading over her body.

"Come on," he said, "Let's eat."

"I feel I ought to dress for dinner," she said, "after all you've done to make it special for me."

"Well, as long as you're quick," he smiled. "I'll do the same."

She made to protest but he was already on the stairs and down again while she was still changing. She did not have time to vacillate. The little black dress and pearls would have to do. It was mid-thigh and showed enough cleavage to arouse interest. No time for adding make up, just a little touch up. Then she left the bedroom and went to the kitchen.

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