Chapter 3

Saturday 24 January 2009

As he always did, he awoke at five thirty, uncurled himself from the chair and showered, shaved and dressed. Then he went to the lounge and meditated for an hour. Next, he let Bob out of the cottage and went to feed the livestock, let the hens out of their house, collect the eggs and milk the goats. He returned with the milk churns and then the eggs, and awaited Barry, a local farmer who would collect them for his farm shop. Barry usually stayed for a cup of tea and some toast, but that morning he had an appointment in town and left immediately.

The day had dawned clear and frosty, and the sun was shining up the valley between the ridges, making the frost sparkle white on the fields, when Joseph brought in the logs for the day to the kitchen. Then he took her clothing and ironed it, and brought it to the bedroom. The door was open as he had requested, so he was able to enter without waking her. He put the clothes on the chair and brought it nearer the bed so that she would see in when she woke.

At nine, Angela walked into the kitchen. Joseph looked up from the book he was reading. She was wearing her own clothes. He could see that his impression of her charms was accurate. She was stunning.

"Good Morning, Joseph," she said with a wide smile and a slight limp.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Wonderful!" she enthused. "That bed is so comfortable!"

"How's your ankle?"

"Much, much better," she said with relief. "It hardly aches at all when I put weight on it."

"Don't overdo it," he warned.

"Don't worry I won't," she answered with a smile at his concern.

"Breakfast?" he asked. "There's porridge, or fruit, or something cooked – I have bacon, and eggs from my hens."

She opted for porridge, which he provided with a jar of his own strawberry jam. Then she asked for scrambled eggs. He cut two slices of bread to toast.

"These eggs are delicious! Where do you buy your bread?" she asked as she ate the eggs on toast, accompanied by a glass of milk.

"I make it," he said.

Of course you do, she thought, then out loud "You are a superb cook," she said, and he blushed at the compliment. "I wonder, would you take me round your farm? Show me everything?"

It was a flirtatious comment, but it passed him by and that surprised her.

"I'd love to," he said, "but it's not a farm really, just a small-holding."

She stood, and he led her out of the back door of the kitchen into a covered porch where she saw boots and waterproofs hanging. It reminded her.

"Joseph," she asked, "Did you iron my clothes?"

"There's no one else here," he answered with a smile. "I thought it necessary."

"Thank you so much," she said, "They really feel nice."

"Good," he said. "Now to the menagerie."

He gave her a coat from the pegs, then he took her round the farmyard, showing her the chicken run. "I need to move it soon, they've scratched most of the grubs out of this ground."

The pigs were inside their 'house'.

"A bit cold for them," he explained. "They're just about ready to go."

"You'll sell them?"

"They will go for slaughter," he said. "I'll get some of the meat – as much as I can deal with."

"Oh." She was quiet, as she looked at the two animals.

"They aren't pets, Angela," he said. "Every animal fits into the food chain. They've had a good life. They are happy animals. They roamed free in one of my fields in the summer and autumn. I took them to my wood to eat the acorns, which they love."

"Yes, I suppose so," she said. "I buy pork and bacon, but never think of the animal that had to die to give me the meat."

"It is part of my belief that I should respect the animals whose meat I eat. I waste nothing of them. I eat them with full consciousness of their life and death."

"I think I should as well," she offered, and he smiled at her. Again there was that frisson of excitement. She felt gratified that he approved of her, and wondered why it was important to her.

They went to the nanny goats.

"Barry comes for most of their milk," Joseph said. "He has a farm shop on his farm, and comes every day. I keep enough for my own use. He got a little less today!" and he laughed, "same with the eggs."

"Barry?" she asked.

"He's my local farmer. I suppose you could say we have a symbiotic relationship; we've also become real friends over the years – him and his wife and daughter."

He walked with her to the end of the yard. They walked close together. Joseph found himself wanting to take her hand, and she on her part held her hand ready, but neither made the move and both felt disappointed.

He showed her his fields.

"Those fields there, up to the slope of the ridge and that one up the side, Barry looks after. He grows grass for hay and silage, and he pastures sheep there. I get enough for my animals' needs, he gets the rest, and he sells my eggs and milk for me. Sort of barter system.

"This big field I've converted into a large kitchen garden. You see? It's divided into plots of various sizes. It's my vegetable area, root crops for me and the animals, brassicas, and beans as well, various other veg. Not much to see at this time of year.

"You see the trees in that walled area? It's an orchard and fruit garden. There are apple, pear, damson, plum and cherry trees. Round the edges I've got gooseberries, blackberries, raspberries and strawberry beds.

The greenhouses are near the barns, and the small field is where I pasture the goats, and have the chicken runs.

"You see that wood yonder in the distance? That's mine. It's where I get my wood for the winter. I plant new saplings for every tree I take. It's a working wood."

He took her round the other side of the barn, where there were two large greenhouses.

"I can sow early crops in these, one is heated and the other is cold. I'm growing tomatoes and peppers under heat and light, and there'll be cucumbers in the other in the summer. Barry sells the surplus in his shop.

"You do all this yourself?" she asked, surprised. "It must be a full time job."

"Yes, it is."

"But what do you do?"

"I grow things."

"But a job?"

"This is my main job."

"But–"

"Look over there to the left. What do you see?" He found himself fighting the impulse to turn her by the shoulders – to touch her.

"You have wind turbines?"

"Three." he said. "It's windy more often than not here. You remember the beck we walked along before we got to the house last night? An Archimedes Screw Generator. There's always water coming off the hills. I have enough for my own use, and sell to the national grid."

"I don't understand," she queried, "that must have cost a lot. How... ?"

He was quiet.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to pry."

"It's cold," he said. "Let's go back to the house and I'll make you some coffee. I have biscuits."

Then he grinned, "and then I'll tell you my story."

She loved his playful grin; it made her feel warm inside. She was grateful that they were going back inside, for her ankle was beginning to ache.

He had made the coffee, and they were sitting in the kitchen with steaming mugs and a plate of biscuits, when there was a knock at the front door.

"The man for the milk?" suggested Angela.

"No, he came before you were up. He comes in the back."

Joseph went to the door and opened it to a man he didn't know. The man was stocky with ginger hair and a moustache. He was smartly and quite expensively dressed, with a woollen overcoat and a silk scarf. The man glared at Joseph.

He did not introduce himself.

"You got Angela here? I want to see her."

Joseph raised an eyebrow. "And you may be?"

"Her brother. Now can I see her?"

Joseph stood back, and the man strode down the hallway to the kitchen. Joseph closed the front door and went into the living room and sat down, unwilling to intrude on a family matter, but he heard everything. Angela's brother was shouting at her, so it was impossible not to hear him, though Angela's replies were more muted.

"What the fuck are you doing, you stupid cow? Shacking up with some hillbilly. Gerry is very angry. Who is this drongo, anyway? You been seeing him on the side?"

There was a murmur from Angela, he caught the words 'saved me'.

"Saved you? From what? You were out for a walk for God's sake! You know this bloke don't you?"

More murmuring, and the words, 'saved my life'.

"I suppose he told you that! Saved your life? Conned you to get in your pants, more like."

Now Angela raised her voice. "Keith you have a petty little mind, and as usual you know nothing. I suppose Gerry told you I left him on the walk. Well he left me, the clouds came down and I couldn't see where I was going. He had the compass and map and he left me alone without my waterproofs! I turned my ankle over and couldn't walk. Get that through your stupid head! Joseph's dog found me and he carried me back here."

"And fucked you. I notice there's only one bedroom!"

"Keith, I won't even dignify that with an answer. You believe what you like in your dirty little mind. I'm very angry with Gerry. I could have died out there."

"Don't be ridiculous! People don't die of a twisted ankle."

"I was on the ground in a cold wet foggy cloud with a cold wind blowing through my cold wet clothes. It's January Keith, it gets cold at night. I was in the early stages of hypothermia when he found me. He said if his dog hadn't found me I would have died. Your bosom buddy Gerard left me for dead, Keith."