Chapter 13

Caroline was dripping wet and windswept. This was her morning in the cowshed. Feeding the cows and mucking out their quarters - a smelly but satisfying task. She had finished the milking and carried the pails of milk back into the house, lashed by the wind, the torrential autumnal rain coursing down her body, her hair plastered to her shoulders and strong young back. By the time she got indoors, she was bright red all over from the exertion and the impact of the heavy rainfall, which the gale-force wind had been driving in a horizontal assault on her naked body.

She joined Grace in the kitchen for their first meal of the day. The two of them sat and ate and drank in silence, listening to the tempest outside and watching the rain lashing at the windows. Finally, Grace spoke. “It feels so safe and secure in here, my darling! Don’t you feel so comforted to be in the shelter of the house and sitting here with me, with that going on out there?”

Caroline thought for a few moments and then replied,” Yes. It’s nice for a few minutes, but I want to be out there with you, Grace, the two of us braving that downpour together! Let’s go down to the wood as soon as we’ve eaten. Do you think we could for a ride later, or would the horses object?”

“They’ll be fine, Caroline, they’d like the exercise. Just as long as we dry them off thoroughly afterwards. Can’t have them catching pneumonia!”

Having cleaned up after breakfast and put Grace’s priceless crockery back in its place they made their way out of the house, watched glaringly by a disgusted and contemptuous Engelbart, who was angrily wondering when the first fire was going to be lit.

They had spent the night under the trees as usual and now that the leaves had all fallen, the water had dropped steadily down on them for the whole night. Caroline marveled at, and was ever more grateful for, that hard-won endurance which enabled her to sleep through such cold discomfort. Admittedly the warmth of Grace’s body had now long been restored to her and this had made all the difference. Once she was enfolded by those strong and tender arms, pressed against that beloved body, the world only consisted of the two of them and was a place of warmth and reassurance.

“How well did you know Granddad, Grace?” asked Caroline as the two stood under the old tree, half sheltered from the rain and totally sheltered from the wind.

“Very well, darling. As well as two humans can! But that was long ago. Even so, I knew when he died, that you needed me and he would have wanted me to do for you that I have done and am doing. The work and life of this farm was the thing nearest and dearest to his heart.”

It couldn’t have been that long ago, thought Caroline, looking at her young hostess. This girl was scarcely older than she! She kept this thought to herself, as well as wondering about another mystery. From where had Grace made the phone call? There was no phone in the house, as well as no radio or television. No newspapers were ever delivered. And yet this strange girl who never seemed to leave these premises had known of her grandfather’s death, waiting until the funeral obsequies were over before contacting her to invite her here.

She shook her head as if to dispel these thoughts and put her arms around her friend, trying to force Grace to the ground so that they could enjoy each other for the thousandth time. A willing and delighted Grace needed little or no forcing and soon they were both lying on the waterlogged moss, lost yet again in their own wonderful enchanted world.