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The Smallholder Pt. 01

By: Alwaysraining



This is in three parts, posted on consecutive days. It's set in the hills of the Peak District of Northern England. All characters are fictional and are not based on any real living people. There is sex here and there, but it's not a stroke story. There is no actual sex in this part.

*****

ONE 

January 2009

The Golden Labrador stood behind the man who was seated cross-legged on the floor of his living room before a small altar in one corner, upon which a candle was burning. The dog, technically a 'yellow' labrador, stood quite patiently, quite still, with his lead in his mouth.

At length the man uncurled himself, blew out the candle and stood, his broad, toned six feet two inches towering over the animal. The dog gazed up at him in adoration and wagged his tail.

"All right Bob," he said, "let's go."

His voice was deep, mellow and quiet, as was his whole demeanour, as he glided from the room to the hallway. It was only a few steps. He put on his scarf, Barbour Jacket, his Beanie Hat and his gloves, and picking up his torch went out into the dark, foggy winter's evening. 

In fact, foggy is not an accurate description. In the hills of the Peak District of England, low cloud feels like fog, except for the wind and the fine rain battering the face. The man and the dog were used to that sort of weather. They were also used to the walk of a mile and three quarters to the village and its public house. 

The cottage was in a valley between two hills, or rather ridges, and as such was usually protected from the worst of the gales that blew often at those higher levels. It lay at the end of a mile long cart track. From the house, the track ran straight for half a mile or so, then bent sharply to the left and then just as sharply to the right as it skirted a field, before running into a wooded area. 

From the end of the wood it was a hundred metres to the minor road which led in one direction to the nearby town, and in the other, to the more local village and the pub. From the track's junction with the minor road it was a further three quarters of a mile to the village. 

Except in the very worst weather, man and dog would walk to the pub a few evenings each week. Apart from Barry, his farmer neighbour, who visited him early each morning, and Church on Sunday, it was his only contact with other people in general to chat and exchange news. 

Though he had a lead for the dog, he only used it when he arrived at the pub. The dog would run ahead, exploring and marking his route with a lift of the leg, returning often to the man. Once on the road the dog would walk carefully to heel, casting an occasional glance up at the face of his hero and leader of his pack (of two).

In the pub, Bob, with a wag of his tail, would be provided with a bowl of water, and would lie beneath or beside the man's seat by the fire, while he drank his beer and chatted with the landlord or his wife, and the other regular patrons before the walk home.

This evening however, as the man shut the cottage door, leaving it unlocked as always, the labrador stopped, sniffed the air, barked and took off at a gallop along the path in the opposite direction to the cart track they should have taken, disappearing into the pitch black of the foggy night.

The man sighed, and turned in the direction the dog had taken. His torch making little impression on the foggy rain which beat on his face, so he walked carefully on the uneven ground. 

He had walked about fifty metres up the valley alongside the stream on the short sodden tussocky grass, when he heard Bob's bark again. It came from the right, and he obediently left the water's side and trudged in that direction up the beginnings of the slope. Another bark and he knew he was going in the right direction.

After a further fifty metres up the slope, a shadowy tableau emerged out of the cloud, picked out by his torch. A woman was sitting on the wet ground and sitting beside her, licking her hand, was Bob.

"Good dog," he said, and fussed the animal who wagged his tail vigorously, panting with his tongue hanging out.

He shone the torch on the woman, careful to avoid her eyes. She was shivering continuously and he recognised the early stages of hypothermia. She had a thick fleece and jeans both of which where completely soaked with the rain.

Ignoring the wet seeping from the grass into the knees of his chinos he knelt by the woman.

"My name is Joseph," he said gently. "I live near here. What's the problem?"

"T-t-turned my ankle," she stuttered through her shivering. "C-c-cold!"

He squatted on his heels and shone the torch on her foot. She was wearing trainers, footwear totally unsuitable for the conditions. He touched her foot which seemed to be a little swollen and she winced.

"My cottage is nearby," he said, "but you'll not walk that far. I'll carry you. Can you hold the torch and shine it in front of us?"

"Y-y-yes!"

He stripped off his Barbour, putting it on her, then his beanie, and gloves. He shivered briefly as the cold hit him, then handed her the torch. Then he lifted her effortlessly and she put an arm around his neck, shining the torch with the other. He could feel her shivering. 

She was not heavy for him, long hours of manual work had made him strong, and they made their way back to the cottage, the wind now at his back, where he opened the latch with his elbow, the light from inside bursting out as he did so, so that they both blinked and squinted at the contrast. He carried her inside and placed her in an armchair by the log stove in the living room, moving the chair further away from the direct heat.

Bob followed them to the living room with a resigned air, tail down, having missed his walk, and lay down by the wood stove.

Between the humans no word had been spoken on the short journey back. His silence had a peaceful quality to it which she instinctively knew not to breach with unnecessary conversation. In any case she felt exhausted and immense relief, and felt it enough she had been carried to this warm place. She continued to shiver, her teeth chattering.

He knelt at her feet and untied her trainers, carefully removing them. He was gentle with her socks but she still moaned as he peeled the fabric from her injured foot. He glanced at her face and she smiled bravely at him. She was still shivering.

He left her there and returned shortly with a man's vest, teeshirt, briefs, shorts and thick socks, as well as two large towels. 

"Can you undress and dress yourself?" he asked. 

She nodded. He held his hands out to her, and she took them and stood, wincing as she inadvertently put weight on the injured limb. 

He took the Barbour, Beanie and gloves from her.

"I'll leave you now," he said. "Take all your clothes off, towel yourself down thoroughly and put on these things. They'll be a bit big for you and not very feminine, but they're dry and warm. Leave the sock off your injured foot. Call me when you're finished or if you need help. I'll make you a drink."

He turned and left her, shutting the door behind him. Bob looked up at the door, then put his head on his paws again.

She wondered why she felt no worry that he might have designs on her and why she felt so secure with him. 

She quickly stripped off her clothes, all of which were damp, even her bra and knickers. She towelled herself off and put on the oversized clothes. She immediately felt warmer and the shivering lessened.

She had time now to look around her, and take stock. Two armchairs, a circular dining table with four ladder-back chairs, a sideboard, and what looked like a small low altar in one corner, which seemed to feature some photographs in frames; she could not see clearly what else was upon it. 

The place was spartan but very clean and tidy, and she was surprised how much at home and how comfortable she felt there. She felt better for being dry and tentatively put weight on her injured foot. There was immediate pain and though it felt better than before, she thought better of trying to walk on it. She called him.

He arrived, a crepe bandage in one hand and a mug of steaming tea in the other. He gave her the mug.

"It's tea and it's very sweet," he said. "You need warmth and energy inside you. The sugar will warm you from the inside. You are on the edge of hypothermia. Even if you hate the tea you should drink it."

She obediently began to sip the tea, while he knelt at her feet and applied the bandage quite firmly. It hurt.

He bundled up her clothes and took them away. The dog got up and followed him, perhaps wondering if it was time for his walk. Joseph checked her clothing to see if he could tumble dry it, and then set it to be washed. He noted she had been wearing a camisole vest, a thick shirt, a sweater and a fleece. There were jeans and long socks, though her bra and knickers were thin and lacy.

Joseph poured some soup into an earthenware bowl and cut some home made wholemeal bread, then returned to the room with a steaming bowl and a plate of bread.

"Some soup to warm you," he said. The dog followed him into the room, and came to her for some loving. She fondled and patted him. She realised if the dog had not scented her, she could well have died. Fortunately the wind was from her to the cottage that night, blowing down the valley.

Joseph put the soup on the table and she hopped to it and sat down.

"You are not eating?" she asked.

"I ate earlier," he said. That was all.

Then he spoke again, "You had no waterproofs?"

"When we were climbing I got hot and gave him my cagoule. Then we had a row and he went off with it in his rucksack." 

Silence fell and she realised, looking round her, that there was no television or radio that she could see. There was no sound but the panting of the dog and the crackling of the logs in the stove.

She ate the soup, which was obviously made from vegetables and was delicious, and the bread more so, noticing that Joseph now moved her armchair nearer to the stove and was seated in the other armchair, and was reading from some sheaves of A4 paper.

She looked about her as she ate. She was nearer to the little altar and saw it contained a cross, a little statue of what seemed to be the Buddha, and the photographs. He was so obviously living alone that she wondered whose the photographs were, but she feared to break the silence which enveloped the place, so peaceful was it, nor did she feel comfortable looking too closely.

Angela Furness, for that was her name, was a city girl, living in a suburb of Manchester. She was twenty-five years old. She was Personal Assistant to the General Manager of a company that provided industrial cleaning materials and expertise, and was very good at her job, knowing nearly as much about the firm and its customers as her boss did.

Her flat could not have been more different from this house. It was plush, with central heating, thick fitted carpets and a king sized bed, leather sofa and a massive wall mounted Television. Either it or her radio was in constant use; the place was never quiet while she was at home. She had always thought she hated a silent flat, but now she wondered about this quiet man who seemed so much at ease with himself, and of so few words.

As she finished the soup, he was immediately by her side.

"More?" he asked.

"It was lovely," she said smiling up at him, "but with the wonderful bread, I'm feeling full and warm."

He smiled at this, and as she noticed his soft brown eyes looking down on her, she felt a tingle up and down her spine. She felt an urge to reach out and touch him, but felt unaccountably shy.

"You should be careful with that ankle for a few days. Have you got someone at home to look after you? Someone to come and pick you up; take you home?"

Her face hardened into an angry grimace.

"Not any more!" she retorted. "He left me behind. It was sunny when we started out this morning, then it got cloudy and you could see the clouds rolling in lower and lower. I got tired and the ground was rough. We had a row and he went off with my stuff in his rucksack. He shouted me to keep up. I said I couldn't and he said tough. He had the map and the compass. Then the fog came down and the rain started. I didn't know where I was going, and then I turned my ankle over."

Joseph did not comment, because there was nothing constructive he could say. What would be the point of saying she was ill-dressed for hiking in the Peaks in winter? She now knew that and she had a brush with death to prove it. A sturdy cagoule would have made a big difference; she would not have been so drenched by the rain, and as a result would have been warmer.

"What would you want to do now?" he asked. "If you want to be taken home, I could do that."

She spoke almost without thinking, "Could I stay here for the weekend? I mean if it's not too much trouble?"

She surprised herself with her boldness, but she felt totally safe with this quiet self-possessed man and his acceptance of her gave her confidence.

"Of course you can stay," he said, "but you may be bored. I haven't got a television. There is one wind-up radio if you would like it. There are books in the study. As I said, I have no phone and I'm afraid your mobile won't work; there's no signal between these two ridges, but you are welcome to my home. Is there anyone you need to tell where you are?"

"My parents don't know, but they wouldn't anyway: I only phone them now and again. Gerry is the only person who knows where he left me, but he did leave me out here. I don't really fancy telling him."

"If you put a text message on your phone, I will take it to a spot where I can send it."

"Let him worry." She was venomous.

"He might call out mountain rescue," Joseph offered. He left the implications for her to work out, "or you could tell some of your friends so they can let him know you're safe."

She thought and then took out her phone. Her fingers flashed over the keys, and then she gave the instrument to Joseph.

"I won't be long," he said, "Bob needs a walk. Explore the house if you wish, but hop, don't put too much weight on that ankle. May I know your name?"

She put a hand to her mouth in embarrassment, "How rude of me!" she exclaimed, "I'm Angela Furness."

"Well, Angela," he smiled, "you've not been in the best condition to remember such niceties!" and he laughed. It was a deep and musical noise and she loved it, laughing in her turn.

He put on his second coat, his Barbour being slightly wet inside as well as out, and Bob caught on immediately and with tail wagging furiously, brought the lead. The pair went as far as the road. The cloud had lifted and the moon shone down. When he saw he had a signal, he sent the text without reading it. 

He took out his own phone and called the mountain rescue.

"Brendan, it's Joseph. If there's a call out for Angela Furness, she's with me. I found her, or rather Bob did. She was cold and wet and it could have been worse, but she's ok."

"Not the first one Bob's found, eh? Ok, thanks Joseph."

Then man and dog turned back for home.

---- 

TWO

Angela sat for a moment looking round the living room. Her gaze fall upon the little altar in the corner and after a moment's indecision, she hopped over to it, and knelt with some difficulty to look more closely. The little statue by the cross was indeed of the Buddha sitting in meditation. 

The picture at the front to the left was of a really beautiful young woman and a pretty little child of perhaps three years old. The woman looked to be in her mid-twenties and was smiling happily. Behind it was a photo of a older couple, and she thought she could see a resemblance to Joseph. These two were smiling and seemed to be in love, though if pushed she could not have explained why she thought that. On the other side was a silhouette of a man. She wondered why there was no photo of him.

To the front, on the pristine white cloth, was a thick white candle on a saucer and on the floor to the right, a box of matches. Then she saw something else. Behind the candle lying one on top of the other, were two rings. They looked like wedding rings, and she wondered if they belonged to the older couple or someone else, perhaps the woman.

She looked at the array for a long time, before the ache in her ankle forced her to clamber clumsily to her feet, wincing at the pain as she put the injured foot down for a moment.

She felt curious, very curious. Joseph had said she could look round after all. So she hopped to the door and out into the hallway. 

The hallway floor was of stone flags as was the living room. There was a coat stand, a carved oak settle which probably contained boots and gloves and the like under the seat, a tall grandfather clock methodically ticking away the seconds. It was the only clock in the house, she was to find out later. She did not remember it chiming.

There was a door opposite the living room, and this she opened, switching on the light. It was a study. What walls she could see were white and one wall had tall bookshelves from end to end on which were books on all sorts of topics, as well as the classic English authors. There was a large reclining armchair, with an integral footstool, which looked really comfortable, and at the window, which had the same thick curtains as in the living room, there was a large desk upon which was a laptop and a printer, and the usual array of writing materials, tidily arranged. An office chair was pulled up to it. The room was warm though the wood stove in the fireplace was not lit, and she noticed a large radiator on the wall behind the door, where there was also a large cupboard. She did not open it. 

She switched off the light, left the room and turned down the hallway towards the back of the house, passing a staircase to an upper floor, which in her present state she did not want to climb. At the end of the hallway was a door facing her which looked newer than the others, though in the same style, and this she opened and stood amazed.

It was the kitchen. The room ran the whole width of the cottage and was clearly an add-on. It was huge and almost square. There was a large multi-fuel range cooker and oven; there were fitted cupboards and drawers all round, a washing machine and tumble drier, dishwasher, huge fridge, a chest freezer and a double sink under the large window. With all this, there was still room for a large oak kitchen table and six chairs with plenty of space all around.

Two long racks hung from the ceiling, one with herbs hanging from it, and the other with some clothes. Hers were in the tumble drier which had finished its work. 

The room surprised her because it was in stark contrast with the rest of the cottage. She did not go in, but moved on to the room between the kitchen and the living room. 

It was a bedroom. 

Like the living room and hallway, the room was plain. No pictures on the walls, and all the walls painted flat white. The floor was of stone flags which like the study and the living room had a carpet square that that been cut from a bigger carpet. The king-size bed and bedroom furniture were simple and practical. Why Joseph would want a king-size bed crossed her mind; it seemed at odds with the rest of the furniture. There was a plain dressing table, a matching wardrobe and a wooden round-backed armchair. In one corner was a dog basket which was clearly Bob's bed. From the dressing table she learned it must be Joseph's bedroom. The bed she was sitting on must be Joseph's; she wondered if there was another bedroom up the stairs. The room was warm and there again was a large radiator.

She closed the door and hopped to the room opposite the bedroom. This was the bathroom and again she was surprised. The room was as large as the living room or the bedroom, with white tiles from floor to ceiling and with black glossy tiles on the floor. There was a large bath, large enough for two or even three, she thought with a grin, a toilet and bidet, and double wash bowls. There was a wet area the length of one wall with a shower. She used the toilet and washed her hands, turning out the lights and returning to the living room. On the way she saw a door between the living room and the bedroom, and opened it to see a narrow passageway leading to what seemed to be a large storeroom. She went no further but returned to the living room.


The Smallholder Pt. 01



She contemplated the house and its patchy luxury. There was a king-size bed, the huge kitchen with its expensive fittings, and that palace of hygiene which was the bathroom. Why? He seemed a man with little resources if one looked at the rest of the house. She mentally shrugged, perhaps she would find some answers when he returned.

The exertion of hopping on one leg everywhere, coupled with the pain when she forgot and put her foot down, and her previous frightening experience in the fog and rain, all this had tired her out. Once in her chair by the fire in the heat of the living room she felt drowsy and was asleep when man and dog came through the living room door, the noise of which awoke her.

He came to her and knelt before her.

"Let's see that ankle," he said. 

He lifted her leg and gently placed her foot on his knee to examine it. As he untied the bandage, the baggy shorts he had given her slid up her leg and exposed the gentle curve of the underside of her thigh almost to her groin. 

That is more leg than I've seen since... the thought surprised him. 

It did not arouse him. He felt admiration and pleasure at the beauty of her exposed firm and shapely flesh, but no arousal. However it provoked an appraisal of the woman who had come into his life so suddenly. Her hair was light brown now it had dried, her face was pretty and delicate. He noticed her green eyes, pixie-like little turned up nose and wide mouth. Though she was shapeless under his oversize tee-shirt, he knew she was slim from carrying her home. It did not cross his mind to wonder what size her breasts might be and he had not examined her bra when he put it in the wash.

This appraisal took a fraction of a second and was not really conscious. He felt happy at having her company; it was a real gift and he was grateful. He carefully felt her ankle.

"Not too bad," he said. "Not sprained, just bruised from going over on it. It may be all right by morning."

She for her part saw his glance up her leg and it gave her a frisson of desire. She also saw his eyes catch hers as they briefly took in her face and body. That gave her another tingle of pleasure. He seemed to like what he saw. Was that a hint of a smile? What was she doing, she berated herself. 

She for her part had already made an inventory of this tall strong man, his craggy handsome face, still tanned from the summer and outdoor life, and broad shoulders, narrow hips and long legs. His hands were large and quite calloused, and she wondered what his job was. He seemed too intelligent to be a mere farm worker. Somehow at that moment she felt shy of questioning him; perhaps tomorrow.

He re-strapped the ankle and carefully pulled the sock over the bandage. He sat back on his haunches, looking up at her. Yes, she was pretty. Good to look at.

"You will sleep in my bed. I will take the recliner in the study; it is very comfortable, and I rise early and use that room. Do you mind the dog in your room?"

"Oh no," she said, "he saved my life."

"He may wake you early, thinking you want to be up when I am. Send him away and go back to sleep."

"You like rising early?"

"I have to feed the livestock, and then I like to do some writing."

"You have animals?"

"Two pigs, two nanny goats and chickens. I have to milk the goats. You like goats' milk?"

"I don't think I've tried it," she said, "but I like milk."

He rose and disappeared, returning with a glass of milk. 

"Don't say you like it if you don't," he smiled, "I can easily get cows' milk."

She took a drink. It was creamy, but while it seemed sweeter than cows milk (she usually drank semi-skimmed milk) it also had a clean aftertaste, slightly salty.

"It's really nice. Creamy and clean tasting," she said, "I like it."

"Good," he said. "There's a jug of it in the big fridge in the kitchen. Help yourself. Did you take a tour of the house?"

"The ground floor only," she said. "I love the kitchen and bathroom."

"It would not hurt you to take a bath before you retire, there's plenty of hot water. If you have difficulty with the bandage, come to the study and I'll tie it for you. I'll get you some dry towels."

"Joseph," she said urgently, "how bad was I out there this evening?"

"In another half hour you would have stopped shivering, then you would have drifted into a sleep, and later you would have died."

She gasped and shivered, this time in shock. 

"I owe you my life," she said.

"More Bob's doing," he said. "I wouldn't have known you were there."

He left again and returned with towels for her and blankets for him. 

"I need to retire early," he said. "You can stay up longer if you wish. Take a bath. I remade the bed for you."

"Thank you," she said, almost shyly. "I'll turn in as well. It's been a hard day for me."

"Don't feel you need to get up early. Lie in and keep the weight off your foot. Leave the door open," he added, "Bob sometimes wants a drink in the night. He has a bowl in the hall."

She got up and picked up the towels. 

"Will you help me?" she said with a mischievous smile.

He smiled knowingly in return and dropped the blankets, picking her up as he had done on the hillside, as if she weighed nothing at all. She noted it was no effort for him; he was so strong. She felt an erotic tingle at his strength and closeness.

"Bath or bed?" he asked. 

"Bath!" she said. 

He carried her to the bathroom, and gently put her down so she could sit on the bath's edge. He ran the bath and undid the bandage he had just tied. Again there was the view of her shapely thighs and calves. Then he left her, closing the door behind him.

It took some time for the huge bath to fill, but the bathroom was already warm, and she stripped off the clothes she had been given. When there was enough water to cover her, she carefully got in and lay back. She noticed there were toiletries in the bath side, all masculine, but she didn't care. 

As she lay there, she could hear him putting the cottage to bed, turning off lights. 

Her foot felt a good deal better when she got out of the bath, and she towelled herself dry, tying the larger towel round her. She sat on the bidet to re-strap the ankle, which she managed for herself. Then she emptied and wiped the bath, hung the other towels on the towel rail, and limped across the hallway to the bedroom. He had left the hallway light on for her, and she switched it off on her way.

Shedding the towel she crept naked under the duvet, and soon felt warm. She switched off the bedside lamp Joseph had left for her, and settled into the bed, which was very comfortable. Somehow she had expected the mattress to be hard. She was half asleep when she heard Bob's feet padding across the floor to his bed. She smiled happily as she fell into a deep sleep.

Joseph left Angela in the bathroom and, after stocking up the central heating stove and closing the dampers, he put the rest of the house to bed, then went to the study to review his writing. It was a fruitless exercise: he had decided to re-read the previous two chapters, but he couldn't concentrate. It was the girl.

How many years since I moved in here? Must be eight, he thought, and she's the first woman - no, first person to stay the night in my bed. He grinned at the idea, since he would not be sharing it.

Now he had had visitors. He had joined Mountain Rescue and they would bring less injured casualties to the cottage to await transport to hospital. If the injuries were slight, the person rescued would await collection with him, allowing the other men and women to go home to their families. No one had ever stayed the night. There again, he had never rescued anyone by himself.

Was it her stay that had unsettled him? She was a very pretty woman, very attractive. She had come into his life, and she would soon go from it. He knew that was the way of things. He would enjoy her presence while she stayed, and he hoped she would enjoy the experience of his way of life. Everything changes; nothing stays the same, he thought. Let it go.

Then he had a picture of her leg on his, her thigh on display, and for the first time there was a stirring down below. He was disturbed by it. It had been some years since he thought he had mastered his passions. He remembered the teaching. Life is an illusion, desire doubly so. Desire leads to suffering. Extinguish desire and escape suffering. 

Did he desire the woman? At first he refuted the the idea. No he didn't. Then he realised he was deceiving himself. The woman was attractive sexually, and he was attracted. Before she put on his baggy clothing, he could see in his mind's eye that she was slim with medium breasts and a neat rounded bottom. He would repulse that emotion, he thought, it would only lead to more suffering.

He hardly saw any women in his life: there was Violet at the pub; she was in her fifties and married to Sam the landlord. The women who came to the pub were with men; they were married or were partners. None were as young and pretty as Angela was, so it was not surprising if she unsettled him. He repeated to himself that she would soon be gone, and life would return to normal.

He sighed, realising he had spent the best part of an hour thinking about this. He left the room and collected the blankets, before returning to sleep in the reclining chair. He had slept there often and found it comfortable. He lay back and was asleep in seconds.

---- 

THREE

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 it 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 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. 

"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. "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 right. 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, and you remember the stream 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 some 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 the 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. 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 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."

"And I suppose he told you that as well. What does he know? Is he a doctor? He saw you as a good fuck and you liked the look of him - big strong macho man - so you cheated on Gerry and you've made up this stupid story to cover your tracks!"

"Believe what you like, Keith. I don't care. And I don't care that precious Gerard is angry. I'm angry! So leave it out!"

"You are a stupid bitch! How d'you think we knew where you were? Your text didn't tell us. We had to get it from mountain rescue! They told us you were safe and well and where you were. So don't give me that hypothermia and broken ankle guff."

"It was a twisted ankle, and Joseph treated it. He's been very good, and a perfect gentleman. I can't believe you think we've been lovers. Knew one another before? How the hell could I have known him before? You have a filthy mind, Keith!"

"Anyway, Gerry asked me to come and pick you up, so get your things together and let's go."

The was a pause and the scraping of a chair. Angela came through the living room door, and Keith stood in the doorway.




The Smallholder Pt. 01



"I'm sorry to mess you about Joseph," she said, "but since Keith is here, I might as well go home with him. Save you the trouble."

"Fine," said Joseph.

"I'll just collect my things then."

"Ok."

She left the room. Keith stood in the doorway.

"Sorry to mess up your plans for the little lady," he gloated, "you'll have to find another stupid woman to fall for your lines."

Joseph said nothing; there was no point in getting into an argument with someone whose mind was made up. The man seemed unhappy at his core. Joseph pitied him.

Further interaction was impossible since Angela returned, dressed in her fleece. Joseph stood, and she came to him.

"Good bye," she said. "Thank you for all you've done for me, I owe you my life. You've given me a lot to think about." 

The she went on tiptoe and kissed his lips gently. 

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

Keith snorted derisively, but the two ignored him. 

She turned and pushed Keith ahead of her along the hallway. Joseph followed and watched as they got into the car and drove away, Angela waving as they went. Joseph raised a hand and then turned back into the house.

He became conscious of Bob by his side. Was it his imagination of did the dog seem sad that Angela had gone? For himself he felt resigned to it, though he had to admit to himself that he would have liked her company for another day and night. He shrugged. That was how life was, other people came into your life and then left it. He knew that well enough, he thought wryly. All things must pass.

There was work to do, and before long he was immersed in what he did all the time, looking after his small-holding and his livestock, and of course his writing. That Saturday evening he went to the pub, and was quizzed as to his absence the night before. He told the story and endured some ribald responses from the other patrons. The next morning he walked with Bob to Sunday Service at the chapel in the village, served from the nearby town.

The deep rhythms of his life re-asserted themselves and submerged him: meditation, hard manual labour and writing. Once again he felt at peace and balanced in his solitude, only Bob for company except for the evenings at the pub. There he kept up with the news and discussed life's issues with the other patrons. On occasion folk would ask his advice; they called him 'Buddhist Joe' behind his back, never to his face! His opinion was prized.

Saturday 31 January 2009

So it came as a great surprise that the following Saturday morning as he worked in one of his fields pulling some parsnips for his evening meal, he saw a small car negotiating the uneven cart track that led to his cottage. He straightened up and walked slowly back to the cottage to greet the visitor.

He had entered the cottage at the back when the car stopped and the occupant walked to the front door. He opened it to find Angela on the threshold. Before he could speak she launched a torrent of agitated words.

"Joseph, I'm sorry, I just had to come back. Silly of me. Bad idea. Do you mind? Shall I go?" and she turned to leave the doorstep.

"Angela," he said, "come in. Is there something wrong? Come through to the living room and have a seat."

She followed him into the familiar room, and sat in one of the arm chairs, Joseph taking the other one. She was a picture of tension and worry, sitting forward on the chair twisting her hands in her lap. 

He noticed she was wearing a heavy coat which covered her to her knees and thick tights finished off with ankle boots. It caused an inward smile in him. She would not catch hypothermia in that outfit! He waited.

There was a long silence, and she looked more and more uncomfortable, her eyes searching his face, begging for help.

"Angela," he said gently, "give me your coat." 

She did so and he went and hung it up. Then he returned, sat down and fixed her with a gentle look. 

"Now, what's the matter? Relax, I'm happy you've come back to visit me. You don't need a reason to come, you know."

She looked relieved.

"I don't know how to put this," she said, "I've had a hell of a week, and needed to escape."

She stopped, gazed at him and he smiled. She felt that tingle again.

"Tell me about it," he said, so calm, so relaxed.

"It's so good being here," she said, "I feel better already, just being here with you. You're so calm and peaceful."

"I'm glad," he said, "you'll always be welcome you know."

"I saw the notice you put at the gate," she said and laughed, " 'Private Land. Trespassers Welcome! Please Keep to the path.' You mean it too, don't you?"

He nodded. Noticing she had changed the subject. He waited, and she realised he had seen through her ploy.

"Life with Gerry has been horrible this week," she said, her tension returning. "He won't believe what happened. He says I'm lying. He thinks we knew one another before he came along and we are having an affaire. He says I had the argument and fell back so I could come here after he had gone. He laughed at the idea that I nearly died. He looks at me with revulsion and we're sleeping apart. He keeps on making snide remarks about me being a slut and a whore."

"But he's still with you?" Joseph asked. "Is it his flat or yours?"

"His. He begged me to move in with him. We were sleeping in his flat most of the time in any case. He wanted me there all the time, so I did as he asked. I don't think he knows I've kept my flat on, but I don't live there any more."

"You've been together long?"

"We met a year ago, I moved in three months ago. He's very jealous. He picked me up from work one afternoon and I was talking with a colleague while I waited for him. He hit the roof. We had a major row. He accused me of flirting with colleagues, and wanting an affaire. Fat chance at my offices! Life was hell for about a week, eventually he could not keep away from me and came back into bed. Things settled down, but this is worse. He's sure we're having an affaire and nothing I can say can change his mind. 

"During the week we were both out at work, but I couldn't face a weekend with him."

She stopped, and flopped back into the chair. He sat a while in thought. Then he got up.

"Tea?" he asked and she nodded.

He returned at length with two mugs. They sat in silence sipping the hot liquid. Then he spoke.

"You are very pretty," Joseph said, and she blushed wondering where he was going with that. She knew it wasn't flattery; from him it was a statement of fact.

"What I mean is, for that reason he is insecure. I think deep down he believes he is not enough for you, and that you will go off with someone else. I'll bet he was quite insistent about you moving in with him?"

"Well, yes, he kept urging me to give up my flat."

"He would be worried what you might get up to when apart. He's a worried man."

"He's no need to," she said, "I've never looked at another man while I've been with him. When he's not so jealous he's lovely, but he's in a real rage this time, he's even told our friends that I've been cheating. Some of them aren't talking to me. I don't know what to do."

Joseph looked at her, and saw the tears welling in her eyes. What could he say? He remembered a time past when he felt as Gerard felt. He knew Gerard was unlikely to be able to change.

"What is your feeling about what you might do?"

"I don't think anything I do will make him change. I feel sad he can't trust me. I hate it that he makes me out a liar."

"The only person to make him change is himself," said Joseph, recalling another memory.

A tear trickled down her cheek. "You're right of course. I don't think I can go on anymore. I think it's the end for us. I feel a real failure."

"What have you done that's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing!" she replied, startled.

"Than you are not a failure and probably neither is he," Joseph went on. "It's more a mismatch. It happens." 

Again a memory.

She nodded, but looked sad. Her gaze ran round the room and fell on the altar.

"I noticed your little altar," she said, "the photographs?"

"There is a long story attached to the people you will have seen there."

"Would you tell me?"

Joseph looked at Angela. Perhaps she would benefit from his story.

---- 

FOUR

Joseph began his tale.

"I'm the only child of two only children. I have no cousins, no uncles or aunts. There are some more distant relatives, but I hardly know them. The older couple in the photo are my parents.

"I did an engineering degree and then went to work for my father in his company. It made highly accurately machined components for all sort of household appliances, car engines, even some aircraft parts. We were very successful and life was good.

"I had met Susan in my last year at university She was two years older than I was, and we married two years after I started work. I was so happy. We bought a small house, and a year later Sonia was born. That's Susan and Sonia in the other photo. Life was wonderful for the next two years.

"Then my father was in an accident at work. He was pig-headed and didn't take enough care. I watched the machine pull him in and mangle his arms and head. He survived for two days in a coma and died.

"My mother went to pieces; she was a wreck, and she didn't get any better. They were deeply in love all their lives together. I was all she had and so I had to look after her while running the factory. I neglected Susan and Sonia I know. I thought Susan understood, for she never complained.

"Mum lasted six months and then she took her own life with an overdose. Her suicide note blamed me for my father's death. 

"Now I went to pieces. So soon after coping with running the factory solo I had to sort out the after-effects of her death - coroner's inquest, funeral, selling their large and rambling house and furniture.

"I was going through hell, and I thought I had Susan's support. We made love, I played with Sonia when I could. It was all too much for me, and I had no family and no one to share the grief and work with. Susan and Sonia were my only support.

"One evening during the following year when I got home, she had gone and taken Sonia with her. She had found someone else. I later found out he had found her and worked hard to wean her off me. He had money and time, and while I had plenty of money, time was something I did not have at all then.

"His name was Trevor. He was an executive in a large consulting firm, very competitive. I learned that from a friend who knew of him. Everything about Trevor was big, I was told, and he was arrogant with it. I was to find that out for myself.

"I was desolate. She made no contact, and I got the divorce petition after a week. No explanation; no discussion. The reason for the marriage breakdown was my unreasonable conduct in spending all my time on the business. I got a good friend who was a lawyer to handle things.

"He advised me not to fight it but to return the acknowledgement 'no contest'. He pointed out that I would lose a great deal of money fighting the divorce, and even then I would lose. 

"There was money wrangling, which my friend took care of, refusing to give her the house, since she had moved out and was living with Trevor, disputing the amount of spousal support for the same reason, but agreeing to child maintenance. She wanted half my wealth and half the business, that was disputed also.

"Then I got a visit from Susan. She arrived in his car, though he stayed in it while she came to the house.

"She was not sorry: it was all my fault. She told me Trevor was more of a man than I was, he was forceful, dominant, a go-getter. She found his control over what she did exciting. I had been a wimp, doing everything she wanted; he did what he wanted and told her what to do. A real man.

"Trevor thought that she should get half the business. Of course he would take control and run it, since I had no experience of the cut and trust of business life. I would have my shares and be paid a salary. Angela, I could not believe what I was hearing. 

"I simply said no. It flummoxed her. What did I mean, no? What I said. The company was mine, had been in the family for three generations and was successful. She told me Trevor said it was failing. I told her he was a liar. She got angry.

"She calmed down and came to the next demand. Trevor thought that Sonia should have his name once they got married, and that I should fade out of her life. It would be better for her to have one father figure. If I agreed, he would drop his demand for half the company! I leave you to work out what he was after."

"He wanted to win; to take all your dignity, deprive you of your little girl."

Joseph nodded.

"Again I said no. Susan said Trevor told her if I didn't agree I'd be sorry. He had powerful friends and high powered lawyers. They would take it from me and more. I laughed at her.

"She left, saying I'd had my chance. Well, the dispute over money dragged on, but the divorce continued, and a few weeks later, I received the Decree Nisi. You know what that means?"

"The divorce is not final, it's the court saying it can go ahead?"

Again Joseph nodded. He paused in his tale, and went to get more tea. When he returned, Angela was eager to hear more.

"Well?" she said. "What happened? Did you win in the end?"

"No," he said bleakly.

"He won?"

"No, he killed them."

"Pardon?" she was shocked; it was so sudden and stark.

"He apparently insisted on a big party to celebrate the divorce, or at least the first step. It was at an expensive restaurant with her family and he invited me. I didn't go."

She laughed at the idea. Joseph smiled and continued.

"He got drunk at the party but insisted on driving Susan and Sonia home, Susan was heard asking him to allow her to drive, but no, Mr Macho had to drive. He went off the road at speed and hit a tree. Susan and Sonia were killed outright; the left side of the car was flattened against the tree. He was slightly injured, and survived."

"Oh, Joseph," she whispered compassionately, "how dreadful!"

"The first I heard about it was when Roberta, or Bobby as everyone called her, Susan's sister came knocking on my door. She was in tears as she broke the news. Then, a week later, she was back. She was very timid and frightened of my reaction. Trevor had refused to pay for the funeral - he said he was not married to Susan, and didn't see why he should pay. Bobby was sent by Susan's family to ask me if I would pay since they hadn't got much money."

Joseph laughed at the recollection. "Bobby was terrified; she actually cowered once she got it out!"

"And?"

"Susan was still my wife - the divorce wasn't absolute - and little innocent Sonia was my daughter. Of course I gave them a good funeral. They were buried together. I went to the service and the burial, though the family organised it. I carried Sonia in her little coffin. You might remember it because of Sonia: it made the local TV news."

"No, I don't remember," she said.

"Trevor did not attend, nor did he send a card or any flowers, or make a donation to the charity the family had chosen. I think he was afraid of the reaction if he had; it would have been humiliating for him, and I don't think he could face that.

"He was given a breath test at the scene, and in the hospital. He was three times over the limit. He was convicted of causing death by dangerous driving. He lost his license for three years and was heavily fined and narrowly escaped prison; his prison sentence was suspended. He disappeared from the scene quite rapidly.

"That was ten years ago and the memory is still fresh. I lost both parents, and my wife and child, knowing my wife had rejected me for a callous and greedy man. 

"Of course I disintegrated, fell apart. I remember being so angry, not at Susan or even Trevor, but at the waste, at myself for not taking more care of Susan. Perhaps for not fighting him. I felt guilty - responsible for their deaths. Hopeless, depressed."

"So what did you do?" she asked, then, "Oh, Joseph, I'm sorry, that was so insensitive."

"It's ten years ago, Angela," he said gently, "It's over."

"You are very calm," she said, "What about since?"

"My general manager is also a very good friend. He saw the state I was in and recommended a retreat in a monastery for as long as it would take, and he would look after the company. 

"So I went. It was life-changing. I was there a month and one of the monks straightened my head. Then I heard of a Buddhist monastery and went there for another month. Then back to the Cistercians to work and pray with them. I wondered about joining, but my spiritual director there said it was not for me. I worked in their fields and looked after their animals. I did some repair work on the equipment, I am a mechanic at heart you know. 

"I learned a great deal about myself there and about life. I learned how little is needed to be happy and contented. I learned that life is about letting go, that desire leads to suffering. I knew what to do. I needed to learn to forgive."

"So you moved here?"

"I sold my house and most of what was in it, and bought this cottage. I offered shares in the company to the management and workers. I keep a majority holding, but they participate in the profits, and have representation on the board. 

"I was able to sort this place out and extend it a little, from the profits on the house and the shares, and I had enough capital to tide me over until I could get the crops and the animals and hens. I am Chairman of the Board, but my friend is now Chief Executive and runs things. So there's plenty of money coming in to provide me with a good income, even without the small-holding. I phone Dennis once a week and chair a board meeting once a month, but I don't have to make day to day decisions very often any more.

"The other photo - the silhouette? That's Trevor?"

"I had no photo so I improvised."

"But why?"

"To help me to forgive them. They face me as I meditate every day."

"Your parents?"

"Yes, for dying and leaving me, Dad for being stupid, taking risks with the machinery, and Mum for her suicide and blaming me. Then Susan for leaving me, and taking Sonia from me, and Trevor for killing them in his arrogance."

"And?"

"Long since." He smiled that contented and loving smile, and she knew it was true.

"You know my name - Joseph?" he said; it wasn't really a question. "It means 'God shall add'. Well a lot was taken away, but I think in some sense it was for my own good. I have let it go. Now everything in my life is added. You are added, even if only for a short time. I'm grateful."

At that moment something happened in her. It was a warmth such as she had never felt before: she wanted him, and wanted to share his life. She just knew it. It was also naked sexual desire. Again she summoned up her courage; she was in awe of him.

"Joseph," she ventured, "would you let me come and stay here again?"

"Tonight?"

"Longer? I could take Monday and Tuesday off work."

"Of course, Angela. You know your name means, 'God's messenger'. You are a gift and you brighten my life." 

He smiled and her heart leapt, "Have you suitable clothing for hiking?" he asked, "I go walking with Bob on Sundays."

She was taken aback. "Well, only what I'm wearing," she said.

"Tomorrow if it's fine I'd still like to go; want to come? I promise I won't leave you behind!"

They laughed. She nodded.

"Then we'd better take you into town and get you kitted out. Boots, clothing. My treat."

"Oh, I couldn't let you pay for me!" she protested, "it'll cost the earth."

"I've plenty of earth," he gestured to the window at his land and laughed again, it was musical and she loved it.

"Seriously, I can afford it and I want to," he said.




The Smallholder Pt. 01



So they went in her car and bought what she needed. He smiled at her as she tried on the boots, and twirled round in the clothing to let him see. She felt so happy. She had not felt this light-hearted for a long, long time.

She was fascinated by the number of people in the town who knew Joseph. "Hi Joe!" "Hello Joe!" She wondered how so many people knew him when he lived alone for long periods, but again she did not ask.

Joseph knew. He had been frequenting the village pub for a while years ago - when he first moved in. A man came in and started talking to Joseph about the man's life. In the end he asked Joseph's advice, and Joseph asked enough questions for the man to realise for himself the answer to his dilemma, but that is another story.

The man told others and Joseph began to be sought out by people with problems. They would come to the pub and sit with him. People in the pub noticed and would go to him as well. The landlord was delighted with his increased trade. 'Buddhist Joe' was good for business.

---- 

FIVE

They returned to the cottage at five in the evening, and Joseph immediately began preparing supper of sliced boiled eggs, cheese, home made bread and a selection of his own home-made jams. Angela begged to help and was set to slice the bread when it came out of the microwave. They ate at the kitchen table, washing the meal down with mugs of tea.

After the meal Joseph made the rounds of the animals, and while he was out Angela loaded the dishwasher and washed up. He smiled when he returned to find the kitchen spotless. He thanked her.

"I meditate for about an hour morning and evening. You are welcome to sit by the stove or use the study. There are books as you know. Afterwards I take Bob down to the pub and have a couple of drinks. Would you like to come? It's the best part of two miles."

"I'd love to," she answered, "D'you think I can manage the walk?"

"If you can't we'll turn round and come back."

She watched from the door to the living room as he lit the candle, made a deep bow and then sat down cross-legged in the lotus position. Bob came out of the room and looked at her. She turned and went into the study, and found a novel she'd always wanted to read. She sat in the recliner and Bob went to the radiator, lay down and seemed to fall fast asleep.

She was so immersed in the book that she did not notice Bob leave the room after an hour, and was surprised when Joseph came into the room.

"Time to go," he said, "bring your book, if you want."

"No fear," she said, "books in pubs are for people on their own. I'll be with you."

"Wrap up warm," he told her. "It's a cold clear night."

The walk took the best part of an hour, Joseph being careful to match his pace to hers. The moon was full and bathed everywhere in a pale light. They did not speak during the walk, seemingly preoccupied with their own thoughts.

The heat of the pub hit them as they entered.

"What's this Joe?" said the Sam, the landlord, "didn't know you had a lady friend."

"There must be quite a lot you don't know, Sam," said Joseph, laughing. "This is Angela. She's visiting for the weekend."

"You're very welcome me-love," said Sam to Angela, "What you having?"

"Half of bitter please," she said.

"Oh, a woman with taste," said Sam. "You want to hold onto this one, Joe. Good looks and good taste in beer. What more could you want?"

Joseph merely smiled and they took their glasses to a table and sat down facing into the room. Sam brought over a bowl of water for Bob, who lapped it up thankfully. There were other men and a few couples, and they all knew one another and the conversation flowed. 

Angela noticed that Joseph made his quiet contributions. He seemed totally self-possessed. No one made any further comments about Angela or spoke to her, though plenty smiled at her, and she was happy to sit and listen and watch. She was warm and happy to be with him.

Joseph had two pints and Angela her two halves, and after an hour he asked her if she was ready for the walk back. They took their leave, with Sam and Violet saying she was welcome any time. 

It was quite late when they returned to the cottage and Joseph noticed Angela was exhausted. He regretted their outing then, remembering that she was not as fit as he was. Once again he insisted on her taking the bedroom while he had the recliner. She asked if there were not another bedroom upstairs, and he replied that no one ever came to stay the night, and so the upper bedroom was never used. He used the other upstairs rooms for storing the crops.

"I feel guilty at taking your bed again," she said, almost asking him to share his bed with her, but biting her tongue.

"Don't worry, I often sleep in the chair. It is very comfortable, believe me." It was true, Joseph found it as easy to sleep in as the bed. He remembered the residual perfume on the pillow after she left the first time and looked forward to it again.

Sunday

Next morning she again slept in until ten. She wandered through the empty house. She smelled the candle and knew he had been meditating that morning. Perhaps he was out tending to the livestock. Then she heard the sound of a Range Rover arriving, and saw it was he. The man was full of surprises; she did not know he had transport, but on reflection she knew it was essential.

She put the kettle to boil and was making some tea when he came in through the kitchen door, stamping his feet from the cold, frosty morning. 

"Problem?" she asked.

"Church."

Of course, she thought, it was Sunday.

"You're religious?" she asked, though she immediately knew the question was superfluous. The answer surprised her.

"Everyone is."

"I don't follow?"

"The word comes from the latin 'religare' meaning 'to bind fast'. Most people have some thing or cause they bind themselves to - God, a church or faith, an all-consuming hobby, football club, family, a good cause, third world poverty, you name it."

"Oh, and which is it for you? I'm sorry, is that too personal a question?"

"No. A simple life, thankfulness for everything, compassion for others, forgiveness, letting go, discipline of meditation to control desires."

"You haven't mentioned God," she said. "What about that?"

"I don't know. I don't think it's necessary to believe in my head; it's necessary to live as fully a human life as I can. If there is a God, that's what matters, how I live, not what I say. St James in one of his letters in the Bible says 'True religion is coming to the aid of widows and orphans when they need it, and keeping oneself uncontaminated by the world'. He says nothing about worship or prayer or high sounding words, just help those in need and don't get taken in by false values."

He stopped and smiled.

She thought for a while. Then, "but you went to the service at the church?"

"Yes."

Another pause.

"But why?"

"It's where Christians gather. There is always something to be learned when Christians gather, often in the most unlikely situations and the strangest ways. They support me and I support them. It keeps my feet on the ground."

She poured the tea while he set about cooking some bacon, tomatoes and eggs for breakfast. He fried some left over bread as well.

Once again she assessed the man. He seemed to have everything clear; he had principles and put them into practice. More than that he had a unified perspective - everything about him hung together and he was so thoughtful for her. She realised that she was far from able to say the same. 

They worked together in that silence she had come to love, and they ate the meal and drank the tea in that same silence, but with smiles and looks at each other.

She felt increasing attraction to and warmth for the man; she wanted to stay with him for longer.

By the same token, Joseph found himself feeling great affection for the woman who had come into his life. She was very attractive and had an open and loving character. She had begun to do little things for him, like making the tea when she knew he was coming home. He believed that the small actions done in love, bind and make a relationship solid.

He knew he liked her very much, and enjoyed her presence in his life. He felt the first gentle tendrils of desire for her and enjoyed that as well, though he knew she would go from him as she had before. Did that make him sad? He had to admit it did. Desire leads to suffering, he thought, the Buddha's teaching is true.

He did not mind. The Buddha never said one should not desire, only that it would lead to suffering. Jesus on the other hand seemed to find suffering in some sense redemptive - almost purifying. Joseph could live with that as well. Buddha said 'compassion' and Jesus said 'love', so on that they agreed. He would allow Angela to decide what she wanted.

"Are we still going walking?" Her question broke his reflections and he nodded. 

"It's a beautiful clear day, but cold," he said. "Wrap up warm. You have the kit now."

They agreed they did not need lunch, since they had only just finished breakfast, but Joseph made coffee and filled a flask, adding some chocolate and Kendal Mint Cake to his rucksack.

They did six miles in all, there and back, which as it happened, was twice the distance there and back to the pub! He was careful to keep to her pace. Bob ran ahead and then back to them and had a whale of a time, sniffing out smells beyond the range of human noses. 

Walking up the valley, following the course of the stream, they needed to cross it twice using stepping stones, and each time he held out his hand to help her across. Her initial reaction was annoyance - she could manage - but then realised she could hold his hand.

They reached the head of the pass, and looked down on the valley on the other side. It was wide and bowl-shaped, scraped out millions of years ago by glaciers, she thought. They could see for miles to a town in the far distance. 

The low winter sun cast a rosy light over the hillside, casting their long shadows over the grass and dead bracken. The sky was a deep blue and the cold breeze assailed their faces.

"It's beautiful!" she said, her eyes shining.

"Yes, it is," said Joseph, smiling at her comment. "It will be very cold tonight."

"Try your phone," he suggested.

She did and got a strong signal, so she phoned her boss and asked for time off. He suggested she take the week, since she had to use up her holiday entitlement; the company ran its holidays from March to February.

As she glanced at Joseph, who took her look as a request to stay even longer. He nodded with a smile.

Then they retraced their steps. Again he held out his hand, and she took it, but after she crossed the second set of stones she did not let go of his hand. The path was wide enough for two to walk abreast. He shot a glance at her and she smiled back. He smiled in his turn and made no attempt to let go of her hand. So they arrived at the cottage hand in hand.

"Thank you Joseph," she said as they shed their outdoor clothing, "that was lovely." 

Her smile made him wonder if it was the walk to which she referred, or the holding hands. He didn't mind, walking with her had brought him a feeling he had forgotten - warm and affectionate. He was glad she was staying longer.

He put her in the living room and put more logs on the stove, opening the vent so the flames roared. 

"You get warm," he said, "I'll get us something to tide us over till dinner."

He brought cheese on toast and tea, and they ate it at the table.

"Joseph," she said as they finished the snack, "you must let me help you. I can't just sit about while you run round after me."

"In that case, let me show you the rest of the house," he said, rising from the table.

He led her up the stairs to the rooms on the upper floor. There were two doors side by side facing the head of the stairs. Joseph opened them both to reveal two identical rooms which she realised were over the new kitchen. There were a few boxes and some shelves on which stood a number of jars some with pickles and some with jam. There were also large sacks of flour. Both rooms were warm, being over the kitchen. 

The room to the left of the stairs was heated by the flue from the stove and was quite warm, though cooler than the rest of the house. There was a double bed with a dust sheet over it, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe with a mirror in the door. Like the other rooms, it had a carpet square over the floorboards. The room had clearly not been used for a long time if ever.

She turned to him to remonstrate with him that she could have slept there, but he preempted her.

"The bed is not comfortable: the mattress is very lumpy," he said. "The recliner in the study is much more comfortable."

They moved to the front room. There were large chest freezers in the front room. 

To the right of the stairs was another bathroom. Smaller than the one downstairs, but well appointed, and beyond the stairwell there was another large room. The room was very cool, almost cold. Along one wall were apples laid out on trestles. There were racks suspended from the ceiling from which hung strings of onions and garlic. 

"The freezers in the other rooms are full of beans, peas and fruit," he said in answer to her unspoken question.

He then led her downstairs and to a door which led to a cellar. Here there were large wooden chests. 

"Potatoes," he said, "enough for the year. There are carrots over there, and swedes. I leave the parsnips in the ground. Cabbages too, and I earth up the leeks. The sprouts are finished, but the purple sprouting broccoli is coming. The animal feed is in the outhouses." 

"So you have enough to live on until the next year?" 

"Almost."

He led her to a further room. It was the wine cellar, and was quite extensive.

"You drink a lot of wine?" she asked.

"I like a glass with my evening meal," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

It surprised her. For some reason she thought he would be abstemious; then she remembered his regular visits to the pub. She smiled.

He showed her the storage room along the corridor between the living room and bedroom. It was another large room running the full length of the house. There were store cupboards, and more freezers. The cupboards were full of jars, tins and dried pulses and vegetables currents, raisins and sultanas. 

They went to the kitchen and Joseph gestured for her to explore, which she did quite thoroughly. She found the pantry with another extensive stock of tinned and dried goods.

"There's enough to withstand a siege in the house!" she said, turning to face him. He was sitting at the table with a grin on his face. It struck her she hadn't often seen him grin, he smiled a lot, but he did not grin.

"I get snowed in in Winter sometimes," he said, "occasionally for weeks." 

Then he got an evil glint in his eye, real humour, joking, "Could snow this week!"

"Would you like that?" she flirted archly, "I wouldn't be able to leave?"

"I'd really love it!" he said, "I love having you here!"

She blushed hotly; she had not expected so frank a reply. She had immediately had a wicked thought, that she would like him 'having' her. What was wrong with her? She was not like that! She hardly knew him!

"Look at the back of the pantry," he told her, "There is a joint of pork there, about right for the two of us. It's from one of last year's hogs."

She remembered the pigs in their sty and she shivered. 

"They aren't pets, Angela, remember?" he said.

She remembered he had told her that at her first visit. It brought it home to her afresh that animals had to be killed to provide meat.

"I know," she said, "I need a dose of realism about the food I eat. I'm glad I came."

"So am I," he said, "now let's get the joint in the oven and prepare the vegetables."

So they had roast pork with crackling, and a selection of home grown vegetables, the roast parsnips having been dug up the previous afternoon, and apple sauce. 

"They don't come much fresher," Joseph had laughed as he peeled the parsnips and sliced them thinly into batons.

Once the joint was in the oven, he said he was going to do his meditation for an hour.

"Can I join you?" she asked, "I promise I won't get in the way."

As always he smiled and nodded, and the two of them walked to the living room at the front of the house. Bob accompanied them until Joseph lit the candle when he disappeared.

Angela took her place well back and out of his line of sight, and sat down cross legged on the cold hard floor.

"Here," said Joseph who noticed where she was, and held out a large cushion to her, " The floor is too hard; you would be distracted by it."

She felt a warmth for him; he was always so considerate, so aware of her comfort.

"Thanks Joseph," she said with what she hoped was an warm loving smile.

He nodded and turned back towards the little altar. He adopted the lotus position, cross-legged with each foot resting on the opposing thigh. He bowed and then sat upright, a hand upwards on each knee, finger and thumb joined and there he stayed for the hour.

Angela sat down on the cushion cross legged, and tugged her legs into the lotus, imitating Joseph.

She wondered what to do next, and simply sat still. The image of her parents came unbidden, they were arguing, shouting at each other. Typical, she thought. Arguments seemed to be the way they got on together. It was always about money. They had a nice house in the suburbs, but her mother constantly berated her father about his job and the lack of money, as she saw it, that he brought in. He retorted that she should get out and get herself a job, whereupon she railed at him that he was not man enough to keep her. Why in this present age Angela thought to herself, why did her mother think she ought to be 'kept'? They had to have the best car in the road, the best TV, new curtains.

Now there was a memory of her teenage self shouting at her parents that she had not the latest stuff to wear. Designer stuff. Expensive stuff. Her father slipping the money to her, and her lack of gratitude. Guilt.

Then choosing and seducing the boys who had money - boys who paid for their dates and she paid them back on her back. She grimaced at the memories: the sex was never very good. They felt her up for their pleasure, not hers. She hated sucking their pricks, hated the white spunk that spurted or trickled when they came. And the sex. Ugh! They were handsome boys who said the right things and had the money to take her out, but they were utterly selfish and never lasted either during sex, or in relationships.They never tried. 

Her abortion. She shivered. Why did that thought hit her? It was ten years ago. Her son would be ten. A tear trickled down her cheek.

Gerard. His pinched face, never satisfied. At least he knew how to bring her off. He knew how to tongue her, diddle her, but he would push her face on his cock and she would retch. She hated blowing him. Thankfully he would usually get on top of her before he came in her mouth, and push into her and do his thing. In some ways he was like the rich boys had been, but he saw to her needs in other ways.

So oppressive, she thought, his obsessive jealousy, his manipulation of her, his controlling nature. How he'd ask her what she wanted to do and then say they'd do something different. How he kept telling her she was submissive and loved his dominating her. Then a shiver: he nearly killed her when he abandoned her and he was not in the least sorry.

Why stay with him? Gerard really did love her in his way. If she got angry he would humbly apologise. He never meant it, he said. But it was his way. It was how he made his money - perfect confidence in his own ability and power. They did all the expensive things - holidays, clothing, restaurants, theatre, ballet, clubbing. Unbidden, the word prostitute came to her mind and shocked her. Did she still pay for her pleasures on her back, even with him?




The Smallholder Pt. 01



The thoughts went round and round and suddenly she was aware of Joseph extinguishing the candle and standing. She tried to untangle her legs and found they would not move.

Joseph turned and laughed at her. She pouted, and undid her legs by hand. He held out his hand and helped her up. She staggered, and he held her against him until she regained feeling in her feet and could stand. She loved it and he enjoyed the feeling of her firm young body against him.

"You need practice," he laughed, disentangling, "It gets easier."

They made their way to the kitchen.

"I'll need to bed the livestock down," he said, "and milk the goats. It will be cold tonight."

"Joseph," she said, "Can I help?"

"Do you cook? Will you get our evening meal ready?" he asked. "I'll get everything out for you."

The smell of the cooking joint was sweet and rich. He put out the vegetables and apples and she set to work while he went out into the cold darkening night.

---- 

SIX

After the meal, as they sat on each side of the stove in the living room, Angela was almost loth to break the peace. Each had a glass of red wine from dinner, for Joseph had brought the bottle in from the kitchen. Bob lay between them snoring in the heat of the fire.

She could not help it, though. She had to break into the silence and ask.

"Joseph," she said quite tentatively, "what happens when you meditate?"

"What happened with you?" he asked in return.

"Lots of ideas," she said, "They just kept coming."

"And?"

"Well, I didn't know what to do about them."

"So?"

"I thought about them and realised that for most of my life I've been a really selfish bitch."

Silence. Joseph was looking at her kindly. Waiting.

"As a child I had to have the latest games, and later, in teenage I wanted the latest craze and fashion. I'd shout and stamp and slam doors until I got what I wanted. Dad would slip me the money without my mother knowing. I took it as a right, I don't think I even thanked him.

"Then I remembered how I used boys and they used me. I dated rich boys and demanded the best from them, and they demanded blow-jobs and sex. I hated the blow-jobs, and most of them were no good in bed - or the back of their cars.

"Then there was the memory of when I got pregnant. It was inevitable really - so much activity, even if I made the boys use condoms, they're not foolproof."

She stopped ashamed and uncertain as to how he would react.

"And?" he asked. His eyes were gentle and she felt more confident.

"I had an abortion. He - or she - would be ten now. I still feel guilty at taking that life away."

He nodded, but his gentle expression never changed. She continued.

"I went with Gerard because he had money. He was charming at first, but he turned out very jealous. No, that's not quite true, he is still very loving and caring, but he has a jealous streak and a temper. He is also very autocratic; he orders me about. I think when he left me before you found me (ok, when Bob found me)," she smiled when she saw his attempt to correct her. He would never take credit for saving her, she thought. "It was temper. We had a row; I can't even remember what about."

"So," he prompted, "What came out of your hour?"

"I'm not a very nice person to know," she said, and stopped.

Did she expect him to deny it? To say, 'No, You're a very nice person'? It didn't happen.

"That's a start," he said.

"What d'you mean?" She was disappointed at his acceptance of her statement.

He did not answer the question, but seemed to go off at a tangent.

"When I began meditating," he said, "I spent hour after hour resenting my wife and Trevor. Not just resenting: hating. I became more and more aware of my hatred and resentment, and eventually I noticed self-pity. I had not expected that. I learned, very slowly, that all these feelings were in me not them, and that I had to find a way to escape from the prison my feelings had put me in. What they had done would never change; it had happened. It was further and further in the past. I was prolonging the agony in myself. You understand?"

"And you did," she said, "change I mean."

"Very slowly, yes, I learned to let it go; to forgive. The old feelings would rise in me from time to time, but yes, eventually it was put to bed. I was free. Only then did my meditation change.

"Now is not the time to tell you about that," he said gently. "Perhaps one day when you've done a little more meditating, you'll know what I'm talking about. I don't think you would now."

"So, what about me?"

"You're just starting out. You have issues and meditation will bring them out. It will not always be comfortable. After a meditation session you have to confront what you experienced, judge it and try to act on it."

"I don't want to be a selfish bitch any more."

"Then don't be. You haven't been selfish - or bitchy - while you've been here." He smiled and she knew he was gently mocking her.

"You bring out the best in me," she said.

He smiled again, and picked up the book he had been reading. Angela went to the study and found one of P D James's crime novels and brought it back to the living room. They spent the rest of the evening reading.

Joseph only broke the peace by letting Bob out of the front door, and closing it after the dog had returned.

"It is very cold tonight," he said. "Do you want a hot water bottle?"

"Please," she said.

He went to kitchen and prepared the bottle, taking it to the bedroom and knocking on the partially open door. She came to the door wearing a pair of silk pyjamas, and took the bottle from him, placing it on the dresser. Then she hugged him and lifted her face to kiss him. He was surprised, but bent to her and their lips met in a gentle embrace.

"Thank you for a wonderful day," she whispered.

"I glad you enjoyed it," he said smiling shyly at her. Tomorrow the weather may not be so pleasant. Clouds are arriving: it looks like snow."

She bent and picked up the hot water bottle, allowing her pyjama top to gape and her breasts to be partially on show. He wondered if she did it on purpose, but he was grateful for the gift of the show. He felt a definite stirring at the hug and display. He was grateful for that too.

She smiled at him and he thought he detected a mischievous glint in her eye. He smiled back, turned and went to the study and his comfortable chair.

Monday

For the first time in a long time, Joseph's meditation next morning was plagued with distractions and they all centred on Angela. He had not given their hug and her display the previous night any thought and had fallen asleep immediately in his chair.

Now he was plagued by visions of her neat firm breasts hanging proud beneath her pyjama top as she bent. Then there was her rear, her perfectly formed behind, followed by a memory of her legs and thighs when he was treating her sprained ankle. He witnessed these images and let them go their way, but they kept coming back!

There were her comments about herself and her relationships, she hinting that she liked him more and more and was enjoying being with him. She seemed to be idolising him. He was not comfortable with that, but again he watched the ideas go by and let them go.

Finally came questions. They seemed to come from his wife as he looked at her photo and that of their little daughter.

'Are you attracted to her?' He considered it. Yes.

'Do you want her?' Yes.

'What are you going to do about it?' 

This caused a good deal of heart-searching, and his meditation was over early. He decided to leave the question unanswered for the time being and get on with seeing to the livestock. At least they didn't ruin his meditation! He knew that the idea of a ruined meditation was a joke; he was sure that everything that came to a meditation was important and had a message for him.

There was a stiff freezing breeze in the air, blowing from the north east. The clouds were slate grey as they processed across the sky, and there was a wisp of dampness in the air. 

Bob arrived in the room as usual as soon as the candle was extinguished, and he let the dog out before making porridge, leaving it to cook gently in the oven, and setting the kettle to boil for tea when he returned.

He had only just finished boxing up the eggs when Barry arrived for the goats' milk and the surplus eggs. Joseph made tea and they sat together as was their wont at the kitchen table.

" 'appen there'll be snow ere too long," said Barry, breaking the silence. "Wind's set to veer due east. It'll blow reet up yer valley. Tha' knows what that means."

"OK for me," said Joseph. "I can last a month or more. It won't be the first time, and certainly not the last!"

"Reckon I'll need the tractor to get here t'morrer," said the farmer.

"Aye," agreed Joseph, "It'll be quiet enough if we're snowed in."

"They say power lines could come down, but you're sat well, with yer technology." 

Barry said the word as if he were talking of magic, in spite of having the latest machinery on his farm, but he was grinning as he said it.

Joseph laughed.

Barry finished his tea and drove off as Angela arrived in the kitchen, still in her silk pyjamas. It brushed against her body showing her shape, especially her breasts and bottom and the curve of her waist. It was captivating for Joseph, who smiled broadly.

"You just missed Barry," he said. "You would have cheered him up wearing that!"

She looked disconcerted for a moment, after all he had never made a flirting remark before. She realised she liked it: he was a real man after all!

"I missed morning meditation," she lamented.

"You can do it any time," he said. "Just go in the living room and shut the door. But first, have some porridge with a spot of honey, and some tea. The weather is closing in so I need to sort out the animals and batten down the hatches. I'll be out most of the morning and you'll be left in peace."

Once the simple warming meal was over, Angela told him she would wash up and he gratefully went out into the cloudy windy morning. She watched him striding strongly out, and as he did so the first snow flakes sped horizontally past the kitchen window.

By the time she finished washing up she could not see across the yard, the snow was falling so thick and heavy. It blew horizontally and then eddied as the wind dropped for a moment before blowing across again. She had thought she knew what a blizzard was like before, but this was a whiteout. She felt all the warmer in the kitchen for that, but felt for Joseph having to be out in it.

Eventually she decided to go and try meditating, and went to the living room as she was, in her pyjamas. The stove was low but the room was still warm and comfortable. She put some more logs on and closed the door. Bob was snoozing by the fire and raised his head as she did the chore, his tail idly beating the floor, before he sank back into torpor.

She sat in a half-lotus position this time, remembering her stiffness the previous time, and breathed deeply, allowing her thoughts to slip away. She was becoming still and this time she sank into a serene peacefulness she had never felt before. She remembered to let her thoughts go by and then be still again, and the hour passed quickly. 

Her watch alarm, which she had set for one hour, sounded, and she reluctantly stood and felt serene and at peace. 

Then came a disturbance. It was the sound of a very loud vehicle arriving at the cottage. Then someone began hammering on the door. 

"Someone caught in the storm," she thought, looking through the window at the whiteout beyond, as she made her way to the door. She opened it and immediately someone wearing a fashionable overcoat and silk scarf pushed past her and shut the door against the cold. She then realised she was still in her pyjamas.

He was taller then she was, and as he turned she found herself face to face with Gerard. He was not happy, in fact he was red faced with anger, or was it the cold? She shrank back.

"I knew it! What the fuck are you doing here?" he shouted in her face. She cowered, but they were interrupted by a barking dog who snarled at Gerard, baring its teeth. It stopped Gerard in his tracks.

"It's ok, Bob," she said. "Go! Lie down," and she pointed back into the living room. The dog slunk reluctantly away.

"Well?" said Gerard more quietly, casting a glance at the living room door. "What are you doing here, as if I didn't know?" he sneered, looking pointedly at her pyjamas.

"I'm taking a few days' holiday," Angela told him. "Joseph and his dog saved my life and I wanted some time to myself. So I came back."

"Saved your life!" he scoffed. "Still keeping that lie up! You came back to fuck him. You've been fucking him haven't you? Admit it! Look at you. Just come from his bed I'll bet."

Angela thought of Joseph's early morning routine and found Gerard's accusation ridiculous; she laughed derisively and immediately became stubborn. 

"I'm not admitting anything to you," she said.

"You came here for a fuck with a big burly farmer, eh? Slumming it with a country yokel, you really are a skank, aren't you? What's he got? A great big prick? Lazy sod; some of us have to get up and work."

His description of her would have angered her if his assessment of Joseph had not been so ludicrous. She smiled at the thought of Joseph being lazy.

"You really wouldn't understand, Gerard," Angela retorted witheringly, "You're not in his class as a man, and I suspect he knows more about hard work than you ever did."

"So it is his prick!" Gerard said triumphantly. "Anyway, you've had your fun, time to go home and when we get back I'll soon make sure you forget him. You know what I mean. So go get your things." 

There was something about his tone that didn't ring right, and she noticed. He should be insanely jealous, foaming at the mouth. Was he turned on by his misconception of her relationship with Joseph? Was he a cuckold at heart? She dismissed the thought. 

She realised with fresh clarity he would most likely dump her once he got her home. She wondered if her things were already in bin bags in the garage. Perhaps there would be another woman in the flat - naked in his bed - to upset her. He probably thought she would be heartbroken to lose him, and now she knew it would not bother her.

"No!" she said, folding her arms, which had the effect of pushing her breasts up and together, so that her nipples pressed against the fabric.

"What d'you mean, 'no'? You belong with me, Angie. Go get your stuff. Do as I say."

"I'm not leaving here, I have another two days holiday coming to me." She had a week but she was not going to let him know that.

"You fucking will. Get your stuff or I'll make you!" He grabbed her arm.

"Take your hands off me!" Her tone was sharp and full of dislike.

What happened next was a devastating surprise for all three people.

Joseph had heard the car arrive. Even in the blizzard the noise was deafening. He finished adding to the bedding for the pigs, and made his way back through the driving snow to the house.

As he entered the kitchen he could hear the voices raised. Angela was arguing with a man who was taunting her coarsely with his sexual talk. Joseph went to the door to listen in case she needed help. He heard her defending him and felt a warmth for her, but on hearing her tell the man to let her go, he rounded the door and walked rapidly to the hallway.

He stopped short when he saw the man, who turned towards him.

"Trevor?" Joseph uttered the word with incomprehension as he faced the man who had taken his wife and daughter from him.

"Joe?" came a similarly surprised exclamation. "What the fuck?"

"Trevor?" Angela queried, now totally confused. "This is Gerard."

"So," Trevor/Gerard grumbled, "You had to get your revenge, didn't you! I took your wife, so you had to take my girlfriend. Find her a good fuck then, Joe? So this is your place. A bit primitive for a city type, don't you think? A comedown from a company director? Living the life of a recluse, pitiful!"

Joseph said nothing, standing passively. 

"Joseph," Angela said suspiciously, "Is this? You know, the one-"

"Yeah, Angie baby," Trevor gloated, "I took his wife. Sexy little piece she was too. I would have settled down with her as well. You see Angie, Joseph here was a little too immersed in his business and she needed attention. Joe here, poor bugger, hadn't a chance!"

"You selfish, egotistical, calculating, nasty slime of a man!" Angela said viciously. "I got Joseph to tell me all about you - only I didn't know it was you. How can you stand there and boast after what you did to him and his family? I never want to see or hear from you again - and you just wait till I tell our friends about what you did. 

"I'm not surprised you changed your name and moved. You have no shame and no conscience. All you ever think about is yourself, your bloody bank balance and your pathetic lifestyle. Just get out, Gerard, or Trevor, or whatever you're calling yourself!"

Wow! thought Joseph, Must remember never to get on her bad side, but he said nothing, remaining where he was passively.

"Don't be a stupid bitch, Angie," Gerard sneered. "You always knew I look after number one. I do what I want and I tell you what to do. It turned Susan on and it turns you on. You need to be dominated; most women do. He'll never do it, he's a wimp. Susan said he turned her stomach, always consulting her, always running round after her trying to make her feel good. And you're the same, so cut the crap, get your stuff and let's go."

"No!" she said, her face like flint. "If I'd known what you did, I wouldn't even have stayed in the same room as you. You don't get it do you? As far as I'm concerned you are an adulterer, a murderer, and a bully. Why don't you go away and stop polluting this man's house with your stupid arrogance."

A look of surprise and worry crossed Trevor's, or Gerard's, face. Then he smiled his smug smile.

"Ok, Angie baby, but I'm moving on, so don't come crawling to me when you tire of this nobody. I'm going."

Joseph now surprised even himself. He looked for anger, for resentment, for humiliation at what Trevor had said, and he found none. He felt calm and almost detached. He could see the man's driving need to be someone, to exercise power, to dominate in order to give himself status and value. 

He wondered idly why the man was so insecure. It occurred to him, as it had to Angela, that if Angela had gone back with Trevor, he would probably have dumped her once back home, since he clearly thought that she had been unfaithful to him, and his pride would never allow that.

He shook himself. Whatever he was, the man was in danger. The blizzard had raged for two hours, and even now the snow would be drifting deeply as the wind strengthened further. Parts of the track to the road would shortly be impossible for a car like Trevor's, if not already; it would be no match for these conditions. 

"Trevor," he said quietly, "I strongly advise you not to try to drive that car in these conditions. It's unlikely you'll reach the road, and even the road will have been drifting badly. The ploughs will not get to us until later, perhaps even tomorrow. You had best stay here."

"Oh no!" crowed Trevor. "You don't get me with that one. Another trick, like your lie about Angie's ankle. I know you lured her here to get revenge on me. Now you want me to stay and listen to you fucking her - rub my nose in it. Well I'm no cuckold, no way! I'm going."

"It is unlikely you will get very far. If you have trouble, Trevor, come back here, the village is two miles away, too far on foot in this, dressed as you are." 

His calmness seemed to antagonise Trevor.




The Smallholder Pt. 02



It will definitely help to have read part one! Some sex in this part.

NINE

Not for the first time, Angela's thoughts and emotions were in turmoil. One or other of the paramedics was working on Gerard most of the time, but the noise and the lurching of the aircraft gave her little room for thought. Then she accompanied the stretcher into the hospital until Gerard was taken to Intensive Care and she had to wait in the waiting room until a nurse came to see her.

"We're monitoring him and he's been sedated to help him. He won't be conscious until tomorrow afternoon. Go home and get some sleep."

"Will he be all right?" she asked; it had all seemed so much of an emergency.

"The chances are in his favour; you looked after him very well. If his heart holds out, and it seems strong enough, he should pull out of the lung problems, but you need to be rested."

She nodded and thanked the nurse and left the hospital, walking out into the damp darkness. She was grateful that Gerard had been brought to their local hospital, though 'local' was five miles away from where he lived. It was sleeting lightly, and she wondered if it was snowing up in the hills where Joseph was.

She considered phoning her brother for a lift, but couldn't face him and his sanctimonious and critical comments. She hailed a taxi and paid the extortionate fare to Gerard's flat. She remembered her car was at Joseph's and that she would be without it for a while. 

Joseph! In a moment of clarity she remembered that she had made an arrangement with him to stay the week. She had shown him by a number of hints that she fancied him, and then had left him without a backward glance to go with Gerard to hospital, and had done that after everything she had learned about Gerard and what he had done to Joseph!

The taxi arrived at the house and she paid the driver and made her way in. It was cold in the house and she fired up the central heating and switched on the electric fire in the living room.

She was hungry. She looked in the fridge and realised that by leaving on Saturday morning early, she had not done the shopping. The fridge was full of ready meals. Gerard had done the shopping! She selected a beef risotto and microwaved it. It was passable and filling, but she couldn't help but think about Joseph's cooking.

As she ate she thought idly over what had happened. Why had she left Joseph to come back with Gerry? Then it came to her. Gerry had no one else. The thought came as a shock. She knew nothing of his present family and it had never occurred to her to ask. His 'friends' were really only acquaintances; she wondered how many of those who drank with him would lift a finger if he were in trouble. Most of their close friends were her friends, and even they did not seem to warm to him. The exception was her brother, and she had given up trying to understand him years ago.

After Angela and Gerard had met at a club and had started to date, she thought it prudent to ask around about his background, only to find that no one knew his history, though it was common knowledge he hailed from Wigan, a satellite town west of the city. For most people it was enough that he was entertaining and generous with his money. 

He had told her that the town was Wigan, but that he was sick of people cracking jokes about Wigan Pier and pies.

He was so attractive that she had been delighted when he had made overtures to her. Though he spoke of his childhood in Wigan and his following its rugby club, and though he talked about his University life at Cambridge and his successes as a sales managing director, she, like everyone else, still had known nothing about his family or his social life before he arrived in their area of the city. It simply never came up.

Now she thought she knew why he kept quiet about his past and the secret it held.

Really she already knew it was over with Gerard. She knew he did have redeeming qualities and she had been able to cope with his manipulative and domineering ways, but it was the moment he had left her on the hillside, then his aggressive and violent confrontation with her at Joseph's, and of course the business of Joseph's wife and child that clinched it for her. 

She would move her stuff out the next day. Her flat began to feel very attractive and she needed to take stock of her life. Then she remembered she had no car. She recalled that she was on Gerard's insurance on his second car; he had never allowed her near the Porsche, but she could use the Lexus.

Her thoughts drifted to Joseph and she felt a rush of warmth. Joseph was the diametric opposite of Gerard. Her mind filled with the memory of her short time with him. He was so peaceful, calm, collected and thoughtful for her all the time, self-sacrificing even. 

After Gerard's dreadful behaviour towards him, he went out after him in case he was in trouble, brought him back and was responsible for his survival. She still could not fathom how he could do that to the man who stole his wife and child and who had tried to humiliate Joseph further by attempting to adopt the little girl.

Angela wondered if Gerard was right and that she would not be able to survive living the life that Joseph lived? She had always been a city girl as Gerry had said, used to all the luxuries that city life affords. 

Then she remembered her misgivings about Joseph's adequacy as a husband, and her worries about his solitary state.

She was realistic enough, she thought, to know that it was one thing to go there for a break from normal life, quite another to live like that.

She decided to ask Greta. Greta would have answers. Greta was wise beyond her years. She picked up the phone and dialled.

"Greta," said the woman at the other end abruptly. It was her way: efficient and decisive.

"Greta it's Angela. Could you come round tomorrow morning?"

"Yes. I'm on nights from tomorrow. What time?"

"Early?" Angela said tentatively.

"Eight?" came the immediate reply.

"Thanks. Come for breakfast?"

"OK." Click.

That's Greta, thought Angela, never a superfluous word. She went to bed feeling much better. She had not noticed that contrary to her usual practice, she had not switched on either the radio or the TV all evening.

Next morning she told her friend that she was leaving Gerard, and would Greta help clear her stuff out of his house. Greta asked why and Angela asked if they could talk about it when the move was complete. Greta shrugged and agreed. The sleety rain had stopped and the day was fine and sunny if cold, so the move went without a hitch.

"You remember me telling you about Gerry leaving me on a mountainside and this man Joseph finding me and saving me?" Angela began after they had eaten lunch.

"Keith picked you up, didn't he?"

"Pompous little prick," muttered Angela, "accused me of knowing Joseph before and making up the story to stay with him."

"That's what Gerry told everyone - not true?"

"Not true. How could Gerry have known that? No one knew where I was until Joseph went down the track to send my text and let the mountain rescue know. He saved my life, Greta, I would have died of exposure if his dog hadn't found me."

"Gerry said that was a load of baloney."

"He would. Anything to avoid admitting he could have killed me, going off like that. Anyway, Gerry certainly learned about exposure when he came to the cottage after me."

"Gerry came after you? That's why he's in hospital now?"

"In his Porsche, in a snowstorm. Of course he was his usual aggressive and overbearing self. He insulted Joseph very badly and told me – told me, Greta – to pack and go with him."

"And you refused," it was a bald statement made with a grim smile.

"Yes. Then Gerry said he was going. Joseph advised him not to go: the track and the roads would be impassable for a Porsche, but he sneered at Joseph, told him he was a wimp and he, Gerry, knew how to handle his car. Then he left."

"And?"

"Joseph told me to wrap up warm and we would go after him. He seemed to know that Gerry wouldn't make it. I was amazed after the way Gerry treated Joseph that Joseph would want to go after him. I didn't realise how dangerous the snowstorm was."

"And?"

"We found him, sitting under a bush and delirious. The car had gone off the track and instead of coming back to the cottage, he'd been going towards the village. Joseph knew what to do; it saved Gerry's life."

"But you came back with Gerry."

"Don't know why, it was a reflex action really. After what he did to Joseph, I'm finished with him."

"So Joseph looked after Gerry even though he had insulted him, and you thought you ought to follow his example?"

Angela had not thought of that. "Perhaps," she said.

"You're really taken with this guy," Greta said. "At least that's what you implied. He's really made an impression, no?"

"He's very special."

"You fancy him!" crowed Greta. "That's why you went back to see him – you fancy him!"

Angela blushed and Greta laughed heartily.

"Nothing wrong with you wanting him," said Greta when she had calmed down.

"He's lovely. So gentle and calm and peaceful. That's what I want to talk to you about. The thing is, I do fancy him, and I think he's interested in me."

"Which sentient male wouldn't be? So what's your problem? Go for it!"

"It's not as easy as that. He's had a lot of tragedy in his life. His father owned a factory but died in an accident, his mother went to pieces and he was trying to run the factory and look after her. His wife obviously thought she was being neglected, found another man and walked out on him without warning, taking their little daughter with her. Then the man she went off with with killed them both in a road accident. And his mother committed suicide and left a note blaming Joseph for his father's death."

"Good God!" exclaimed Greta, "That's appalling!"

Angela nodded and continued.

"Joseph broke down and became something of a recluse. He goes to the local pub but that's about all. He has a smallholding – chickens, goats, pigs. He grows his own food. He makes his own electricity from a stream and wind turbines; he cuts down trees in his own wood for heating in winter.

"But would you credit it? He has no phone, no mobile signal, no TV, no radio – no that's not right, he has a wind-up radio but I've never seen it. He writes – a novel I think he's writing.

"The thing is, Greta, I don't know if I can live like that. I mean, it's ok for a relaxing break, but full time? I've always lived in towns, I like clubbing, my comfortable flat, theatre, you know what I like. I don't know if I could give it all up for a very quiet life in the country."

Greta was about to interrupt when Angela held up her hand.

"And another thing. I wonder about his wife. Perhaps he's not very much fun to live with, not much to write home about in bed, you know? It would account for why she left him. So I don't know what to do."

Greta thought for a moment. Then looked up. 

"If what you're saying is true, he's not a good catch, but even though you have listed all the problems, you are undecided. So you must be very attracted to him. You are, aren't you?"

Angela nodded with a smile.

"You say he's gentle, kind, thoughtful. You say he seems to be interested in you, though he's not made any moves. Well, I'd say he may be worth a try. Look, you can shack up with him on a provisional basis, see what he's like in bed, what he's like to live with after the novelty's worn off. See if you like the life, and don't forget, if he falls for you, he may change – become more outgoing, more fun. Can you lose?"

Angela shook her head with another smile.

"Can you afford not to try?" asked Greta.

Angela thought for a moment and again shook her head. "So I play it by ear?"

"Exactly. Let's face it, you've hardly been with him very long, have you? You may find he isn't interested in you!" and she laughed out loud, as if to say, 'Like as if!'

In the afternoon Angela went with Greta to visit Gerard. They found him sitting in a chair by his bed and, while pale, he seemed to have much of his spirit back, but his voice was weak.

"They're letting me home tomorrow," he said, "Can you get a chicken for roasting? I feel like celebrating!"

"No, Gerry," Angela told him quietly. "I've moved out."

"You've what?"

"I've moved out. We're finished, Gerry. It's over. I can't live with you any more."

"It's that fucking Joseph, isn't it?"

"No, it isn't. It's what you did to him. To his wife and child."

Greta started at this, and shot her a puzzled look. It went unnoticed by both the others.

"He wasn't man enough for her and he's not man enough for you. Don't be stupid Angie."

"Not man enough? You know perfectly well what the matter was with their marriage: His father died in that accident, then his mother went to pieces, and he was running the company as well."

"Gave you that sob story, did he? Face it, Angie, he was a failure as a business man and a failure as a husband. You can't run a business, be a nursemaid and a husband."

"Well, Gerry, you certainly saved his wife and child didn't you? You certainly improved their lives, didn't you?"

"It was an accident. Everyone knew that."

"Your story Gerry. You drove while drunk. I know who I believe. I've heard enough of your lies."

"What lies? When have I lied to you?"

"Not to me, about me."

"Yeah, Gerry," broke in Greta, "you remember? Angy was already a lover of Joseph and lagged behind so that she could stay with him? God, you're a piece of work."

"What about his lies?" Gerry said with some anger. "You were suffering from exposure! What does he know? He used it to get you to stay. If Keith hadn't gone for you, he'd have had you in his bed."

"Oh," Greta interrupted, "So Angie didn't know him earlier? She hadn't been shagging him?"

"And," added Angela, "he saved your sorry life."

"I'd have been all right," Gerard asserted. "I just needed a rest. I was well on my way when he came interfering."

"You forget I was there, Gerry," Angela said heatedly. "You were semi-conscious, and you nearly died. Joseph did everything to save your life, and he succeeded. What I can't understand is why he bothered at all after what you did to him."

"Listen, you stupid bitch. He knows nothing, and apart from getting me back to the cottage, he did nothing but call the medics. Don't give me that 'saviour' nonsense."

"Goodbye Gerry," Angela face was suffused with rage. She turned and left the ward never looking back.

"You're a louse, Gerry," added Greta. "A fucking waste of space," and she left in her turn.

"Wait up, Angie!" Greta called after her. Angela stopped and let her catch up. They walked together to the car.

"What was that about? What did Gerry do?"

"Remember I told you Joseph's wife left him? It was Gerry seduced her."

"But you said the man killed..."

"That's right. Gerry had a party to celebrate her divorce and drove off the road drunk afterwards and into a tree. Killed the wife and the child. After all that, Joseph paid for the funeral. He carried his little daughter's coffin! Gerry survived relatively unhurt but would have nothing to do with the family. He didn't even go to the funeral."

A long silence ensued then, "Bloody Hell! After all that Joseph looked after him – saved his life?"

Angela nodded.

"Go after that man," Greta said decisively. "He's one in a million. Wow, that's something special. That's really cool!"

"You don't think Gerry's right? That he wasn't much of a husband?"

Greta thought for a while. It was what Angela valued in her – she thought before she spoke.

"Well," she said at length, "It often happens that after a tragedy a couple breaks up. I think Joseph tried to do right by his mother and the factory workers and also by his wife, but his wife felt neglected. He was probably depressed and perhaps his wife found it hard to cope. Who knows?"

"He did say he went to pieces after the death of his wife and child,' added Angela. "He went to a monastery, he said, then he sort of sold the part of the business to the workers and bought his little farm."

"Ah, that's why Gerry thinks he was a lousy businessman," agreed Greta. "Gerry would never think of looking after his workers. He's a money man."

"Well, looking at the cottage Joseph lives in, you couldn't say he's dominated by money!" said Angela and she laughed.

---

Long before Angela and Greta began moving her out of Trevor's house that Tuesday morning, In fact before either of the women was awake, Joseph overslept! 

For the first time for many years, he overslept. Seven o'clock! He lay back in the warm bed. No meditation that morning. Bob came into the room and put his head on the mattress by Joseph's hand, inviting some loving. Joseph fondled his ears, and rubbed his head, grasping his neck and massaging it. 

Bob looked at him with expectation, and Joseph knew he needed to go out for relief and then to have his breakfast. He pulled himself out of bed, and noticed it was very cold. He had gone to bed without making up the boiler for the night. He donned his thick dressing gown, and sitting on the bed pulled on his slippers, then made his way to the front door, opening it for Bob, who rushed outside. Joseph waited behind the door until Bob scratched to be let in. Then it was the dog's breakfast. As he made it the thought crossed his mind, provoking a smile, that the morning was a dog's breakfast so far!

Next came the lighting of the kitchen stove for the central heating and the Aga cooker, and building the fire in each. Then the same thing with the living room stove. 

He dressed and wrapped up warm and saw to the animals. The snow overnight seemed to have been light and brief. The dawn was well advanced and the sky had a rosy glow presaging the rising of the sun down the valley. The snow made the morning brighter than usual and he saw the sky was cloudless. It was very cold indeed.

He returned to the kitchen, carrying the eggs and the milk churn. The room was warming nicely. He wondered if Barry would be able to make it with the tractor. 

He decided on a treat and cooked himself bacon, eggs, mushrooms and tomatoes with a wedge of fried bread. He was finishing the meal and feeling warm and full for the first time that morning, when he heard the tractor. He poured a mug of tea and made some toast.

Barry came barrelling into the kitchen.

"Blimey!" he grumbled, "It's brass monkeys out there!" He would have added the word 'fucking' but knew that Joe did not like the word. 

Joseph laughed.

"Your cab is heated Barry. How was the journey?"

"Fair to middlin'. Needed to use the shovel part of the way, but the plough worked for most of it. Road's clear; the plough and gritter were out in the night. I got the area round the car clear but it'll need some hand work. I got a hoist from Derek at the garage. You comin'?"

"Get the toast and tea in you. There's time. It's not as if you'll be doing much on the farm in this lot."

It turned into a long job, and towards the end it began to snow again. It took most of the morning to remove the Porsche from the edge of the ditch without damaging the undercarriage. 

Joseph brought the car back to the cottage, having hitched a lift to the scene on Barry's tractor. He parked the car in the garage, which was in fact an old barn with plenty of room. It was then that he saw Angela's car, sitting under a mound of snow. He had no key and it was locked, so there was nothing he could do.

For the first time that day it reminded him of her and he felt lonely. Twice she had asked to stay longer, and twice had left early. He smiled. Perhaps it was a sign. He went back to the cottage and received a rapturous welcome from Bob. He still had one steadfast friend who was not going to disappear in a hurry. He wondered how Trevor was faring, not that Trevor was a friend in any sense. The snow fell quite gently all afternoon and for the rest of the night.




The Smallholder Pt. 02



That evening he returned to his meditation, and found that he could not concentrate, nor could he still his mind. It was Angela. She flew around his mind and would not let him be. He had memories of her voice, her laugh. He had visions of her body in her underwear, her shape. 

He wondered what she might be doing at that moment. He wondered why she had gone so easily with Trevor, knowing him for what he was. He wondered if he had seen the last of her. Too much wondering, he thought as he caught himself.

It was the succession of feelings that went with the queries in his mind that made the hour torture for him. It was not so much the emotions themselves but that he had lost the equilibrium and peace of his meditation hour. It was as if he was starting all over again. He sighed and left his mat.

Thursday 5 February 2009

It was two relatively fine but very cold days later that he and Bob made the journey to the pub in the village. On the return journey the snow began to fall again as it had from time time time all week, but Barry had kept the track clear. There was little wind and the further man and dog walked the heavier it became. He was glad to close the door behind him.

He went to put on his warm slippers. Sitting on the bedroom chair, he bent to put them on, and noticed a scrap of paper far under the bed. He crawled under and picked it up. There was writing on it.

It was her address and phone number. It had been hastily scribbled and he understood she did it when she was getting her stuff together to go with Trevor in the helicopter. It must have blown off the bedside table as she rushed around. He could tell her the track was clear, so she could come and collect her car.

However, when he opened the kitchen door on the Friday morning after another distracted hour of meditation he found that the snow was still falling and had already drifted to a metre deep in places round the cottage. He would not be going anywhere today. He made some porridge and washed it down with some tea, before trudging out to clear a way and see to the livestock. He returned two hours later with the churn of milk and the few eggs the chickens had laid, putting the milk into the fridge to keep it chilled. Barry would not be coming today, he thought.

Then he remembered. Angela had left her phone number, and he deduced that she wanted him to phone her. He laughed out loud at how obvious that thought was. Bob looked at him with head cocked, and Joseph realised he seldom laughed. Well, she knew he would have to travel to get a signal and that would have to wait until the snow stopped, or Barry came and cleared the track again. 

He spent the day writing his novel, but his thoughts kept turning towards Angela.

----- 

TEN

Friday 20 February 09

The snow lingered for two weeks, though Barry cleared the track after two days. The snow turned to rain, and then began to melt away more quickly. Joseph found his thoughts often turned towards Angela, wondering what she was doing. She had gone back to the life she knew, and to Trevor. He felt he could not blame her. She was a townie after all. Perhaps Trevor was a better partner for a woman than he was. Joseph's wife had never looked back, had she?

Once again Joseph had settled into his daily routines, but somehow life was not so calm for him anymore. Once the snow had gone it was time to send the pigs to the abattoir. He did not mind that part, it was seeing the empty sty, clearing and thoroughly disinfecting it, and having to do that in the dead of winter that he found irksome and uncomfortable.

For one thing, her car sat before the cottage reminding him daily of her. He wondered why she had not come to collect it. Perhaps she was embarrassed to meet him again after what had happened. Any day he was absent from the small holding, he expected the car to be gone, but there it remained. Trevor's car was still there also.

It was on the second Saturday after Trevor had been taken off to hospital with Angela in tow, that another car was seen arriving along the track. Joseph did not recognise it. He waited by the open front door for it to draw to a halt and disgorge its passengers, for there were two occupants.

His face broke into a wry smile as he saw that the passenger was Angela, and the driver was an ash blonde with a Scandinavian look about her. He was happy to see Angela again, but understood immediately that she had really only come to collect her car. Perhaps Trevor had put a time limit on the visit and insisted on a chaperone. He chided himself at that: she needed someone to drive her to collect the car. What was wrong with him, he asked himself. He did not wait for an answer.

"Angela!" he smiled with enthusiasm, "You came back. Come for the car?"

She hugged him to her and kissed his cheek, "For the car and to see you again. I seem to be fated to leave you unexpectedly." 

She indicated Greta, "Joseph may I introduce Greta, my best friend. Greta this is Joseph."

"So this is the man you've been raving about?" Greta said with a mischievous grin as she extended her hand.

Joseph took it. She's been raving about me? and his spirits soared. He felt like a teenage boy who'd been told the girl he had a crush on fancied him. He cast a glance at Angela whose face was suffused with embarrassment. So it was true! He laughed inwardly.

"Pleased to meet you Greta." 

He felt unaccountably giddy, but controlled himself as they shook hands.

"I told Greta all about your place here," Angela said, recovering her equilibrium. "Would you give her the tour?"

"Oh, yes please," Greta added enthusiastically. 

He was sure the blonde batted her eyelashes at him.

"Of course," Joseph said, "before or after coffee?"

"Before, while we're still dressed for outdoors," said Angela.

"Well, come through both," he said standing aside. "I'll get my coat." 

Bob came up to Greta wagging his tail, and she fondled his ears. He looked up at her adoringly and Joseph smiled but said nothing. Bob was a good judge of character.

He took them round the house and Angela prattled on to Greta about each room, while Joseph smiled and let her lead the tour. Outside, Angela allowed him to take up the descriptions and he patiently showed Greta the goats, the chickens and the fields. They came to the pigsty.

Angela looked worried. "Where are the pigs, Joseph?"

"Gone," said Joseph. "I'll be getting some new piglets next week."

The two women looked upset, but Joseph said nothing and waited on Angela. He saw light dawn in her eyes.

"Gone to the abattoir?" she asked.

"Yes, they'd reached their ideal weight."

"Don't you find it hard to do that? D'you miss them?"

"No, don't forget I send pigs to the abattoir twice a year. You can't have pork without killing pigs, Greta."

To change the subject, Angela broke in with an excited finger pointing at the wind turbines. He continued, telling Greta about his wood, which they could see in the distance, and through which they had come.

They returned inside and he took their coats to the bedroom while Angela set about making coffee for them. 

"You seem very much at home," Greta remarked with a suggestive laugh.

"Don't you feel the same?" Angela retorted, looking over her shoulder at her friend.

"Don't I feel the same as what?" Greta answered, feigning ignorance.

"Sort of feel at home here. Comfortable."

Greta looked about her. "Well, yes, I see what you mean. It's very peaceful and relaxing."

Joseph returned, and sat opposite Greta while Angela continued to make the coffee.

"There are biscuits in the square tin," he pointed out to Angela, and she dutifully put a number out on a plate, setting it and the mugs of steaming liquid before them.

"Home made?" asked Greta.

Joseph nodded. "Most things I eat, I make myself," he said.

"Are you self-sufficient?" Greta asked, "I mean do you have to buy things?"

"Partially," he answered, "Some things, like flour, butter and sugar, dried fruit, meat – that sort of thing – those I buy. Not that I eat a lot of meat. I sell goats' milk, eggs, and the pigs when they're ready, though I get some of their meat back to freeze. Fruit and Veg I store as you saw, and they keep me going most of the year."

"But you live here alone. Aren't you lonely?"

"I don't think so. I've lived here for some years, and Bob keeps me company. I see folk down at the pub, the village and in town, and Barry comes most days to collect milk and eggs for his farm shop. He usually stays for a mug of tea."

"Are you happy, Joseph?" Greta pushed. She sipped the coffee.

"Happy?" 

He thought for a moment. "Happy comes from the same root as happen. Happy comes and goes – pristine snow with a sunrise on it, sitting warm and snug while the wind batters the place, a successful day's work, yes. I'm contented, satisfied, complete, fulfilled. This is the life I chose and it works for me. Happiness is the bonus."

"But you have no contact with the outside world – no TV, no radio; hell, no phone! Aren't you bored?" She munched a biscuit, giving a moan of pleasure. "These biscuits are to die for!" she added.

The interrogation from Greta was clearly making Angela more and more uneasy, though she noticed Joseph did not seem to mind.

"Bored? No!" he answered Greta. "There is always something to do when you make your living from a smallholding, and there are my books and my writing."

"And you meditate," added Angela, sipping her coffee.

"Yes." He did not elaborate, for he remembered at that point that it was this girl, this woman, who had disrupted his meditation since she left, though he did not want to admit that out loud.

Greta excused herself to use the bathroom, leaving Angela and Joseph alone. Both independently thought Greta had a plan to leave them there together.

"How's Trev – Gerard?" Joseph asked diffidently. "Has he fully recovered?"

"I don't know," she replied, rather embarrassed at the admission. Somehow she thought he might not approve of her leaving her boyfriend in need. "We're not together any more. He was looking much better the day after we left here."

"Oh," he said. That was all. What could he say? That he was delighted that she was once again single and – was the word available? Was she – to him?

She felt discomfort and added, "It took coming here to realise that we were never really right for each other. He's simply not my type. I don't know why it took me so long."

Another silence; this time it was not comfortable. Both thought independently that Greta was taking a long time about her ablutions! 

Joseph felt uncertain and worried about her response to what he wanted to ask her, but he had to ask, and she might in any case go out of his life, which he realised was the last thing he wanted to happen. 

"Well," he broke the silence, "You came for a weekend and stayed a day, then you came for four days and stayed for two. Any chance of you coming and actually staying?" 

He smiled to lighten the question, in case it should seem resentful, which it was not.

He stopped himself from saying 'for as long as you planned' and didn't know why. Perhaps he did, deep down, but he was not so devious as to leave it ambiguous on purpose. As it was, the ambiguity was not lost on Angela who was rather more worldly.

She did not believe he was capable of such subtlety, but her heart jumped nevertheless. Whatever he meant, it was a real invitation and she knew she would take him up on it. She simply replied from her heart.

"Joseph," she said softly, "there's nothing I'd like more. I've always felt forced by circumstances to leave, but now there's nothing stopping me. I'm a single woman again. But I've no more free time from work beyond weekends until after March, then I have to negotiate."

"Next Friday?" he asked, "Stay till Sunday?"

"Love to!" she enthused.

"It's a date then!" he smiled broadly. 

His face was an open book; she knew he wanted her to come. He was not simply being hospitable. She almost knew he wanted her, and felt a surge of happiness. A date!

Greta re-entered the kitchen, affecting not to notice the broad smiles on both faces. She smiled to herself. 

"Ready to go?" she asked, with a knowing glance, "though you could stay longer; but I have to go."

"Oh, that reminds me," said Joseph. "Kev... I mean Gerard's, car is still here. He's not been in touch and I don't know his address or phone number. Could one of you ask him what he wants to do? Tell him I've put it in the barn, so it's been protected against the weather."

"I'll see him," said Greta.

"All he has to do is send a tow truck," said Joseph. "It's not in the way, but I would have thought he'd want it back."

"He's got two other cars," said Angela.

Yes, he would have, thought Joseph, and berated himself for a thought he felt was unworthy.

It seemed the right moment for Angela to leave. They stood by her car, and Greta made the first move, taking Joseph by the shoulders and kissing him fully on the lips. 

"Thanks," she said. "Thanks for all you've done for my friend, and thanks for all you're going to do." 

She winked suggestively, which disconcerted Joseph and caused him some embarrassment. He had little time to recover for Angela, given courage by Greta's action, kissed him in like manner though for longer, and this time he kissed her strongly in return which unaccountably shocked her, though it also excited her.

The two smiled at each other.

"See you Friday," Joseph said, his hands on her shoulders.

She nodded and turned to open the car door. Joseph had long since cleared the snow from its roof and bonnet, the rest having melted, and it started without any trouble.

"I'm counting the days," she said through the open window.

"So am I," he replied, not to be outdone.

The two cars moved off in convoy, and Joseph waved them off, already looking forward with some excitement to the coming weekend.

It was dampened by a visit on Tuesday.

--------- 

ELEVEN

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? We believe this complaint is 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. 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," 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.

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, ne'er worrit about that, women know what they want, and they usually get it! Let her make 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 the 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!




The Smallholder Pt. 02



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. 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 immediately 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 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 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 up 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. 

Another surprise. More than that, an arresting surprise. She realised she had never seen him in anything but working clothes. He even went to the pub in jeans, tee shirt and roll neck jumper. 

Now she could see the executive company director from the past. His dark blue trousers had a knife edge crease, the pale blue shirt open at the neck peeped from beneath a navy blazer. His hair, usually tousled was neatly combed.

"You scrub up well," she said eyeing him up and down, noticeably lasciviously she hoped. He really was gorgeous! He coloured at her appraisal and she knew she had succeeded.

"You look beautiful," he replied with a smile, "but then you always have a head start in that."

She went to him and put her arms round his neck, kissing him gently. "Thank you for all this," she said.

"Wait till you taste it," he joked, "You may change your mind."

She laughed in derision. She had tasted his cooking before, she told him. He sat her at the table and the meal began, Joseph serving her and then sitting for each course. 

She found the red wine complemented the ham and pea soup as well as the lasagne, and the sauternes was perfect for the tiramisu and for the cheese and crackers to finish. He offered her port, cognac or liqueurs with the coffee, and she opted for cognac. 

They cleared the table together and loaded the dishwasher, leaving the rest on the side next to the sink. He told her he would wash up in the morning.

He ushered her to the living room and brought the coffee and brandy on a tray, adding the chocolates from the table.

They were sitting each side of the fire, and she fervently wished Joseph had a sofa. She felt a little giddy from all the wine.

"Joseph, I'm used to men taking me out to expensive restaurants, even Michelin Star ones, but none were any better than your meal tonight. You've really pushed the boat out, flowers and a lovely meal, thank you so much."

"Well," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "You were the first person, and I mean person, to stay the night in this cottage with me in eight long years. No one I know ever needed or wanted to stay over. You are the first woman who has visited me at all, and you came twice, though both previous times it was because of someone else, and both times you had to leave early."

"I didn't want to leave," she said pensively, "either time."

"Now you've come back without any other reason than to see me," he went on. "We did say this was a date, after all. I'm not in a position to take you out, so I had try to give you a treat here at home."

He sat back and sipped his cognac. 

"I feel so much at home here," she said, "It's so peaceful and it's a house that seems to love me. I feel sort of comforted."

"Did you feel like that at home, with your parents?" he asked, out of the blue.

She looked at him questioningly.

"You said before, you remember shouting at your parents to get what you wanted. You said your father gave you money without your mother knowing. What's their relationship like?"

Angela was surprised. Joseph had listened, really listened to her, and what is more, remembered what she had said. She couldn't remember any of her previous lovers doing that. Indeed they never were all that interested in her as a person. He deserved a thoughtful answer, not a glib retort.

"I've been meditating every day since I started doing it here," she said, "and that keeps coming up. At first it seemed as if life was all arguments and struggle. Dad and Mum arguing, she finding fault with him, he telling her to get a job. I fought with Keith; we never got on. I think he resented me from an early age when I arrived. He was always creeping to mum, doing little things for her and I thought it was to get what he wanted. I got what I wanted from dad.

"Gradually I've seen other things. Most of the time we were happy, I think. They stood by me about the abortion and they do love each other. Keith and I still don't get on, he thinks I'm a slag and I think he's a prude. I don't know whether I love him or not, or whether he really loves me.

"So we were generally happy. But relaxed? Peaceful? I can't get that feeling from their house. Not like here."

"Do you go to see them?"

"Usually once a year at Christmas. Gerard was the first boyfriend I've taken home. Needless to say, Mum loved him and Dad was not very impressed. Mum always wants more; we have to keep up with the neighbours and display her success writ large."

"Do they miss you?"

It made her think. Did they? 

"I don't know," she said, "Sometimes I feel guilty I don't go and see them more often."

"Easily fixed," he said.

She remembered he had lost both parents long ago; he had no one.

"You miss your parents?" she asked, then felt guilty at probing.

"Yes," he said, "I didn't appreciate what they'd done for me until it was too late."

Once again he had implied that she needed to repair her relationships. He didn't tell her what she should do but found ways to bring her to understand what should be done. It was the delicacy with which he did it that was so endearing. He never seemed to direct, always to support and offer a way. It seemed that he immersed himself in others and almost lost himself in them, or at least in her. 

She simply knew in that moment that she wanted him.There was no concern for the future, no reservation. She just wanted to be with him.

For his part he could see her staring at him seriously. He could not tell what she was thinking, but the intensity of her stare made her look even more beautiful than before, and he was gripped with desire for her. 

Then came his own rebuttal: she would not want a recluse like him permanently and he certainly did not want a short affair or a weekend fling. 

She saw his expression change, but in her turn could not read him, though she could see he did not look happy. He looked disturbed, almost defeated. She did not know why.

"What is it Joseph?" she asked, expecting the brush off: 'nothing'. 

It did not happen. Instead she could see him thinking. She almost told him to forget it, but for some reason she did not. She waited patiently and at length he spoke.

"All week I've been looking forward eagerly to you coming this weekend. That's never happened to me since I began dating Susan. We seem to fit so easily together; we are just so comfortable with each other. I've thought about you every day; you float through my meditation every time. 

"Though your life is so different from mine, you wanted to come back here and stay longer; unfortunately Trevor interrupted it. I was happier than I ever remember when you said you'd come back this weekend, and I think you said you'd have liked to stay longer if your holiday allowance hadn't been used up. I can't understand the attraction this has for you except as some sort of holiday. Does that make any sort of sense? I just wonder what it is you want."

He sat back, wondering if he'd said too much and whether it would frighten her off. Now it was her turn to sit in thought.

What was he saying? She had felt a surge of hope when he spoke of his looking forward to her visit. It did not seem to occur to him that she wanted him, rather than the place or the quietness, though these had an attraction in themselves.

Another man might have said he was falling in love with her, she thought, they had told her that often enough and it meant little to them or to her, apart from their lust for her body or her lust for theirs. He could have said glibly that he loved her, but she knew already that that was not Joseph. 

She remembered how analytical he could be. When Greta asked if he was happy, he distinguished happiness from contentment and those other feelings. Hadn't he said in so many words that he wanted her: he thought about her every day? He felt so comfortable with her? He hadn't felt like this since Susan?

What to tell him? Easily answered: the truth. 

"Joseph," she began, "I don't think you realise what an effect you've had on me. I've never felt quite like this before. It's not the place that I've come back for, it's you. I told you I've always been selfish with the men I've been with; it was always some sort of transaction with them. Even with Trevor it was what he could give me, but I never gave myself to him totally, or to anyone else; never total commitment of the heart - I never thought any of them would be permanent, nor did I want them to be. Perhaps it was too great a risk.

"With you, I don't want anything from you. I don't want clubs, restaurants, foreign holidays, parties. I've done all that, and it's never realIy satisfied. I don't know where this will lead in the end, but I'm open for the first time to go wherever it leads. I want us to get closer and deeper. I suppose it's another way of saying that I'm beginning to fall in love with you. So I want to be where you are, go where you go, just be with you, that's all."

Joseph replied, quietly reflective, " 'Wherever you go I will go; wherever you will live, I will live; your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Wherever you die, I shall die, and there I shall be buried.' "

"Pardon?"

"It's a quotation from the Book of Ruth in the Bible," he explained. "She is a sort of lesson in faithfulness: she left her own country, culture and religion to care for her mother after both their men had died leaving them widows. She would not abandon the older woman."

"What's the story?"

"You want the whole thing? It would be better to read it."

"Tell me the outline and I'll go and read it afterwards."

"She left her own culture and homeland and went with Naomi, her mother, to care for her. She committed herself to Naomi; she would never return to her own home.

"When they reached Naomi's country and her place, a relative of Naomi, called Boaz, noticed Ruth and I think he immediately fancied her. Then he found she was a widow, a relative of his by marriage, and that she had supported Naomi on her journey home, leaving her own country and family. He was so impressed by her character that he found ways to help her.

"Naomi realised this was an opportunity. She told Ruth to wait until Boaz went to sleep and then slip into his bed with him. She did so, he awoke, and seeing who it was, covered her with his cloak; in their society that was a sign that he loved her and would marry her.

"There's a lot more to the story; you can read it in the Bible."

"I'd like to read it," she said. "Is it a long book?"

"The Bible? It's huge!" he grinned.

"No, idiot, Ruth!"

"No, it's one of the shortest in the Bible, just before 1 Samuel," he said, still smiling. "There's a Bible in the study."

She immediately got up and went to the study, found the Bible and the story. She brought it back to the living room and settled to read it.

Joseph was left with his own thoughts. What was it she said? It was he for whom she had returned, that she was falling in love with him? How could she after so short at time? Even with such misgivings his heart jumped at the thought. 

Perhaps I'm falling for her as well, he thought. It was a happy thought, and he felt content.

She had questions about Jewish marriage customs and land transfers, and their discussion went on until Joseph said it was time for bed. 

Angela agreed, "No meditation tonight."

"No meditation," he replied, then after a moment's thought, "We've just done a sort of joint med."

------- 

TWELVE

She lay in bed, quite still, in her silk pyjamas, but she was not going to go to sleep. She had a plan.

They had stood opposite one another at her room doorway after she had used the bathroom.

"Good night," he had said.

She had pulled him to her and kissed him and he responded. They pressed their bodies together and his hands roved over her back, hers in his hair which pushed her breasts against him, her nipples prodding his chest. They broke and she kissed his throat downwards, until she reached his open shirt. She looked up at him.

"Good night," she said. It was on the tip of her tongue to say 'I love you', but she somehow couldn't say it. The three words had a weight she had never felt before; she had often used the phrase lightly. She could not do that with Joseph.

They had disengaged and she entered her bedroom, and with the door ajar (for Bob, she told herself), she stripped and put on her pyjamas, and then climbed into bed.

Bob had plodded in after Joseph had let him out for his toilet break, and had made himself comfortable. She had heard Joseph prowling round the house locking doors, making up stoves to last the night and putting out lights. Then she heard him in the bathroom, then walking up the stairs. 

She waited a further ten minutes, and then slipped from the bed. Bob raised his head and then relaxed again. She stepped lightly up the stairs in the darkness, quietly opened his door and entered his room. The room was quite dark but there was a moon that night and with the curtains opened, it gave enough light for her to see which side of the bed he was on.

Her heart was beating rapidly and she felt a little afraid: this could go horribly wrong. She steeled herself and walked to 'her' side of the bed, lifting the duvet and climbing into bed.

Joseph had his back to her, but was only half asleep. He came to full consciousness with a start.

"Wha? Ugh? Who? Angela! What are you doing?"

It was at that moment, as she touched him, that she realised something. He was certainly naked above the waist! No wonder he was flummoxed! 

"Ssh!" she crooned, "It's all right. I'm only doing what Ruth did in the story. You don't have a cloak to spread over me, so you don't have to marry me. You don't have to do anything at all, except..."

He turned to face her in the dark. She could just make out his face. He was confused. "Huh?"

"All you have to do is cuddle me. Hug me. Then you can go to sleep with me. I love you Joseph, where you go, I go. OK?"

Silence, then his hand was on her side as she lay facing him, a gentle pull. She scooted into his arms and he held her fast, her head on his shoulder, his arm round her shoulders, as she stroked his naked side. His free hand caressed her back from shoulder to the small of her back, but no further.




The Smallholder Pt. 02



"I haven't got a cloak, so the duvet will have to do," he said with a chuckle as he pulled it over them both.

"This bed is not lumpy!" she chastised him.

"I changed the mattress this week," he said with another chuckle. 

She let out an exasperated sigh of reproach, and allowed her hand to glide over his hip and onto his thigh. Yes, it was true, he was indeed completely nude. Starkers! Naked! She gave a little moan of pleasure and desire, and decided that tomorrow night she would imitate him. She stroked his chest, twisting the hairs she found there round her fingers.

"You need to sleep," she told him. "Good night, my love."

Kiss. He felt more than just a stirring down below. She felt it too. She sighed.

"Good night, sweetheart," he replied, and it gave her such a warm giddy feeling. She gave a little moan of happiness.

They disengaged and soon fell asleep facing each other.

Joseph awoke in the darkness, not needing an alarm. In any case he had silenced it as soon as Angela had arrived in his bed.

It must have taken all of two seconds between him thinking, hardly-awake, that Susan was in the bed, then traversing eight years as he wondered who it was and finally realising it was Angela, remembering her arrival at the house the previous night. He carefully turned to face her, having awoken with his back to her. The moon had set and he could hardly make out her face.

He lay on his back for a while, revelling in the warmth and comfort of another body with him in the bed and the emotional warmth of her protestations of love the night before. She was some woman – imaginative, clever, open-hearted and, he reckoned, single minded, not to mention her astounding good looks now denied him in dark of the early winter's morning.

He slid out of bed so as not to wake her, gathered his clothes and made his way down the stairs. Bob was sitting patiently by the front door, watching his master putting on his clothes. Joseph realised it was later than usual, already six fifteen. He let Bob out, knowing the dog would come round to the back door when the front was not opened to his scratching.

He went through the kitchen and restocked with wood from the outside store, filling the cooker and the stoves in the kitchen and living room, before letting Bob back in and settling for a shorter meditation than usual. He was expecting to have all sorts of ideas about what had happened the night before, but instead he sank easily into stillness and peacefulness. There was a sense of completeness, fulness, in his wordless mind and exhilaration too. His timer went off all to soon and he arose feeling happier, he realised, than he had for many a long year and that it was down to the sleeping woman upstairs.

It was while he was seeing to the goats and collecting the eggs, that doubts began to creep in. The hurt that Susan's rejection of him had done came to the fore and he wondered if he could stand it happening again if he let Angela into his life. Angela might believe she had fallen in love with him, but he came back again and again to the fact they had only known each other for a few weeks and had only been in physical contact for a few days!

It was in a different emotional state that he returned to the house with the milk and the eggs.

Barry arrived and took one look at him. 

"Problems?" he asked.

"I'm not used to women," answered Joseph with a shrug.

"Didn't give yer the 'let's just be friends' routine?"

"She came to my bed, climbed in and spent the night there. We've only seen each other for four days, Barry. Four days!"

"Bloody hell!" 

Joseph could have sworn that Barry looked impressed.

"Nothing happened," he hastened to add. "I'm not ready to commit that far!"

"That's the way things are nowadays," Barry said. "Elaine goes out with some lad and I know she's shagging him after a couple of dates. It's just fun apparently."

"Not for me," said Joseph. 

There was a moment of silence and then both men burst out laughing. They both realised what Joseph had said. It seemed sex was a real chore for Joseph!

"Nay, I ken what tha means," Barry said, more seriously. "But women... well. Mary said she knew fer certain she wanted to marry me after the first date. She'd walked out wi' a number of blokes, but when she met me, she said she 'just knew'."

"I 'just wonder' about her," Joseph confided. "She lives in a posh flat, got a good job from what I can tell – her car's new, and her clothes aren't cheap. She likely to stay with me here, miles from anywhere? She'd soon tire of this life, you think?"

"And there's Susan isn't there?" Barry asked, now all seriousness.

Joseph looked at him in surprise. "All those hours on that tractor of yours, they've made you a wise man, Barry. Yes, there is that. Bitten once. I was certain she would never change when we married and look what happened. I don't know if I could commit that far again. Risky."

"You don't have to," Barry asserted. "Take your time. Let her come weekends. Get Elaine in, you know she loves to babysit the place, and go see the maid in her own place. If she's worth it, she'll wait. If not, you've lost nowt."

"Thanks Barry," Joseph smiled, "I needed that – a bit of balance, a bit of sense."

They sat supping their tea, while Barry munched his toast. They were comfortable with the silence, the farmer and the small-holder. They relied on each other, and Barry and Mary were the only people with whom he had shared his life-story.

At that moment Angela entered the kitchen.

She was still wearing the ivory coloured silk pyjamas. They clung to her figure, outlining her buttocks in their rounded perfection, and the crease between, the top hung from her breasts, her nipples defined by the fabric. Her hair was still tousled from her night's sleep. It was the perfection of woman.

"Good morn..." she stopped, seeing the visitor.

Joseph, who had his back to the door, looked round. His eyes took in all her feminine charms and he stirred below. 

"Angela," he said, recovering himself, "This is Barry Denton, Barry – Angela."

Neither Angela nor Joseph could miss the effect Angela had on Barry. They saw his jaw slacken and then his effort to stop gaping at the déshabillé vision of womanly beauty. 

"Er, 'ow d'you do?" Barry stammered, rising to his feet, toast in hand. Angela held out a hand to shake, and Barry unwittingly offered the toast, corrected himself, changed the toast to his left hand and shook her proffered right hand. She smiled.

"Pleased to meet you, Barry," she said, smiling at his discomfort, and sat down at the table, pouring tea into the third mug which Joseph had put out ready to take to her in bed.

"Likewise I'm sure," he replied with a grin. "This hermit looking after yer proper?"

"Very proper," she laughed, "and he's a superb cook."

"Never had the chance to be poisoned by 'im," Barry said with a straight face, "but I can tell thee, thou've made a big impression on 'im – he's bin almost human this week. Well, best be off. See yer again Angela, I 'ope."

Joseph noticed Barry's accent had broadened; the man was overawed by Angela, and Joseph knew why. He remembered her effect on him when he first saw her in the house.

Angela had noticed Joseph had looked solemn as the brief conversation between herself and Barry continued. 

As soon as Barry had shut the door, Joseph said, "I'll get some breakfast; do you want to get dressed? Then I think we need to talk."

Angela felt a stab of fear. She had gone too far the night before, joining him in bed. Now she felt mortified at her effrontery in doing so.

"Joseph, I'm so sorry," she gabbled. " I should never have-"

He stopped her. 

"No, don't get upset," he hastened to intercept her, "I'm not upset you came to bed, but I do think we need to talk about it a little, don't you?"

She nodded as relief swept through her. 

"Breakfast first," he said, "You getting dressed?"

She nodded again, her happiness returning, and went to change. She returned in jeans and a tee shirt.

After breakfast, and clearing away, they sat back at the table with mugs of tea.

Joseph started, "I'm not upset, I'm confused. The first time we met you stayed overnight and went the next morning. The second time, you stayed for two days and nights. This time you've been here one night so far. Four days, and you say you're falling in love and you come to my bed. I don't understand."

"I just wanted to be with you, that's all."

"But say last night when you came to bed I'd turned to you and make it clear I wanted to make love, what would you have done?"

"I'd have taken off my pyjamas and we would have."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand that. Four days, Angela?"

She felt uneasy. She was simply following her desires. She wanted whatever he would give her in terms of closeness. 

"If I'd been at home," she said, trying to explain, "and some guy picked me up in a night club, and he was nice and turned me on, he would naturally try to have sex that night, but I'm not like that. I'm not easy, Joseph.

"But it's normal among my friends to have sex on the third date, if the man respects you and is nice. You would make him use a condom, and then the relationship would go from there. It's the way things are. If I wasn't sure of him, I'd not let it go any further than kissing, until I was."

"So you don't need any commitment – any expectation that it would be going somewhere?"

"Joseph, how many dates did you and Susan have, before you had sex?"

Joseph thought for a moment, "It was about three months. We'd been going out about once or twice a week."

"Who made the running?"

"It wasn't like that. We gradually got more and more intense, and eventually she told me she'd been on the pill for two months. By then we'd got as far as giving each other orgasms by hand and then orally, and we felt we were settled with each other. We moved in together and then we made love."

"Oh." Angela was taken aback. "You must think I'm a real slag."

Joseph didn't reply directly. "For me," he said quietly, "sex means deep intimacy and implies commitment. It's sacred – a gift of your whole self; you can't give someone more."

"Was it always like that for you?"

"As a teenager, no it wasn't. At first I just wanted to do it, and found enough willing girls of my own age. It was dangerous – we were not always protected. Then I met a girl called Leanne and everything changed. She and I made friends first, and had a lot of common interests, and we grew together. We were at university. Suddenly sex had a different meaning, it sort of cemented our love for each other. After that I didn't want casual sex any more: it was meaningless and I wanted it to have meaning."

"Joseph, over the past few years I've only been with two men, and one of them was Gerard. They had to wait a lot longer than three dates before we got that close."

"So what--"

"With you everything's different. I've never felt like this before.

"That first weekend I was simply in awe of you. You were like some guru, collected, wise, balanced and self-reliant like no man I'd ever known. The second week I came back because I couldn't keep away; you fascinated me, and you told me your story. You taught me to meditate. Then the way you treated Gerard! I still can't grasp how you could have such self-control, such strength. 

"I just want to be with you. I'm falling in love, and I can't believe I'm being this open and frank with you, but I know you're not as sure about me – yet.

"I want to come every weekend. I want to learn how to care for you and the animals. I want to work with you in the fields and the wood. I want to cook for you – and I can cook you know.

"I want to share your bed, tonight, and whenever I'm here, unless you tell me otherwise. I will be content with hugs and cuddles, kisses and togetherness, if that's all you offer." 

She looked at him. He was staring at her in wonder. Then he stirred.

"Well," and he smiled so warmly that she ached, "I asked, and you held nothing back. I love that about you, you are transparent to me of your own volition. So I have to reply as openly.

"You are so beautiful that like any other man I desire you. At a basic caveman level I want to grab you and take you straight to bed. 

"But there's more to life than that. I want you to be happy. You're right about me not being sure about you. The worry I have is that once these first impressions are over, you will find that life with me is in fact dull, boring, repetitive, unfulfilling and sheer hard work. You see?"

"Joseph, I know you love me, you show that all the time. I want you to be sure of me, and only time will do that. Can't we just see if it can work out between us?"

He looked surprised, thought and then smiled and nodded. 

"You're right, of course you are, so we play it by ear? Take it slowly."

"Exactly. We just let it develop."

Angela left the table went round to Joseph, lifted his face and kissed him tenderly, then she disappeared to her bedroom, leaving him to clear everything away. The kiss shocked him, it was so obviously loving and hinted at passion, and it filled him with the contentment she seemed to bring that he had long since forgotten. He briefly wondered at her sudden departure since she usually insisted on helping, but when she returned all became clear.

She had on an old pullover, a gilet, a battered pair of jeans that were nonetheless skin tight, and she was carrying a pair of yellow wellington boots with a flowery pattern.

"What...?" asked Joseph, beginning to laugh.

She coloured and pouted. 

"I told you," she said patiently. "I want to get involved in your life and work. What has to be done this weekend?"

Joseph laughed, saw her face and made a forlorn effort to stop laughing. 

"Sorry," he gulped hastily, "I'm laughing because I covered everything except milking the goats and collecting the eggs, so we'd have a free weekend together. I had no plans beyond you. I wasn't expecting this enthusiasm of yours."

She relaxed, tried to scowl at him and failed, went to the back porch and deposited her small boots alongside his large ones. 

"Ok," she said, "what did you have in mind for me?" and there was that devilish smile.

Joseph was looking at her jeans and how clearly they defined her shape, especially at the crotch. 'Goat's hoof' came to his mind, but it would, rather than 'camel toe'.

"I thought we might go walking," he said, "or go to town."

She saw where his eyes were focussed and felt a frisson of excitement, knowing she was having an effect on him. She affected not to notice but made a suggestion.

"How about we walk the boundary of your land, and then you train me to do the daily jobs around the animals for when I come at weekends?"

"You'll need a coat, as well as that waistcoat," he said, and wondered if he was more concerned that she would be cold or so he could keep some emotional equilibrium. As he watched her retreating bottom leave the room, he smilingly thought the latter. However her coat, more a jacket really, allowed her tightly encased rear to remain on show. He shrugged inwardly and thought he did not mind too much after all. There was a lightness of spirit about him and he knew it was she who had liberated it.

That is what they did. The walk took longer than she expected as the extent of his land became clear, and they were walking on fields and crossing dry-stone walls rather than walking along roads. He explained he had a small tractor and mechanised tools as well as a rotavator, and that Barry did what ploughing and harrowing was needed on a larger scale. When they returned to the yard, he took her round the animal sheds and barns, and gave her a course in animal husbandry.

"What jobs can I do?" she asked, "I mean this weekend."

"Easiest is collecting the eggs," he replied with a twinkle in his eye. "I can teach you how to milk the goats – they will appreciate a woman's touch."

"Go on!" laughed Angela. "You're having me on!"

"No," Joseph assured her, "They are intelligent and even playful, and Sue and Sonia both seem to take to women very easily."

"But you said you've not had a woman-"

"Elaine comes over often and looks after them. They love her."

"Will you teach me to milk them?"

"Of course," he said, " You'll notice that Susan always comes for milking before Sonia. Susan is in charge. If you stroke them, always stroke Susan first or she'll get upset. Susan has ways of showing her displeasure!" and he laughed and would say no more.

Back in the house he found a vinyl glove and made a pin prick in the longest finger. Then he filled the finger with water. 

"This is a teat," he said. "You do not pull on a goat's teat. It is not a man's penis. If you pull it you'll get a kick, and it hurts, believe me. You squeeze."

He showed her how to squeeze the glove's finger and Angela was delighted when the finger squirted the water. He taught her how she would have to swab the teats and the udder, and how she should apply a teat dip afterwards. 

Later that evening she succeeded in milking Susan under Joseph's tutelage, though her hands got tired and Joseph finished off in her stead. She was surprised that it was so hard on the fingers and Joseph said she needed to keep doing it to develop resilience.

They had an evening meal and then walked with Bob to the pub. She took his hand in hers and he did not pull away, he looked at her and smiled for it felt right, and she looked up at him and he could see it was a loving look. They walked the whole way hand in hand.

Angela was welcomed and comments were made about Joseph's 'girlfriend' which he made no effort to deny, which in turn evinced some rather ribald laughter. Joseph simply smiled more broadly, and Angela for her part coloured and grinned and tucked her arm in his. More laughter. Then everyone settled down and she was left in peace. 

Joseph bought the first round. Sam nodded towards Angela who was chatting with one of the older men.

"She's back then?" 

"Aye," said Joseph.

"Doing you some good," the landlord opined. "Not seen you as cheerful before."

"She's only been here five days in all," Joseph said, "but she grows on you."

"You reckon on her staying? For good?"

"Too early. We'll see." 

Joseph took her half and his pint to their table.

When it came time to reorder, Angela insisted on paying her way and went to the bar, where she was served by Violet.

As Violet pulled the beer, she eyed Angela.

"You've come back then, and not just for our beer," she said with a smile.

"Yes," Angela said. "Both previous visits were cut short."

"I heard," Violet retorted. "Boyfriend of yours got caught in the snow."

"Ex," said Angela. "Joseph was very good to him, saved his life."

"Look after yon man," Violet said. "He's a bit special. I always thought he was a little bit sad all the years he's been here. He's smiling more now. Don't let him down, love."

"I won't," Angela asserted, "He's like no other man I've ever met."

"You can say that again," agreed Violet, as she gave Angela her change.

------ 

THIRTEEN

They began the walk back hand In hand, then she needed to blow her nose and afterwards tucked her arm in his. He could feel the softness of her breast against his arm and it felt good. As they rounded the two bends after the woods and were in sight of the house he put his arm round her shoulder and hers fell to his hip; it brought them closer together. The journey had been completed in near silence.

By silent agreement he went straight to the goats and chickens and she to the kitchen, where she made two mugs of cocoa.

He came through the kitchen door, which she had unlocked for him. He saw the cocoa.

"Bedtime?" he asked; it was ten thirty.

She nodded.




The Smallholder Pt. 02



"Together?" he asked.

She nodded again.

"Your place or mine?" she asked. 

"I think yours tonight," he said. "Nearer the bathroom. I'll put the house to bed."

She took the cocoa into the bedroom, then used the bathroom. Remembering the previous night, she stripped off and climbed naked into bed, sitting up and pulling the duvet over her breasts. She was sipping her cocoa when he arrived.

He was wearing a teeshirt and boxer shorts, clearly the only bed wear he had.

"What's that?" she asked, nodding at his clothes.

"I've got no pyj..."

She let the duvet slip, showing her top half to him. His eyes widened.

"Joseph," she said seductively, "Last night you didn't need any. I don't think you need any tonight either."

Then she stared at his body pointedly. He looked mildly embarrassed, then shrugged, smiled and pulled off the teeshirt.

"And the rest," she said with a sexy smile.

He pushed them down and stood before her naked. She sighed as she appraised his hard body, and rising penis. 

"Come on," she said, throwing the duvet open and revealing her own nakedness to him. He in turn stopped and gazed at her body, then shook himself and climbed into bed pulling the quilt over them both.

"Drink your cocoa," she told him, "or it'll get cold."

"Yes, Mum," he said and actually giggled: she started with surprise at this new sound and burst out laughing, and something changed between them. He finished his drink and she did also. They both put their mugs down on their own side of the bed, then turned to each other in one synchronous movement, saw what they had done and laughed again.

They were both smiling and relaxed as they came to each other's arms. They kissed gently as they sank down onto the pillows, arms round each other. The kiss went on and on, and became more and more heated. Hands began to rage over bodies, stroking, though never on erogenous areas, as if keeping a respectful distance.

As their lips parted, Joseph whispered, "Should we be doing this Angela? Is this right?"

"Have you noticed," she responded obliquely, "You always call me Angela and I always call you Joseph? All my boyfriends called me Angie and I know people call you Joe."

"Yes," he said, smiling into her eyes, "I've noticed. What do you think it is?"

"I know I don't want to call you Joe. For me you are not a Joe, you are Joseph."

"But why?" He stroked her cheek and forehead, running fingers through her hair.

"I think it's..." and she searched for the word, "I think for me it's reverence. I respect you so much. Your name is beautiful: 'God shall add'." 

"God already has," he replied and smiled that smile that turned her on so much. 

She pulled him to her and kissed him deeply.

"Should we be doing this, you asked," she said reflectively. "Why shouldn't we? You love me, I love you. Do you feel uneasy?"

"No," he said, "I feel completely at ease with you here. Even naked. But..."

She was still pressed against him and he could feel the prick of her nipples against his chest and her mound against his own prick. He felt her move against him sinuously, scraping his chest with her breasts and exciting his sex with her downey mons. 

By silent agreement they did not take things further. Joseph's 'but' was enough to tell her that he was not ready to take a further step. It was enough, she thought, to be enfolded in each other; she would wait until he was ready.

In the absence of further sexual progress, they slept. It seemed to come upon them suddenly, and before he knew it, it was early morning, dark, five thirty. The body next to him had her back to him, and his erection was nestling in the crack of her behind. It was a good warming feeling, and he did not want to move. He sighed and carefully moved away from her and slid out of bed. She did not move. He smiled; she was a sound sleeper and would find it difficult to rise early.

Bob raised his head and padded out of the room to await release by the front door. Joseph dressed and began his daily routine, letting Bob out and waiting for the scratch to tell him the dog wanted to be let in again. Then he stoked up the various fires, set the kettle to boil, and did half an hour's meditation. He felt at peace and contented, and centred quickly.

At six fifteen he went out into a fine dry but cold morning, the eastern sky just beginning to lighten, and returned a hour later with the churn and the eggs. As he entered the kitchen, he was arrested by the sight of a nude woman pouring him a mug of tea. 

He had caught a glimpse of her the previous night as she welcomed him to her bed, and he had felt the soft warmth of her naked body, but now he was transfixed by her slender and curvaceous flesh, her tight, rounded buttocks, her proud breasts, gently rounded stomach with its neat navel, and her slim waist and elegantly shaped calves and thighs. His eyes focussed on the soft thatched triangle with its gentle mound. He was enthralled and his penis hardened and rose.

She stood and let him devour her with his eyes, smiling all the while. He saw her eyes drop to the bulge in his jeans, and then rise to meet his gaze, full of love and affection. Her tongue emerged and absently licked round her lips. 

He wanted her then. It was nothing but animal desire, a basic need to take her and ravish her, knowing she would accept him and want him to take her.

"Tea?" she said, putting the mug on the table, almost laughing at him and breaking the spell.

"Thanks," he said, coming to himself again, then out of devilment, "I think that's Barry arriving."

She gave a little shriek and began to run for the cover of the bedroom. He watched the muscles in her bottom and legs, entranced by the beauty of the action.

"It isn't!" he called. "He's not due for another half hour!"

She turned and walked back, striding towards him, her firm breasts hardly swaying as she came.

"Pig!" she scolded, making to pummel his chest. He was powerless, with a churn in one hand the the basket of eggs in the other.

"Careful!" he warned, "the eggs!"

"Put them down," she barked with a malicious look in her eye.

He put the basket on the table and the churn in the floor, Standing to face her, hands by his sides, waiting for punishment. Now she drummed her fists against his hard chest, her breasts jiggling as each blow fell. 

"Thanks for the compliment," he laughed, as she finished her assault, "I happen to think my pigs are highly intelligent and quite handsome." His hands were on his hips and his expression cheeky.

She looked at him in exasperation, sighed, gave him one last hard punch on the shoulder, and left the room to dress, giving him a repeat of her wonderful body in motion. He smiled, it was good to have her around, and she was turning out to be fun. Perhaps indispensable?

He set to to box the eggs and make breakfast and heard the shower running. Barry arrived. They had just sat down at the kitchen table when she arrived in the room. She was wearing a form fitting pullover and sprayed on jeans and Joseph could tell from her grin that it was mischievously designed to disconcert Barry. It worked; once again he was tongue-tied for a moment or two.

"Still 'ere then?" he asked. "Yon's not driven thee away?"

"Nay," said Joseph, "but she's getting bossy and violent."

"Settlin' in then!" quipped Barry.

She snorted in reply and said nothing for a moment, then "He needs taking in hand."

Both men laughed and she coloured, realising her thoughtless innuendo.

"I need tea," she said to cover her embarrassment, and poured it, sitting at the table with them.

The men talked farming and the weather. Angela was silent, listening as she imbibed the terminology and politics of the job.

Once Barry had gone, Angela asked if Joseph was going to church. He said he had thought not, but she asked if they could, so they did. Angela loved the little old ladies who buttonholed her and told her what a 'nice, nice' man he was, and was she his girlfriend? For his part, Joseph was gratified that she was trying to join him in every part of his life.

The rest of the day was normal and ordinary. They made lunch together, washed up together, went for an afternoon brisk walk in the sunshine, and read in front of the fire as the darkness fell. They did not talk about their relationship any more, but simply lived together. Both had accepted things would move at their own pace.

Angela insisted she try to milk Susan and succeeded in completing the task. Susan seemed to take to Angela and Joseph smiled as he milked Sonia.

Then it was time for her to go. They kissed and hugged at length before she left with a promise to be back the following Friday.

Both had similar feelings. As Angela drove she felt such happiness that she drove singing out loud. It had been the best weekend of her life, she thought. Never had she felt so sure that her life had been leading to this man and the life he led. No man had ever made her feel that way. It occurred to her that previously she would feel frustrated by their naked cuddles in bed without completion, but on the contrary, she felt quite fulfilled. 

Joseph went to the living room and sat down heavily. He thought back to Susan and their life together from when they first met, through their wedding and the birth of Sonia. He had been so happy with her, but he could not remember a strength of feeling and desire such as he had for this woman who had come so suddenly into his life. Her eagerness to enter fully into his life deeply touched him and already he longed for the following weekend.

------ 

FOURTEEN

Mon 2 – Fri 6 March 09

Next morning, it was back to normal for Joseph. It was a wet week with fresh winds, but he ignored it and worked on, coming home soaking wet most days. On Tuesday and Wednesday, British Telecom replaced the overhead land line, and on Thursday they connected him. He was surprised they had acted so quickly; their reputation for delay was widespread. They told him he was a business and was in a remote area which qualified him for urgent attention; that, and of course the fact he was paying for the work in full!

He realised he did not have a phone handset, but he was able to connect his laptop to the broadband, from which he was able to set up a Skype account.

His first inclination was to email Angela, before he remembered he did not know her email address. He had her phone number, but somehow felt reluctant to use it. In any case he had too much to do than to be fiddling with his new toy.

Barry delivered the two piglets on Thursday, and he bedded them in and fed them.

Friday morning dawned very cold and dry, with clear skies, and he knew he had to muck out the chicken house thoroughly. Of all the jobs round the smallholding, this was the one he hated most. He wore his mask and worked through the morning, taking breaks when he ammonia drove him out. By lunchtime he was finished and all was clean and fresh in the ladies' house, and there was an additional pile of chicken manure to add to the heap which would mature over the year for the fields.

He made his way back to the house, and decided to have a long shower to rid himself of the clinging stink of ammonia. Then he would prepare for Angela's arrival.

He was drying off when Bob began to bark excitedly. Joseph hurriedly completed his drying, and wrapped the towel round his waist. As he opened the bathroom door he heard a woman's voice in the kitchen. Angela!

He emerged from the bathroom as she left the kitchen. They faced each other in the hallway, she in her outdoor coat against the cold outside and he in a towel.

"Angela!"

"Joseph!"

They gazed at each other, and a knowing smile crossed Angela's face.

"I'm early," she said to his unasked question. "I worked overtime during the week to get the afternoon off. I couldn't wait to get back to you."

As she spoke she looked pointedly at his towel then allowed her gaze to slowly traverse his body to his face. The look was lascivious and sultry. 

As she did so, she slowly shed her coat, allowing it to fall to the floor. She followed this by unbuttoning her skirt and sliding the zip down. With a wiggle the garment slid to join the coat. It revealed a pair of lace boy-shorts, and black lace-top thigh-highs. 

"Angela," he stuttered, "What are you doing?"

She grasped the hem of her blouse and lifted it slowly over her head and off. The bra matched the knickers.

"I would have thought that would be obvious; I feel over-dressed," she smiled, nodding at his towel and moving towards him, putting her arms round his unresisting neck and bestowing on him a blistering kiss, sliding her lips over his, and allowing them to fall open. Tongues met and licked. His arms went round her bare waist, and pressed her against him. She felt his erection as it pushed the towel outwards.

She broke from him and walked away towards the bedroom, her hips swaying. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Coming?" she asked. He followed, the bulge in his towel pointing the way.

She reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, letting it fall forward and off her breasts. Then she slid the wispy pants down her thighs, kicked off her high heeled boots, and climbed onto the bed, kneeling up before him. He stopped before her, looking unsure, about to ask a question – she could tell.

"Come on Joseph," she sighed sensuously, "I've been thinking, no longing, about this and you all week."

He took in her firm body, pert breasts, neatly trimmed pubis, and stocking encased thighs and calves. She now reclined against the bed-head, her arms stretched across it, tightening her breasts, her legs slightly apart and he was seized with lust for her. There was not other word for it: lust!

His towel dropped and he clambered onto the bed next to her, taking her head in his hands and kissing her forehead, eyes, cheeks, nose, chin and finally her lips, ravaging them with his own. She gave a little moan of pleasure, and kissed him back hard.

She broke the kiss and sat up, kissing his hairy chest, and nibbling his nipples. He exhaled loudly, and pushed her gently back as he began to kiss and nip at her breasts.

"Oh, Joseph," she moaned, "Oh, so good!"

He kissed onward downward, digging his tongue into her navel in his way to her trimmed furry mound. She opened her legs wide. At the back of his mind there was a little voice counselling restraint, but like Angela, he had been longing for her return, and after their encounter outside the bathroom, there was now no way back.

He slid off the side of the bed, pulling her by her legs with him, until she was at the edge and his face was between her thighs and his face pressed against her sex. Her hands went to his head, combing his hair with her fingers, and pulling at his scalp.

He continued with his lively tongue until she cried out loudly as her climax took her, and she bucked against his face.

When she had quietened, she pulled him up and they kissed gently. She moved on her back onto the middle of the bed, and he followed until they lay beside each other, he leaning over her. She turned to him and kissed him again and at length, her hands stroking his back, and over his bottom, tracing its curves.

"Joseph, darling," she whispered, "I want you now."

"Do you think..."

"Joseph, we've thought enough. I'm desperate. I know what I want. I want you. Now, please?" She tugged at him to cover her as she pleaded.

He knew he couldn't resist her, and reared over her on straight arms, settling between her legs. She reached for him and fed him to her, and with a thrust of her hips engaged him. He was lost, and pushed deeper and deeper, until he could go no further. They were completely conjoined. She pulled him down onto his elbows.

"Yes!" she exhaled, "that's where you should be! I love you so much, my Joseph!"

"I never thought..." he began, "I didn't believe... I don't know how you can-"

"Lover," she interrupted with a concentrated expression, "Enough talk! Finish what you've started," and she twitched her hips in invitation.

He smiled lovingly into her eyes as he began to move. He moved slowly out and all the way in; he moved about inside her in ways she had not experienced before, all the time gazing at her, and the depth of love in those eyes and the feelings they aroused were almost too much for her to bear. He was loving her as no one ever had before, increasing his pace little by little. 

It brought her back to her peak again and she came deeply and thoroughly, but more gently than the first time. The feelings went on and on, until her lover groaned and she felt the irregular throbbing as he came. She felt as if he were giving her his life. She hoped so.

Their noises, hers high pitched and his guttural, were wordless and they remained wordless as the intensity of their climaxes receded until they simply lay spent together, joined and wrapped around each other.

"Well," she said at length, disentangling herself and leaning up on one elbow with a grin, "Anything to say? Are you sorry? Worried?"

He fell back, lying on his back, gazing up at her. 

"No," he said, "no worries; I'm not sorry, how could I be?"

A silence. Then she spoke again tentatively. "I don't think you want to know this, but I have to say it." She stopped.

"Go on,' he prompted.

"I used to be with Trevor," he noticed she used the name he knew the man by, "and now I'm with you. Whatever prompted Susan to leave, it wasn't your lack of ability to make sweet love, and if she stayed away it certainly wasn't his prowess. You are a much better lover. You're much, much better. That's all."

Silence.

"You're not upset I said that?" she asked after some moments.

"No, no," he said, "Every man wants to know he's good in bed. I think she couldn't cope with all the tragedy; not everyone can. In the end I couldn't either."

"I want you to know," she said softly, "I've never felt so loved. Never."

He said nothing but smiled, feeling as if his heart was filling. He caught her hand and held it. He pulled it to his lips and kissed it.

Then after a long pause. 

"You know," he said, staring at the ceiling, "For the last eight years I thought I was fine, but I realise now I was living a half life. Then you came. I've never been happier."

She snuggled into him with a happy little noise and he turned to her, enfolding her in his arms. She played with the hairs on his chest, twisting them and combing them through her fingers. He caressed her back, and her side, brushing her breast. Both felt supremely peaceful. They both slept for an hour.

She felt him shift slightly and knew they had to get up. 

At her request they did nothing special. All the jobs that needed doing they did together, so that she would pick up what needed to be done. They went to the pub and when they got home they made love again. She insisted he wake her when he had to get up, and they did the early morning chores, meditation, milking and egg collecting together. 

After Barry had been, and breakfast things had been washed up, Angela stood in the middle of the kitchen and began to strip. First her sweater, then her jeans, followed by her thick tights. 

Joseph stared at her, then a look of dawning realisation crossed his face and he in turn stripped off his clothes. Soon he was in his boxers, and she in her bra and knickers. She climbed onto the kitchen table, sitting at its edge, and spread her legs.

He came to her and stood between them and as they kissed hungrily, she pushed his pants down, so he sprang out ready for her. She knew she was ready, and pulled him against her. He went to pull off her pants, but she growled at him.

"Leave them," and she pulled the gusset to the side. "Now!" she commended, and he obeyed, pushing into her. She sighed and groaned. "Yes-s-s" as he bottomed out in her.




The Smallholder Pt. 03



It will definitely help to have read parts one and two! Some sex in this part.

SEVENTEEN

"A man was here," Elaine told him at the front door, where she had awaited him. "I saw him walking across the yard towards the turbines."

"I hope you didn't try to follow him," said Joseph with a worried frown.

"No, I waited by the kitchen door with Bob; I knew he couldn't get into the cages round the turbines, or into the workings of the screw. I was safe enough with Bob."

"So?"

"He came back and saw me. He asked for the keys to the cages. He said he was from the council and he was investigating a breach in planning regulations. I told him you were not here and he would have to come back. Then he said I should give him the keys anyway. He said the turbines would have to be disabled until the planning error was resolved."

"And you told him you didn't know where they were," Joseph smiled in his certainty.

"That's right, and he said he'd come in and search for them and I said there was no way he was coming in with you being away. I think he thought I was only a girl. He reckoned without Bob."

"What happened?"

"Bob growled and showed his teeth. I was holding his collar. He told me to control the dog and he was coming in. I said if he took another step I'd let go of Bob. He backed off then and said he would be back with a warrant and you wouldn't want that. I told him to get his warrant. So he left."

"Thanks Elaine, you shouldn't have had to handle that all by yourself, but you did all the right things. He had no right to enter the house."

Elaine smiled at that, and smiled more broadly still when Joseph gave her double her usual fee for babysitting the house.

Once she had gone, pedalling her racing bike down the track, Joseph made some tea and thought hard.

First the RSPCA, then the court case and now this official from the planning office. Was it significant that the man came when Joseph was known to be appearing in court? Then a further thought: was he from the planning office at all?

Joseph was about to go out to walk down the track to make a phone call, when he laughed, remembering he had a phone at home. He got out all the papers relating to the turbines and phoned the planning office.

Yes, they remembered him, the clever man with all the turbines and the Archimedes Screw. Would he wait while they got out the papers. Yes, they were all in order, notices had been posted for the correct amount of time, there had been no objections and the National Park had no objections. Would he wait again while they checked on the official. No, no one had come from their office.

Joseph sipped his tea and pondered the visit. Now he was sure that the man came precisely because Joseph was absent at court. It was only after he had been seen by Elaine that he made up the story about the planning office. Joseph smiled grimly; the man would certainly not be back with a warrant – his mission had been to reconnoitre the turbines, or even wreak some destruction. For what purpose? He felt uneasy – he would definitely be setting all the alarms from now on.

He phoned the police and was visited two days later by a constable who took notes and Elaine's address. She rang him to say she'd given a description of the man, but it was unlikely he would be traced. The surveillance cameras were not active since it was the middle of the day.

Fri 27 March 09

The week passed with Joseph engaged in ground preparation for the sowing next month. It rained on and off and was cold, but he persevered and Barry came over and ploughed in the green manure. 

Joseph was glad to ease off when Angela arrived on the Friday afternoon with a smile, a hug and a long sensuous kiss. Like the previous week, she changed and was eager to help, and he let her do as much as she could manage. Her work rate impressed him.

Joseph did not mention the man's visit, not wishing to worry her.

Barry and Mary were at the pub and of course Barry asked the question.

"Hear anything from the Planning Office? You know, the man prowling round while you were at the court?"

"I phoned the planning office," said Joseph. "They knew nothing about it."

"So he was up to no good," said Barry. "Bit worryin' that."

"Elaine did a great job seeing him off," laughed Joseph. "I was worried about her, she should never have had to do that."

Angela had been looking more concerned as the exchange progressed, and was agitated by the end of it.

"What happened?" she asked. "A man?"

Joseph sought to make light of it. "Some opportunist thief I reckon," he said dismissively. "Nothing to worry about. Everything is alarmed, and it would take some time even for a professional thief to get into the cages."

Angela let it drop, but it was obvious she was not happy. They passed on to other things.

It was a busy weekend, with a good deal of sowing in the greenhouses. Angela once again watched and learned, and they made good progress. He warned her that April was a busy month, with a good deal of sowing in the vegetable field. She smiled and nodded.

On Saturday night, she fell asleep while meditating, and Joseph gently woke her when he had finished. He carried her to the bedroom and sat her down on the bed. She had taken off her shoes before settling to meditate, and so he reached under her jeans and pulled off her socks. She kissed the back of his head.

He stood and pulled her tee shirt over her head, then unhooked her bra and pulled it away from her chest. She caressed his hips.

He stood her up and unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, pulling them down to her ankles. She lifted each leg and the garment was gone. His hands slid into her knickers and stroked her bottom cheeks as he brought them down her hips and thighs, where they fell to her feet and she kicked them off. As he bent she kissed an ear and her hands went over his back and sides, before taking his face in her hands and kissing his lips.

He lifted her and laid her in the bed, pulling the duvet over her, kissing her and stroking he hair and cheeks, before leaving for the bathroom. When he returned she was deeply asleep.

He smiled. He knew how fresh air and constant physical work, no matter how gentle, exhausts those who are unused to it. She had sown seeds in the greenhouse and potting shed nearly all day, and she had milked Susan and collected the evening eggs. 

It was the beginning of British Summer time, and there would be an hour less to sleep. He slid into bed and was asleep as swiftly as she was.

The next morning she slept in, while Joseph followed his usual routine an hour earlier. Barry came and went, and then Joseph made tea and brought her a mug, leaning over her sleeping form and and kissing her forehead awake. She opened her eyes with a yawn, then smiled seraphically as he bent to kiss her lips. Then a look of horror crossed her face.

"I overslept! Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed your sleep, we lost an hour last night: the clocks went on one hour, and there's more to do today, after breakfast and church." He paused. "Perhaps you'll stay at home this morning, while I go?"

"No fear!" she said, with a frown. "Where you go, I go, remember?"

He smiled at that, and left the room to make breakfast.

He called a halt to work at four, and they set to to make the evening meal. Pork Chops in breadcrumbs, with the last of the parsnips and broccoli, followed by a sponge pudding and custard. 

They did their evening meditation together and then sat on the sofa, idly stroking each other, and chatting about the weekend's work. 

Suddenly she said, "Make love to me, Joseph!"

She stood up and stripped off her clothes standing naked before him. He laughed and stripped in his turn and they coupled missionary style on the thin carpet in the living room. He was gentle with her, conscious of the hardness of the floor, until she sighed with what he interpreted as annoyance.

"Harder, my darling!" she gasped, "Harder, don't hold back!"

He did as he was told, until she cried out in her climax, and he with a few more thrusts came too.

He lay on top of her panting with his exertions, and she laughed. 

"That's better! Some bruises to remember the weekend by! I missed you last night."

A pause.

"Joseph?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Can you spare a weekend, soon?"

"Yes, why?"

"I thought you might get Elaine in for the weekend, and come and stay with me in town."

Silence.

"I thought you might like to see how I live during the week," she added, "where I sleep, who my friends are."

A pause, then he smiled at her, "Yes, that would be good. How about next weekend? I can work longer during the week thanks to the extra hour, and make up the time. It'll depend on whether Elaine can make it, though."

Joseph was able to employ Elaine for the weekend, pointing out when she arrived that the upstairs bed had been refurbished. She was delighted with the entertainment centre in the study. He warned her to ensure the alarms were on during the nights, and showed her where the phone was. It was cordless, so she could keep it with her even when she went to bed. He was still concerned about the so called planning officer, and half expected more attention from whoever was waging the campaign against him. He was pretty sure Kevin was behind it.

Weekend 3-5 April 2009

Angela was on edge as she stood at the window. Normally she took a visitor's arrival in her stride, but this was different. She looked round the flat. Yes, it was tastefully decorated, it was warm, the fitted carpets were thick, the sofa and armchairs were plush and soft. Would he like it?

The flat was silent. Since meeting Joseph she no longer felt any need to put the radio or TV on as a matter of course. Now she switched on to listen rather than having background noise. 

How would he react? Would he be uncomfortable? Then she saw the Range Rover pulling into the car park and halting in a visitor's space. There he was in a smart brown overcoat, carrying a holdall. He reached the door to the building and her bell rang. She ran to the hallway and pressed the door opener, and then opened the door of the flat and stood on the landing.

"Up here, Joseph!" she called, and watched as he began to climb the stairs.

He reached the landing and their eyes met. His face lit up in a happy smile, he approached her, dropped his bag and she was in his arms. They hugged and kissed, then she disengaged and led him into her home.

He stopped at the door, and slipped his shoes off. 

"You don't need to--"

"Your floors are so beautiful and clean, you don't want dirty shoes on them."

He was so considerate, she thought. 

"Bathroom left, kitchen right, bedroom second left, living room ahead," she told him, leading him into the bedroom.

"What a lovely bedroom, so comfortable!" he exclaimed, and she felt a warm glow at his praise. 

He put his bag on a chair, unzipped it and drew out two bottles of wine, one white, one red.

"I think you'll like these," he said smiling. 

"Thanks, you didn't need to, you know," 

"That's true, but I wanted to."

"Let's go into the living room," she suggested, "We can talk about what you want to do."

"I'm in your hands," he laughed. "You've obviously cooked something very tasty judging from the smell.

"You have made the flat quite beautiful. You have a lot of artistic talent," he said as they entered the living room.

"I used to enjoy painting; I loved art at school. I sort of got out of the habit."

"Have you got some of your work?" he asked. 

She nodded. "I'll show you later tonight, or tomorrow."

"I'd like that." 

"I thought we could eat here tonight and then go for a drink at my local. There may be some of my friends there: I said you were coming to visit."

"That's fine."

Joseph felt at ease in her home, but he could see she was on edge, but did not know how to put her at her ease.

They sat at the small dining table and she served bacon and egg spaghetti with a side salad.

"This is delicious my love," he said between mouthfuls.

"I told you I could cook," she said with a satisfied smile.

"I did believe you, but you've really proved it tonight."

They talked recipes and recounted their favourite dishes, and she served an apple pie with custard.

"You have a way with shortcrust pastry," he told her, "and the apples are just right, not too sweet."

She felt herself relaxing, and Joseph noticed it.

"That's better," he said, "you're relaxing now. You were very tense."

"I can't hide anything from you can I?" she said, "I don't know why I was on edge. I wanted it to go right; I wanted it to be good for you."

"You know that being with you is all that matters. I don't need anything else, everything else is a bonus. I've already learned you cook divinely and you paint and draw. We're getting to know each other, which is why you invited me."

They left the table, embraced and kissed, and pressed themselves against each other. Then leant back and gazed into each other's eyes, and saw love there. Thence to the sofa and a little more intimate stroking.

"You still want to go out?" she asked, breathing heavily.

"We can always do this when we get back, don't you think?"

"Yes, you're right. I wanted you to know my life here, so we should go."

So they went. 

There were five at the table when they arrived and Angela introduced them all.

The couple were Harry and Penny, engaged, with a wedding in the offing. Harry was a little overweight, florid of face and with a ready smile and laugh. Penny was very slim, indeed thin, flat chested and with hardly any roundness to her bottom at all. Her arms and legs were the same. Her face was oval with prominent cheekbones, and her face was lit by an almost continuous smile.

Janice was a red haired green eyed freckled woman who one would assume was Irish, and indeed she was of Irish extraction. She was pretty, on the more statuesque side, everything about her body was generous while not extreme. 

Desmond stood to shake Joseph's hand. He was dark. His hair was jet black as were his bushy eyebrows and his skin was burnished by an outdoor life overseeing building works. His hands were large and calloused, and his body muscular. He took Joseph's hand but made no attempt to score any points, his grip was friendly and firm. 

Nigel remained seated. He was in every respect average: height, build, brown hair already receding, and his hands lying on the table were thin and delicate. He nodded at Joseph but there was no smile.

"Greta can't be here," Angela told the group, "she's on weekend night shift."

Joseph assessed their ages to be in the late twenties or early thirties. He smiled at each in turn as they were introduced. 

"So you're the man Angie's been disappearing to see every weekend," Janice said with a warm smile. "She's very tight lipped about you; we hardly know anything about you-"

"Other than you've got up Gerard's nose in a big way," Nigel said. 

Everyone but Nigel laughed. Nigel merely smiled: his smile was brittle. Joseph could not work out why.

"Yes," added Harry. "What's the story, Joe, we hear he took your wife and you took Angie here in revenge, that's what Gerard's saying. That true?"

"No," said Joseph with a half smile.

"That's not true," said Nigel. "He did take your wife." Again that cold smile.

"The 'no' was to an aspect of Harry's statement," said Joseph, simply. "The whole statement is thus untrue: it is quite a number of years since women were seen as the property of men. My wife left me to live with him. It was her decision to leave, not his."

"And Gerard couldn't keep her," said Desmond, whose smile for Joseph was warm, "or she'd be with him today. She obviously moved on."

"You could say that," said Joseph though without a smile.

"So you took – sorry, got with – Angie in revenge," persisted Nigel. "Stole his car and hid it. Seems you got a few friends to lie about that and got off."

Joseph wondered why the man was so belligerent, but he felt uncomfortable that Angela was now coming to his defence.

"Shut up, Nigel," Angela admonished him. "You know nothing about it, or about anything to do with Joseph. He's my guest, and I rather hoped my friends would make him welcome."

"Can you put us right on all this?" Penny asked Joseph with a friendly smile. "Angela won't say much, and Gerard is shouting his mouth off as usual."

"It's all in the past now," said Joseph. "Best left alone."

"But there was a court case," said Desmond, "something about that car of Gerard's?"

"I'd prefer it if we dropped the whole thing and changed the subject," Joseph said. He felt rather persecuted.

"Yeah, you would," Nigel went on the attack with a sneer.

"Ok Nigel," snapped Angela, raising her voice in anger. "You want the whole story? You won't believe it. 

"Angela," said Joseph, "It won't help. Leave it."

"No way!" she was angry. "You just don't want to hurt anyone, even Gerard. Well I won't let your character be trashed."

Joseph shrugged and relaxed. She could not be stopped. It really was all one to him.

"Ten years ago," she began, "Joseph worked for his father in their manufacturing company. Then his father died in a factory accident and Joseph had to take over the company. His mother went to pieces and committed suicide blaming Joseph for his father's death. At the time Joseph was married with a young daughter. So he was trying to deal with both his parents' deaths and keep the factory going. 

"Then Gerard came along, but called himself Trevor in those days. He seduced Joseph's wife and she left him taking their daughter with her. So he had lost both parents and his wife and daughter. 

"Then when the Decree Nisi came through, Gerard insisted on a big party to celebrate, and get this Nigel, he invited Joseph so he could rub his nose in it. Gerard got stinking drunk, wouldn't let Joseph's wife drive, crashed the car into a tree and killed both mother and child. He got away with cuts and bruises, a fine, a three year driving ban and a suspended prison sentence. I bet he's never told you that, has he?"

That's terrible!" exclaimed Janice and the others nodded, except of course Nigel who looked puzzled.

"Hang on," said Nigel, "This sounds familiar. What's your surname, Joseph?"

"Ramsden."

"You're Joseph Ramsden? The Joseph Ramsden? Of Ramsden and Son?"

"Yes."

"So Gerard was the bastard...?"

"You know the story?" asked Angela.

"I work at Ramsden's. I only started last year, but I heard the story. It's a great firm: we all have shares."

"That's not all," Angela continued. "Susan's family (that was his wife's name) asked Gerard for help with the funeral. He refused saying that he was not married to her and so had no obligation to the family. He sent no flowers; he did not attend the funeral. 

"Susan's sister had to go and beg Joseph for help, and he paid for the funeral, and carried his daughter's little coffin to the grave."

"That true?" gasped Janice. "That's horrible!"

"I heard about the funeral," said Nigel. "I never connected–"

"Now to the car," Angela ploughed on, "Gerard suspected I had visited Joseph for the weekend – Joseph was just my friend at that time. Gerard arrived in his Porsche in a raging snowstorm. He insulted Joseph to his face, crowing about taking Joseph's wife from him, and then left. 

"D'you know? After him abusing Joseph, Joseph urged him not to go because the snow was drifting badly. He went anyway. Joseph suspected he would not make it and got his Range Rover out to follow him. Gerard had crashed the car and we found him under a tree semi-conscious. Joseph brought him back to the house and called for the air ambulance which came when the snow stopped. While Gerard was in the house in Joseph's bed, Joseph looked after him. 




The Smallholder Pt. 03



"The medic who arrived said that Joseph had saved his life."

Nigel made to interrupt, but Angela was on a roll.

"I haven't finished yet Nigel. The next day Joseph and a farmer friend rescued the Porsche and put it in Joseph's barn out of the weather and sent a message to Gerard via Greta, telling him where it was. Greta gave him the message. You can ask her, she'll tell you.

"So what did Gerard do? He waited a couple of weeks, then he lodged a complaint that Joseph had taken his car and hidden it. He got Joseph arrested and tried at the Magistrate's court, who dismissed the charge and gave the opinion that it was a frivolous charge which should never have been brought. They congratulated Joseph on what he had done."

Angela sat back, rather out of breath.

"Gerard said every one lied. He parked the car and make his own way home." said Desmond.

"Think, Desmond!" said Angela. "They sent a bloody helicopter for Gerard! The Medic from the air ambulance gave evidence in court. He had no need to lie. Gerard's the liar. He knew perfectly well where the car was – Greta had told him!"

Nigel had been looking thoughtful, and now he turned to Joseph. "This story is all true, isn't it?" he asked.

Joseph nodded.

"You don't seem too bothered," Nigel wondered.

"I follow my conscience. It's up to Gerard to follow his. It's he who has the problem."

"But your wife?"

"It's ten years ago. She's dead. My little girl would be in her teens now. I regret she had no chance to grow. I remember them both daily, but I remember the good times we had before my parents' death."

"Well, I apologise, Joseph. I never thought that Gerard-"

"Forget it, after so long it is of no consequence. Let's move on."

"How did you meet Angie?" Penny asked.

"Gerard lied about that as well," said Angela. "Joseph's dog saved my life."

She went on to tell the tale, and ended by describing Joseph's cottage and small holding. Janice sighed. "How romantic! He saved your life and carried you off to his bed!"

"Yes, I did," Joseph said, paused for effect, then laughed. "But I slept in the study."

"You mean?"

"He didn't try anything until after the Gerard business," said Angela, "He was concerned for me. Even then I had to make the running!" She giggled at that, and Joseph simply smiled.

"What I don't understand," said Penny, "Is why you and Gerard were hiking in that particular place. That's some co-incidence - that Gerard should be there at all."

"Yes, that's true," said Angela. "I never thought of it that way."

There was a silence.

"All I can think of," said Joseph, "Is that Susan and I used to hike round there long before she left me. It was one of her favourite walks. We used to pass the ruined cottage and I used to say to her how I'd love to live in a place like that. Needless to say, she hated the idea!" He laughed.

"Now you mention it," said Angela, "Gerard said something I didn't understand at the time, that the area had special significance for him. A girlfriend had brought him along that particular walk and he had loved it. Perhaps that was Susan?"

"Makes sense," said Desmond, and the subject lapsed.

After that the evening went by with a lightened atmosphere, with everyone pushing Joseph for tales of his life at the cottage. He chatted about life there in a self-deprecating way, giving it as his opinion that his life must seem pretty dull to them.

Angela was happy as they made their way back to her flat, but Joseph was preoccupied.

Having stripped each other and made love at some length, and afterwards they lay sated in her soft kingsize bed.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"I'm not sure telling all that about my relationship with Gerard was a good idea." 

"Why? Nigel and Desmond needed putting right."

"I'm not sure about that. I have a feeling the visit by the RSPCA and then by that so called council official, and finally my appearance in court is down to Trevor. He's probably smarting about the rebuke the court gave him indirectly. 

"Nigel in particular is a black and white type of guy. He hated me, now he hates Gerard, and I have a feeling he'll not only let Gerard know how he feels, he'll let it be known to all their common friends."

Angela felt a tendril of fear. "You think?"

"I don't know, but I wonder if he hasn't something else up his sleeve... 

"Anyway," he said, "we'll just have to keep a weather eye open for more trouble. In the meantime..."

She began to moan and gasp, as his fingers nimbly intensified her desire and her hips began to rise and fall as her feelings took hold.

"Oh! Ah! Not again!" she cried as she stiffened and relaxed in yet another more gentle resolution. Her hand snaked out and found he was hard again, and pulled him over her and into her.

"On second thoughts, again!" she panted.

Next day, they went, on her suggestion, to visit her parents. As she had described it, the house itself looked little different from the others in the road. Inside it was clear that nothing but the best would do for Mrs Furness.

Angela introduced him. "Mum, Dad, this is Joseph Ramsden."

"Call me Jane," said Angela's mother, and he's Robert," she said nodding in her husband's direction."

"And I answer to all variations of Joseph," said Joseph with a smile.

"Angela tells us you are a farmer, Joseph," Robert said with a similar friendly smile.

"A small holding," said Joseph, "just enough to feed me through the year."

"You mean subsistence farming?" Robert asked, intrigued.

"Not really," Joseph smiled again, thinking this was parental inquisition of a putative suitor for Robert's daughter. "I have an interest in a manufacturing company. It provides a safety net and additional income."

By now they were sitting on plush armchairs, Joseph being guided to sit with Angela on the sofa.

"Surely it must be a lonely life for you on your own?" asked Jane. "Miles from anywhere?"

"I've never felt lonely in all the eight years I've been there. There's plenty to do and it's a satisfying life."

"More satisfying that working in a factory?" Jane continued to probe.

"Mother, Joseph is Chairman of the Board of Ramsden and Son," Angela intervened.

"But," said a puzzled Jane, "your name is Ramsden."

"Yes, my father started the company, and I'm the 'Son'."

"So your father's retired from an active life in the company?" Robert assumed with a grin.

"You could say that," Joseph smiled. "He was killed in an accident in the factory."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Robert, mortified now at his jocular questioning.

"It's ten years since," said Joseph. "I was already largely running the place, but after he died I began to lose interest. My mother died shortly after my father and then my wife left me. She just couldn't cope. I appointed a Chief Executive Officer to manage the thing and looked for a better life."

"So you still own it?"

"I sold some of it to the managers and those on the shop floor who wanted to buy in. I own just about sixty percent and keep a watchful eye, but my MD is a good friend and runs it well. I don't really need to do as much as I do, which is little enough – a monthly meeting to keep me abreast."

"You really prefer living out there all alone to running a successful business? Angela says you live very simply." Jane looked perplexed.

"I have everything I need to keep me happy," Joseph assured her. "and since Angela has been coming, I've added a few things she might like."

In the kitchen as Angela helped her mother with the meal, her mother looked at the worriedly.

"He's very nice, I'm sure," her mother said, "but really he's not your sort of man, is he? I mean he might be nice to visit, but you're not thinking of anything more, are you? Angela you'd never survive that sort of life. I mean I can see why you find him so attractive – he's gentle, kind, caring, good looking too, but he's opted out of life! And isn't he a little old for you? What would you do out there in the country? It's just not you darling!"

"Mum, you've never seen his place; it's absolutely beautiful! It nestles in a little valley between two ridges. You don't know him either. He's the most perfect man I've ever met. He had a dreadful life when his parents died and his wife left him, and he came through it with a different view of life, and it's that view I like. He's happy, contented, satisfied with very little. I want that. So can we leave it there? Please, Mum?"

"Oh well," her mother sighed dejectedly, "you'll do what you want I suppose in the end. I don't understand why you dropped that nice Gerard. Now there was a man in your sphere of life. He was ideal, and to leave him for this Joseph..." she shrugged, "I don't understand you darling."

Angela was on the point of telling her exactly how wonderful Gerard was when her father came into the kitchen. 

"Time for drinks," he said, getting the glasses out of the cupboard. "You driving, love?"

Angela nodded and settled for a tonic without the gin.

"You've got a good one there," her father suggested. "Knows what he's doing in his life and he's found a way of life that he enjoys and is fulfilling for him. He's well set up financially as well. Seems a gentle comfortable sort."

"Yes, he is," said Angela. "He's lovely."

There his parents left it, and left Angela with plenty to think about. While outwardly rejecting her mother's objections, she knew she would have to think about what she said.

------ 

EIGHTEEN

Sunday 5 April 2009

Joseph let himself into his cottage mid-afternoon. Angela had understood that he needed to get back to feed the animals and relieve Elaine. Rain had accompanied his journey, but the cloud was beginning to break as he entered the cottage.

Bob went wild with delight, running to him, skirting his legs being too well trained to jump up, his tail lashing in his excitement. Joseph bent down and fondled his ears and neck, and the dog whimpered. 

He straightened and went to the kitchen to make some tea. It was good to be back home and its simplicity welcomed him. He sat at the kitchen table and listened to the kettle singing as the water came to the boil. A note from Elaine assured him that all was well with his little kingdom, and that she had washed and dried the sheets of the upstairs bed.

He felt comfortable and relaxed, enfolded by the silence and the familiarity of the place, realising that this was the first weekend since he had arrived at the then semi-derelict cottage all those years ago, that he had been away for a weekend. He remembered conversation on Friday turning to questions as to where each of the folk had booked their holidays and smiled at their amazement that he had never been away on holiday for all those years. He had never felt any need to escape the life he led: he had wonderful hills, peaceful countryside, ever varying weather and above all, peace and quiet. 

He made tea and sat again while it brewed. He modified that thought, perhaps not so quiet: there was the croaking of the rooks, the bleating of the sheep and his own goats, the clucking and triumphant cackling of his hens as they deposited another egg, and the birds, especially the skylarks and the curlews. However there was little of the incessant roar of car tyres on roads and the din of traffic. 

He took the mug of tea with him and walked round his livestock and checked the turbines and the water screw. He looked over the fields. Everything was in order. It was good to be back.

As he went about the evening rounds, blessing the light evenings, he remembered the weekend and smiled. Angela was so eager to make him comfortable, so keen to entertain him. The concert they attended on Saturday evening was delightful. The visit to her parents on Sunday had gone well; they seemed to like him and he them. 

He had lived for so long without any music at all, that the richness and variety of the sounds touched him deeply, and he wondered if he shouldn't set aside some time to listen to music. If there was to be music it would be music to listen to, rather than to have on in the background. Angela had put on the TV for the news, but he found he preferred the radio, to which, he realised, he seldom listened. Should he keep more in touch with world events? Was there a moral obligation to share in the troubles – and it seemed it was mainly troubles which were reported – of the wider world?

He wondered that he knew about most of the news items, and remembered that he usually read the newspaper in the pub of an evening. Of course, that was enough, he needed neither radio nor TV to keep abreast of the news.

She had taken him out for breakfast on Saturday, and he had to admit he found the noise and bustle of the café at once exciting and annoying. It was fun to watch the other patrons and see them deeply engaged in conversation. It was good to see people in relationships as varied as they were: old couples sitting contentedly by one another not needing conversation beyond the odd remark, while younger folk seemed intent on filling every silence with talk. He wondered what they found to talk about at such length. 

There was the noise of the coffee machine, the smell of coffee and cooked food, the clatter of crockery and the raised voices, almost shouts of the hidden kitchen staff, all of which was novel for him. The concept of going out for breakfast was new to him, even though on his trips to town he had passed cafés such as the one they visited without ever venturing inside one, indeed he never felt any need to take refreshment there, preferring to go home and make his own meals.

Angela had asked him if he wanted to go to church on Sunday morning. He asked her if she used to go to church on Sundays before she began to spend weekends with him, and on receiving a negative response, said he felt no need.

However, she had invited him to do his meditation on both mornings, and he had agreed to that. He found the experience of a plush carpet under him very luxurious and told her so with a laugh, and she looked a little uncomfortable until he assured her it was simply different and did not affect the meditation at all. He joked that after the experience he might go and buy a thick pile rug. He had a twinkle in his eye and she laughed.

He laughed to himself as he remembered her brazen stripping on Saturday morning when they returned from breakfast, and the intensity of their love-making as a result. Suitably energised by the food and the sex, they went for a long walk in a local park, which again surprised him, seeing how many other people were jogging, or pushing pushchairs in family groups, or playing football on the open fields. He was aware of how crowded it felt living in a large town or city. Lunch was a salad and they dined out before the concert.

His meditation that evening, back in front of his tiny altar in the company of his parents and wife and daughter, and also of the silhouette of Gerard, centred solely on Angela. She would not go away, and eventually he surrendered and allowed her to fill his mind and rest there.

He saw how nervous she had been on his arrival, and indeed how edgy she had been over the whole weekend. It was a side of her he had not seen when she was at the cottage. He knew, and indeed she told him when he commented on her state of mind, that she wanted everything to be perfect for him after all he had done for her. He tried to put her mind at rest, and indeed she did relax to some extent, but he had been unable to resist the comment as he left that 'now you can take a deep breath and relax!'

She was so beautiful, so keen to entertain him, and give him a good time, which she had done, and he told her so, seeing the relief on her face. He was well aware that he desired her and now accepted that he longed for her presence each weekend. The cottage, which had always seemed so full, now seemed empty and lonely during the week. He knew he was becoming dependent on her.

That realisation provoked another train of thought, and it arose from the weekend. Her home life was so radically different from his that his previous misgivings arose again, that he could not see her being happy in his world for very long. At that moment she had the best of both worlds: her life during the week and a weekly holiday with him at the weekends.

He accepted that she could keep coming weekend after weekend, but knew that relationships never stand still: already they had passed from being friends to being lovers. Then came mental images of them making love.

At this point his thoughts became agitated and he abandoned the meditation. The thought of the future and the problems it would pose as their relationship progressed now dominated his consciousness. She was in his life and was in love with him, he knew that, as he was in love with her, he wondered about his responsibility to her and for her future happiness.

Could she be happy in their isolated life? Well they had discussed it before, but the problem did not recede for the talking about it. He knew she was certain that her love for him was all that mattered, and the place or situation she was in was very much secondary to that. Women were like that, he thought, they were person- rather than place-centred.

Then he thought again. Susan also was ostensibly person-centred, but moved to another man when the going became tough and it killed her and little Sonia. His relationship with her had seemed complete and fulfilling, but her love for him was clearly not enough to sustain her loneliness while he worked through his tragedies and coped with the business. He knew he still felt responsible for her death. 

It was loneliness, wasn't it? Susan was lonely while he was in the middle of his crises. Of course in his distress he had not felt like having sex. She needed more than a physical presence: she needed a more attentive one centred on her. Would Angela be the same, have the same needs but in a different way? 

There were weeks and months when he had to work long hours out in the fields, basically all daylight hours, and they were long in summer. She would be alone with no one to talk to, no one to confide in. Would she end up getting in the car and going back to her friends and gradually needing them more than she needed him. 

That was it. It wasn't the isolation in itself, it was the need for her female friends and in fact for the whole of her friendship circle. He could not compete. Then there was the unrelenting routine of farming life, the early rising every day, year in, year out. He recalled the conversation about getting away for holidays. He never went away for holidays. Elaine was very good and could keep things ticking over, but she was nearing the end of her schooling and would be leaving home. Who would look after the smallholding then? He knew of no one with the time and expertise, no one. He could hardly ask Mary!

As he locked up the house, and made his way to his own bed he felt a growing certainty that this relationship was doomed; it would not survive the change in her way of life. 

As he lay in bed he began to wonder what he should do about it. He had been the listening ear to so many people over the years, but who was there to listen to him? How could he finish things with her with a little suffering as possible? Buddha was right: desire brings suffering, it cannot be avoided. 

There was always tomorrow. Tomorrow he could think some more, and perhaps make some decisions. Perhaps Barry would know what was best to be done. He slept.

"What's up mate?" asked Barry as they sat in the kitchen lit by the grey day outside.

Barry always surprised him with his perception of Joseph's moods. "Summat on yer mind?"

"As usual you read me perfectly. Yes, you're right."

"Spill it lad. Maybe I can help, maybe not, But's better out than in."




The Smallholder Pt. 03



"Elaine not too tired after her hard work?" 

"Nay, mate, her latest squeeze was good enough to stay with her the whole weekend," and he laughed at the innuendo, "if 'er were going to be tired it'd be 'im doin' it, not t' animals."

Joseph laughed. Elaine was a real farmer's daughter, eighteen, rudely healthy, sensuous, and sexy. He hoped she was careful.

"So it's yer lady fair? Got problems?"

"Barry lad, I've seen where she lives, and how she lives. I've met her friends – a nice bunch. Actually went to a concert – first time in ten years! Met her parents – nice folk. Get this, Barry, we went out to breakfast if you please!"

"Wooo!" crowed Barry. "Bit of a shock that eh?"

"Yes indeed. Very crowded."

There was a silence. Barry waited. He knew Joseph needed time to think.

"You see, I've been here for what? Getting on for eight years is it? I've never felt any need to leave, to go on holiday. She and her friends were discussing where they were going. The only time I've left here is to go over to the works for a meeting about once a month. Leave in the morning, back in the afternoon. Not exactly a holiday! This weekend is the first time I've been away overnight!"

"And?"

"Her life is so different, Barry. Her flat – very plush. The way she lives, not like our way at all. She is coming over every weekend then going back to her real life. She's got a foot in both camps, and that's fine for her."

"But yer think her'll not cope 'ere full time?"

Joseph nodded. "With Susan, I thought I was enough for her, and we were together for some years with no trouble, but when Dad died, and I had to cope with the factory as well as Mum's depression and her suicide, Susan couldn't cope, or wouldn't. I wasn't there enough for her. 

"Well, you know what it's like here. Winter is a time of relative peace and quiet, but in summer I'm out in the open all the daylight hours. She'd hardly see me. I mean, if she'd been brought up in the country..."

Barry took a drink from his mug. "Aye, I see yer point. My Mary was a country girl, she knew what she were letting hersen in for, but as yer say..."

Another silence.

"The thing is," said Joseph, "I'm getting more and more attached to her. I lived quite happily here on my own, but now the place seems lonely during the week. She's said a number of times that she wants to live with me, and she's just waiting for me to be certain, but we've only known each other for a few months, and it's still very new and different for her. 

"If it came to it, I'm certain I could live with her for good and all, but I'm not certain she would be able to stand the life. Susan couldn't stand my absence and I think it's likely neither will Angela. As I say, as time goes by I'm getting more and more attached to her, and the break would be very painful. I've been through that before. Never again."

"Umm." Barry paused a moment. "Well... Listen, you've installed TV, telephone, broadband. She can talk with 'er friends, Skype 'em and see who she's talking to. They can come and visit her weekends. Tha's not quite so cut off as yer was. Say – just say – she had kiddies. She'd be busy all the time with 'em, and then getting 'em to school as well as helping yer out in the summer. She's got a bit o' gumption about 'er, that I can tell.

"Give it a mite longer Joseph. See how the lass copes with Spring and Summer, and don't forget harvest in Autumn. What about 'er seeing if she can go part time at work and spend longer here with 'ee?"

Joseph sighed. "Yes, you're right. We can put off any decision a little longer."

"Yer can always talk to the maid," said Barry. "These things are better on table than under it."

After Barry had gone, Joseph had so much to do, sowing and transplanting, that he had little time to think and when without his customary meditation he eventually got to bed, he fell asleep immediately. The rest of the week followed the same pattern, though he did make a firm decision to talk with Angela about their relationship.

It did not occur to him, nor to her, to phone during the week to talk to each other!

--- 

Out of the blue, on Tuesday, Penny and Janice invited Angela out for a meal and a drink after work the following night. Angela was always willing for a night out with friends, especially if it meant avoiding having to cook her evening meal. She never liked cooking for one, and while before meeting Joseph she would have bought in take-aways or ready meals, now she felt ought to cook fresh food, or at least something she had previously cooked herself and frozen.

She expected she would have to pay for the meal by being cross-examined by her friends, and if she was honest, she was keen to hear what they thought of him. The conversation did not go quite as she expected.

"Interesting evening, Friday," Janice opened the topic. "He's certainly different! Those eyes! They seem to see into your soul and yet totally accepting. Sent shivers all over me. And he's really fit, good looking and strong, broad shoulders, nice bum! Bet he's got a really tight six pack!"

"Janice!" Angela said, exasperated, "You've got a one track mind!"

"But you've got to agree," Janice persisted, "Bit old for you, but very easy on the eye."

"Very quiet though," said Penny, who'd been listening, "I wouldn't have thought he'd be your type. Couldn't be more different from Gerard, and you were really into Gerard until he started messing you about."

"Come on, Pen," grinned Janice, "I bet he's got talents you haven't even dreamed about! Eh, Angie?"

Angela coloured up, looked a little uncomfortable, but said nothing.

"See?" crowed Janice, "He has! Come on Angie, what's he really like?"

Angela saw Penny looked concerned and uncertain, while Janice was eager for excitement. She wondered about Penny's attitude.

Angela smiled and began. "He's lovely. Yes, he's quiet: he only speaks when he has something to say, he's not into conversation for the sake of it. He works really hard. He gets up at about five-thirty and meditates for about an hour then he feeds and attends to the animals and hens. 

"He's got the most amazing kitchen and most of his food is home grown. He's a wonderful cook. He's very affectionate – and loving Janice!"

"Greta was saying his place is very plain" said Penny. "He doesn't have a phone or radio or TV, stone floors and rugs, plain simple minimal furnishing."

Angela shrugged. "Well, yes, except that he got a TV and a music centre for me and a sofa for the study, and he got a landline phone connected and broadband. You can't get a mobile signal where he is. Funny thing is, I didn't miss any of that while I was there."

"Oh, he kept you busy, did he?" giggled Janice and they all knew what she meant. 

Angela rolled her eyes in exasperation. "We only started sleeping together after I finished with Gerard."

"So is he good? Floats your boat?" Janice probed.

Angela coloured again, "He's very good. Very loving and caring. I've no complaints."

Janice giggled but Penny did not laugh.

"So where's it all going, Angie?" asked Penny, who was looking increasingly worried, "I mean, surely you can't be thinking of anything permanent? It's all very new and different now, the reverse of Gerard, but really you belong here don't you? You'd die of boredom there, or he'd work you do death. You don't want a life of drudgery. You know nothing about growing stuff – hell you've not even got a garden, and you never showed any interest in plants. You don't even have potted plants in your flat!

"Then there's your friends. You'll be miles away from us all, you'll be lonely once the shine goes off your life with him."

"Woah, Penny!" exclaimed Janice. "You sure know how to put a damper on things."

"I'm only being realistic," she rejoined, "I just can't see Angie as a farmer's wife miles from anywhere. Going for weekends is one thing, but doing it for life? It's just not you, is it, Angie?"

Angela sat silently. What Penny was saying was nothing new to her. Indeed she remembered Joseph's misgivings about her survival in his world, And she'd been so certain then that he was for her. Then since the weekend she'd also been wondering along those lines. 

She remembered how she'd forced the pace when she found him dressed in only a towel that Friday, she had been so sure and their love life was perfect, but she now knew that none of her friends saw this relationship lasting, and now she wondered the same.

"Sorry, Angie," Penny added, interpreting her silence as distress, "I had to say it. Someone has to be realistic about things."

"No, no," Angela replied. "You're quite right. It is a dilemma for me, and I have been thinking about it. In fact Joseph has said as much – before we went to bed together."

"So what are your feelings for him?" asked Janice, a little deflated. "Feelings count you know – a gut feeling can be right."

"He's the most wonderful person to be around. He's emotionally solid, balanced but passionate with it. He just lights up my life when he's around. Yes, he lived for years on his own with only his dog for company, but he wasn't a recluse. We went into the local town and I was amazed at all the people who knew him and greeted him with real pleasure. It seems people flock to him for advice."

"You mean they turn up at his house?" Janice asked.

"No, he goes to the local pub a few times a week, and people seek him out there. People come from quite a distance to see him."

"Well, I'm sure he's a lovely person," said Penny, "I just don't think he's right for you long term. I think it's more the way of life than him as a person. I don't think you're cut out to be a farmer's wife, no matter how wonderful the farmer is."

"Don't hedge it round, Penny," said Janice sarcastically, "Get straight to the point! You're wrong, Angie should follow her heart!"

"No Janice," said Angela, "Penny's right. I need to be sure that I can't just cope with the life, but actually feel at home in it, 'cos it's sure he's not going to change his life for mine. And I wouldn't want him to either."

"Hmph!" Janice retorted. "Seriously, if what you say about him is true, Angie, I'd say go for it. Women have always left their safe lives for a man they loved and been happy."

"And some haven't! Some have been bloody miserable!" was Penny's retort.

For the rest of the week, whenever she was not active, her misgivings about a permanent life with Joseph surfaced. It seemed everyone thought she was heading for catastrophe, and she began to feel real fear, of what she did not know. 

The feeling was worse when she sat in the living room of her beautiful flat (it was beautiful, Joseph said so, didn't he?). She realised she loved her flat, her little kingdom. It was where she escaped to when life was hectic. It cocooned her from the pressures of her life. Perhaps in fact her friends were right: this was a silly infatuation with the man who saved her life and lived so differently from her own life.

------ 

NINETEEN

It was with a heavy heart that she set off on Maundy Thursday afternoon for Joseph's cottage. She turned off the road along the track on a day which was now sunny after showers all morning. The fields looked greener, and some of the trees were already in bud ready to burst into life. There were sheep with lambs in the adjacent fields, and spring had arrived in earnest. She made the two right angle turns and shortly the cottage came into view and her spirits lifted: it looked lovely in the afternoon light.

As she parked, Joseph came round the barn and she knew he had been working in the greenhouses. His smile was broad and loving and immediately all her misgivings evaporated as she climbed out of the car and went to his arms for a deep kiss and a hug. This – his arms round her at the cottage – felt like home, felt like the place she really wanted to be.

"I'm so happy you're here for four whole days," he said. "I've missed you since last weekend."

She could not answer, but made a little noise of satisfaction, and another kiss. She had missed him, but now there was that shadow of uncertainty looming. It was unsettling and a source of mystification that she felt at home in her flat, and at home here also. But which was the more powerful home: which one did she want to be in most? Now she felt almost certain that this cottage was where she wanted to be, but had a vivid memory of feeling safe and comfortable in her suburban flat.

They made their way, arms around each other, round the cottage to enter by the back door and Joseph immediately set the kettle to boil for a pot of tea. The atmosphere and homeliness of the room washed over and surrounded her and she revelled in it. It rapidly became clear that part of this atmosphere was a wonderful aroma: it was roasted lamb and rosemary. 

She sat at the table, noting the pans on the stove: all was prepared for the meal. 

"Smells wonderful!" she said.

"My parents always had roast lamb on Maundy Thursday," he said. So I always eat lamb today in honour of them."

"What a lovely idea!" she said. "Can I help?"

"All done," he replied, setting her mug of tea in front of her. "Now you sit and relax after your journey while I sort the animals." With that he took Bob, who had been welcoming Angela in his own way, with broad tail wagging and resting his head on her thigh for some petting, and went outside.

Again the blessed silence fell on the house and she relaxed into it. She idly wondered why she was so uncertain about Joseph and their relationship while away from him and the house, while as soon as she arrived all her worries evaporated and she was able to sink into the comfort of this place and person.

She wondered which emotion was the real one. Was this real, or was her flat and busy life? All that worry seemed so unreal now, but was she being deceived? Was it because this house and Joseph were a holiday from real life, or was this real life? They were old, often rehearsed questions, but there did not seem to be any clear answers.

Ironically, Joseph was having similar thoughts as he went about his tasks.

He had all those doubts about her, and now she was there in the kitchen after her kiss, and he felt there were no problems at all. Somehow everything seemed in place, felt right.

While he was aware that this was his emotional reaction to her presence, the reality was that she was not suited to the life he led. He sighed as he milked Susan, then came the thought: people adapt, and she could adapt to a different life, no matter where she now lived and in what manner of living.

He thought back to the weekend and how unreal her life seemed to him. He knew he could not live the life she led any more. Too much noise, tension, too many options. 

Could she live a life diametrically the opposite? They needed to talk, but he did not want to raise the questions, he recognised the fear that she would agree and that they would reluctantly part for good. 

Then came the clear thought. What had to be done was what was best for her. How could that be done? Be practical, he told himself, and began to ponder the possibilities.

It occurred to him that part of the pain of Susan's rejection of him was that he was not party to what she did: he was the powerless victim, and nothing he could do could change what happened. But if he and Angela made a plan together...?

He immediately felt better. They had time to plan a strategy, and did not need to decide anything quickly. Perhaps, not this long weekend. Perhaps, as Barry said, they could see how she coped with the summer and the autumn. 

It was with a spring in his step that he returned to the house.

When he entered the kitchen he stopped. The kitchen table was once again draped in the pure white tablecloth, and it was set for two, with wine glasses and a bottle of his best Australian Red which was open and breathing. He smiled, and went to the cooker to put the vegetables to cook, and to baste and turn the roast potatoes.

He turned as she entered the room and opened his eyes in surprise. She was dressed in her little black dress with a diamond necklace, matching earrings and bracelet. She was wearing dark stockings and three inch heels, and she'd put her hair up. He had always been entranced by her sinuous neck and now it was beautifully exposed to his gaze.

"Oh Angela," he sighed, "you are so beautiful."

She coloured prettily and came to his arms, making him all the more conscious of his working clothes and dirty state. He held her off while leaning in for a kiss.

"Can you look after things while I shower and change?"

She gave him her what do you think? look and went to the drawer to fetch and brandish an apron to protect her party clothes. He laughed and left the room.

He returned in his best suit, shirt and tie, his hair, usually unkempt, carefully brushed, and his face shaved. She gazed at him and gave a deliberate throaty sigh. There was time for an embrace involving a good deal more pressing bodies together before serving the meal. 

There was little conversation during the meal beyond comments from Angela on how wonderful his cooking was and a reciprocal one from Joseph on how beautiful she looked that night.

There was however much communication. Each gazed at the other from time to time, and each saw love in the gaze, which prompted smiles. After the main course, his hand crossed the table to cover hers, and she in turn held the hand.

Joseph looked at the woman before him, saw afresh the delicate prettiness of her face, her little turned up nose, he generous mouth and those penetrating green eyes. Her thick hair, brown but light enough to be almost blonde, was up, well brushed and shining. He dress allowed the hint of her perfect medium cleavage. It came to him that she was far better looking than Susan had been, and with this appraisal, carried out in snatched glances over the meal, all his doubts about whether he was in love with her were swept aside. He knew: with everything he had, he wanted her.

For her part she reprised all that he had taught her, her body remembered his firm strong body, his gentleness in strength, the hardness of his chest and abdomen, she saw anew his gentle brown eyes and knew the love in them as he smiled at her. She noticed his large strong hands and remembered the muscles in his arms. In her turn she felt desire growing as the meal progressed, and a pleasant dampness between her thighs. She longed for his strong arms to be round her and his hands wondering over her pliant firm body.

So each of them decided independently of the other that they did not need anyone or anything else that night to make life perfect. Each put aside all the misgivings they had before which now in the warm kitchen seemed trivial, and revelled in each other's glances and smiles, and each felt the tendrils of lust beginning to burn. No thought of the future, there was only the now.

It was not simply physical desire. It was affection, warm companionship, relaxation in each other's presence: any observer would have to say they were in love, and in that evening as they ate together, each of them realised it.

The meal ended, Joseph stood and turned towards the kitchen door.

"I'll come with you," she said, divining that he wanted a check on the animals as the last of the light disappeared.

They made the rounds, chatting about the increased laying of the chickens, the milk yield from the goats and which of Joseph's fields Barry was using this year to pasture the sheep. 

"Meditation?" she asked as they finished tidying the kitchen on their return. 

"Yes," he agreed, reading into her question a request. They settled as they had become used to doing. As she settled down to be cross-legged on the floor, her dress had to ride up her thighs until her knickers were in full view. She was glad she was behind him, knowing that the sight would end his meditation immediately.




The Smallholder Pt. 03



It was during the hour that the misgivings about their relationship rose unbidden, and each of them refused to be enmeshed in their respective dilemmas but allowed the distraction as they saw it to pass into peacefulness. 

However, when after the hour, he stood and turned, his eyes were drawn instantly to her legs and where they joined. He held out his hands to her and helped her up, but then, before she could straighten her dress, his hands were pulling down her knickers to her knees and sweeping up to cup her damp sex and press his palm against her.

She threw her head back, groaning at his passion for her, and ran her fingers through his hair as her lips sought his, her tongue pushing into his mouth and her breasts pressing against his hard chest. They mauled each other's mouths until she could take it no longer and pushed him away, rapidly unzipping her dress and allowing it to fall to the floor and stood for his inspection in her best and thinnest black bra, suspenders and her knickers still at her knees.

"Oh Angela!" he gasped in admiration and shedding his jacket began to undo his shirt.

"Leave it!" she growled. "I'll do it!"

She looked up into his eyes from under her long lashes as she undid one button at a time, and kissed his neck, his chest and bowing, his stomach, as more of his body came into view. 

He sighed and moaned at the sensuality of it, and undid his own trousers, whereupon she pulled his shirt off his shoulders, pushed down his trousers with his briefs, while at the same time pulling her legs together to allow the pants to fall to the floor. They giggled as they stepped out of the pooled clothing.

But not for long. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all, and carried her to the bedroom, placing her gently onto the bed. She watched his hardness waving about as he took off his socks, and then crawled onto the bed, ready to give some oral attention.

"No!" she said sharply. "Put it in, I'm almost ready to burst!"

"Ah! So am I" he cried, "I won't last!"

"Don't then! Oh, hell, I'm coming now!"

She watched as he hovered briefly above her before his thighs came down and thrust his rigidity into her with all his might. She cried out with with the sensation of his plundering and of her orgasm, beginning before he entered her, deepened and intensified so that her initial cry became a series of guttural moans and pantings as she twitched with the intensity of it.

He gave a roar as he came even as he was thrusting into her for the first time, and thereafter grunted and gasped as he continued to push again and again.

He fell on her, and both of them were panting with the exertion of it all, feeling each other's aftershocks.

"That was a surprise!" she panted.

"That was unexpected!" he panted simultaneously, and they laughed.

"Good enough?" he enquired, lifting the weight of his body on his elbows.

"Good enough!" she said indolently, "You certainly give the term 'rogering' a more vivid meaning. I really needed that, my knickers were damp and there was a cold draught up me all though that meditation: I was frantic by the end!"

"You should have said, I could have put something else up you," he said evilly.

She was briefly shocked at his earthiness, but then countered with "No, it was better that way, I can't remember ever coming before any physical contact, and you certainly improved the orgasm when you ploughed in. It felt fantastic to be used like that!"

They could have settled into sleep without further ado, but Bob needed letting out, and the fires needed banking up, so they did all that together – in the nude. Angela got them both a glass of milk and once the house was secured, they went back to bed, where they made gentler love gazing at each other wonderingly, and falling asleep as they liked to do, in each other's arms.

---

There are no bank holidays were animals are concerned, and Joseph crept from their bed as the eastern sky began to lighten into deep blue, saw Bob out of the door, and went for a shower. When he returned the bed was empty and he walked nakedly into the kitchen to find Angela, also naked, pouring tea into their mugs.

"Good Morning!" he whispered into her ear as he embraced her from behind, kissing her neck, his hands covering her breasts.

" 'Morning!" she replied, snuggling her head against his chest and feeling his dormant penis begin to rise. She broke from his grasp and presented him with his mug. "You were going to let me sleep, weren't you?" she accused him, smiling with triumph at her success in foiling his loving plan.

"It's a Bank Holiday," he protested, "You are entitled to a lie in."

"Not here, I'm not." she asserted. "The animals don't know it's Good Friday."

He nodded with a contented smile, and after their tea, they dressed and donned their coats against the cool morning and went out into the dawn twilight. The ground was wet from overnight rain, but the sky was clear of clouds and much brighter now and it was obvious where the sun would arrive. 

They did the chores together, and consequently were done in half the time. 

"You've really got the hang of it," he said with admiration in his voice. "So efficient!" and he laughed.

They brought the milk and the eggs back to the house and boxed the eggs.

"Meditation?" she asked him. He nodded. An hour later, he went to the kitchen and she to the bathroom to shower and dress in new underwear, after wearing yesterday's for the farm duties.

Barry arrived for his customary toast and tea, and his face lit up as Angela walked into the kitchen wearing a pair of tight jeans and a skinny rib jumper which outlined her bra covered breasts to perfection, his eyes travelling over the sight. Angela smiled and he reddened a little and then grinned having been found out.

The early sun had already been obliterated by clouds sweeping in from the west, and Joseph decreed they would not be going out that morning, but would make hot cross buns.

They made the buns in the morning and the rain stopped before lunchtime.

"Fancy some field work?" he asked. She nodded.

"Sowing seed potatoes?" he added. "Back breaking work. At least it's cloudy." She nodded again with a smile.

"I'm not joking," he said.

"Yes, I'm fine with that. Let's do it."

There was a short delay when they came to change in the bedroom. Angela stripped to her bra and boy-shorts, and Joseph to his briefs. They looked at one another, took the few steps to each other and ran hands over each other's bodies, ending with his hand cupping her sex and hers around his lengthening penis.

She shuddered grinned and shook herself. "Work to do. Rewards afterwards."

"Yes Miss," he said with a plaintive air and they reluctantly put on their work clothes.

Yes, it was backbreaking. Joseph used his cultivator to make furrows in the field and then they placed the potatoes in the trenches made before Angela used a hoe to fill in the furrow while Joseph made new furrows and continued sowing.

"You know that it's an Irish custom to plant seed potatoes on Good Friday?" he said as they worked.

"Really? Why?"

"The day commemorating the death of Jesus. It was reckoned that planting on such a sacred day would prevent the devil coming and ruining the crop."

She laughed. "Does it work?"

"Don't know. This is the first Good Friday I've planted them." And he laughed as well. "It's usually late enough so that when the shoots break the surface, they miss the worst frosts."

After five hours' work during which Joseph noticed she more than pulled her weight, they finished the sowing and returned to the house.

"Shower?" he asked as they stripped off their work clothes.

"Together?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Together," he answered and slipped down his briefs. She gave an exaggerated stare at his manhood, and then shimmied out of her panties. He returned the favour, staring at her sex, and she grinned as she unclasped her bra and was naked. There was an hiatus, as he stared and she stared back.

"Seen enough?" she asked with mock indignation as if affronted at his lust.

"No, but let's shower – if you've seen enough?" he teased.

She turned and preceded him to the bathroom, deliberately giving him the gift of her pert buttocks swinging as she walked with an exaggerated sway of her hips. He growled and she giggled.

They stood in the wet area and when she was under the shower head, he turned on the water.

Cold.

She let out a screech and jumped out of the stream, glowering at him as he laughed at her reaction. She ran a scooping hand through the water and flung a handful at him, making him catch his breath, and laughing in her turn. Then he turned up the heat and they came together under the warm water, and kissed, pressing their slippery, wet naked bodies against each other, and enjoying the earthy, sweaty smell engendered by their labours.

Then they became quiet as they soaped each other all over, tarrying over breasts and pubis, her hands thoroughly lathering his penis, slithering her hand up and down until he groaned.

He immediately reciprocated her action on her, soaping her with a probing finger. She leant her head on his chest as the sensations swept over her and without warning she came, giving a groan in her turn and twitching, while he caught her as her knees gave way.

He lifted her by her thighs and fed himself, by now rampant, into her, causing her to open her eyes wide and gaze into his lidded lustful intent expression. He was very close and she sucked in a breath as he throbbed in her.

"So good," she moaned as he slipped from her and allowed her to stand once more, when she pulled his head down and kissed him violently, raking her tongue through his mouth.

He answered by exhaling audibly and pulling her against him.

They rinsed off and towelled each other dry before returning to the bedroom and falling into bed together, where they entwined limbs and caressed each other, stealing kisses as they felt the need. Gradually he became hard again and she immediately lay on her back with her legs wide, inviting his entrance. 

She exulted in the feeling of his hardness pushing into her, stretching her, giving her a feeling of fullness. "Yes!" she sighed, "I love you, my Joseph."

"You are so beautiful, my gorgeous girl. You feel so good."

"Do me now, my lover," she invited. 

There was not long to lie in each other's arms as they revelled in post coital bliss – it was time to milk goats and feed chickens and piglets, which they did together. Then ate hot cross buns for their evening meal, groaning with pleasure at the spicy sweetness of them.

Once again, they did not 'have the talk' that day. Each was enthralled with the other and both put off something which had the possibility to end it all. It was not lust. At least it was not only lust, in fact it was more the peace they felt in each other's company, a sense of relaxation.

After a cloudy day on Friday, Saturday was largely sunny though still cool, and they did some shopping for groceries in the town in the morning and more field work planting cabbages, sprouts and broccoli seedlings in the afternoon. 

Easter Sunday dawned cold and clear. The sun lit everything to bring out colours more vividly, the fresh greens of new growth, and the off-white coats of the sheep with their lambs. There was church in the morning and a hike in the afternoon. By now she had realised that Joseph only did the minimum for the livestock on Sundays: it was his day of rest. The day became quite warm with a comforting cool breeze. 

Monday was a bank holiday and they spent it completing the planting they had started on Saturday. Like Sunday, it was a fine day and very comfortable for field work.

So it came to Monday evening, and as if by common consent both became pensive.

"What is it?" Joseph asked her as they sat after their evening meal.

She wondered why she always had to answer him; why she could never brush off his questions with "Nothing!"

She gazed at him as he waited patiently for her reply. He never pushed her, but waited.

"Life always seems perfect while I'm with you." She paused as if gathering herself. She knew he was waiting for the 'but'.

"Since you came to visit me at the flat – it seems so long ago now – nearly all of my friends have been saying the same things." Again she stopped, unwilling to let the blow fall. Again he waited on her.

"The thing is, when I'm at home in my little flat, I can see what they mean. They say that this is great as a holiday, but it isn't real life. My real life is in town, doing the job I love, meeting my friends, going to concerts and plays. If I hadn't gone hiking with Gerard and you hadn't rescued me, I would never even considered life here. They say that I'm heading for disaster, and it's frightened me."

"So what have you decided?" Joseph looked impassive, but inside he felt a great chasm of loneliness beginning to open. Everything in him wanted to beg her not to finish with him, but he would not try to influence her.

"That's just it," she said. "When I'm there, this life seems totally wrong for me, but when I'm here..."

"It's the other way round?"

"Yes. Exactly. This weekend has been blissful, all of it, the working in the fields, the routines, I do mean all of it." 

She grinned briefly and he took her meaning. "Just being with you I feel perfectly content. Then, when I get home tonight I'll... Well I don't know what I'll think. I feel I'm being torn apart living like this week in week out."

"Look, go home and use this week to think about your options. Go back to your friends, your parents and listen to what they tell you, but reserve judgement on what they say. It's your problem not theirs. Ok?"

She looked thoughtful, looked into his eyes and nodded. "Yes, you're right. I have to make a decision and it has to the the right one. I'll go now."

She went and collected her bag and came to him. They held each other and each began to feel that the relationship was over and the following week was merely to cement the only decision that could be made. Their kiss was intense and prolonged, until he gently pushed her away and she turned and went to her car. Then with a wave she was off, driving away down the track she had walked so many times.

As she turned the first right angle bend she remembered the snowstorm and Trevor. She replayed that episode and once again loved the man to whom she had just bad farewell.

Joseph turned back to his front door and found Bob with a wagging tail. 

"Well, Bob, at least you don't have decisions to make, do you?" He ruffled behind the dog's ears and went indoors.

------- 

TWENTY

Joseph buried himself in work outside during the rest of the week, making the most of the mainly fine if cool weather. In fact the cool days with intermittent sunshine made working a real pleasure. The days were getting longer and he could almost see the crops growing!

His mind however, was troubled, and he knew why that was. In matters concerning his own life and the running of the house and his modest estate he could make decisions and be at peace, no matter whether the decision was good or led to trouble of some sort.

After his evening meditation on the Wednesday, he made up his mind to face the problem. He felt at peace and this was a good mental state to be in to think it through.

Three outcomes. 

They could finish the relationship and part for good. No going back. A clean break to allow her to live her previous successful life, find a partner and live happily ever after. He would get over the loss. After all, they had only known each other a few months. 

Second outcome: they could commit to each other for life – perhaps marry, have children. Thanks to the stuff he'd bought her she could keep in contact with her friends. They could find a way to go on holiday together, or later as a family. Happy ever after. 

Then there was the third option if the first could not be faced nor the second trusted, they could, notwithstanding his misgivings, continue for a while until it became clear what path they should take. Barry said as much, didn't he? After so short a time together they had time to see where things would go. They could talk about it as the months went by – she could see what life was like in the summer, autumn and winter. 

All that would do would be to put off a decision indefinitely. Could they continue to have weekends together? It was far from a perfect option. In fact it was no solution at all.

Those were the options, and he could think of no others. 

Then he got a picture of the Abbey where was on retreat and where he was so well counselled. And it came to him. There was a fourth way.

But was it her decision alone or was it his as well? Was he right to be leaving it all to her? What did he want? He rehearsed all his previous thoughts about the pain if she committed to him and then changed her mind, perhaps after having children. He wanted her to commit and to stay until death did them part, he knew his commitment could and would be total. 

He was in agony. What if she came back and said she wanted to give up her job and live with him for good? What would he reply? That he couldn't take the risk? That she shouldn't take the risk. That he would not allow her to take the risk? Or would he agree and both of them would take the risk?

So initially the decision was hers, but then became his if she opted to stay. 

But perhaps the fourth way would work. A sort of hybrid solution, it was true, but another way of solving the dilemma.

On the Friday she arrived later than usual. 

He had grown used to Angela arriving early in the afternoon on Fridays, and her non-arrival sent fear through him. It boded ill for them. In fact it was after he had finished milking the goats that she arrived. He had kept dinner, a stew waiting in the cooler oven,

She got out of the car with none of her usual eagerness, and walked over to him as he waited. They hugged and kissed, but he felt her reserve, and knew she'd made up her mind.

"You've not eaten?" he asked, and she shook her head. 

"I've finished the animals, so we can eat straight away." They went to the kitchen and he served the stew.

They talked about non-important things, how the week had gone, what Angela had done, the weather and its kindness to him this particular year, but his fears that it would soon be necessary to water the field crops if rain did not come soon.

They ate, still avoiding the subject uppermost in their minds but both feeling a distance between them.

After the meal and after the dishes were washed and put away, Angela asked him "Have you done your meditation?"

"No, not yet."

"Could we do that now?"

"Yes."

They went to the living room and took their places. The peace saturated them. Joseph centred his mind and found he did not get distracted by wondering what she would say: he already thought he knew. What would be would be, and so the hour was still and peaceful.

By contrast, Angela's mind was full of what she was going to say and how she was going to say it. Again she noted how comfortable he was and how welcoming the place was. It came home to her how much she loved him, but how uncertain she was of a future with him. 

Once the hour was up, Joseph extinguished the candle as he always had done, uncurled himself and turned towards her. She remembered how uncomfortable she had been the first time, and how easy it was to stand up now. 

"Shall we have some tea?" he asked, wondering if he were simply putting off the inevitable.

"That would be nice," she said, and her reply sounded forced and unnatural to her.

She sat by the stove in the living room while he prepared the beverage, looking round at the place and already feeling the wrench which she would experience after this evening's talk.




The Smallholder Pt. 03



He brought the tea at length, and they sat, not on the new sofa, but on the two armchairs: another sign of what was to come.

He put his mug down after taking a drink, and sat upright, and she could see he was waiting for her to begin. How typical of him! No comment, no invitation, simply an open posture and a gentle gaze into her eyes. He still seemed to be able to read her inmost thoughts by that gaze.

"I've been rehearsing this over and over, and now it's all gone, and I don't know where to start."

"Someone once said, 'Start at the beginning and then go right through to the end and then stop,'" said Joseph with an encouraging smile, "but I think you should just start anywhere and eventually you'll have said everything you wanted to say. We've got until it gets dark, then I'll have to bed down the animals."

She sighed and looked unhappy. Then seemed to gather her forces and she began.

"I didn't just think over the week, I asked my friends, my parents and even my boss at work. They didn't all agree, but I got quite a round picture of my problem and possible solutions. 

"Janice was in no doubt I should chuck in my job, terminate the flat and come here, but she's a hopeless romantic. Penny who's more level headed was quite clear that there was no reasonable future for me here.

"Greta was the one who seemed to understand the best. She said did I realise that we've only been seeing each other for a very short time, and it was far too early to make decisions about a fixed future. It's only been three months, and I had never made a serious commitment to any of my boyfriends until we'd been going together for a lot longer than that."

"Barry said the same thing. He said you should see what summer and Autumn are like here, before making decisions."

"You talked with Barry about us?" She sounded a little resentful.

"Do you have a problem with that?" he asked her.

"No, er, no," she said. "A surprise that's all."

"He and Mary have known me longest."

She looked blankly at him then shook herself and continued.

"I told Greta that this had not been like other relationships. She said it was based on hero worship and gratitude, and that was not enough. She was not the only one to say that. I said that was not true, we had moved beyond that. I don't think she believed me, but I know we have haven't we?"

Joseph nodded.

"It was when I explained to her that I could not risk committing to you and then finding it was not working out. I told her I understood what a lot of people said – that this life was not for me. They knew me and it would not work out. I couldn't put you through another break up after Susan, and I would have lost my job and my flat and jobs are hard to find. She said that there was my answer."

"Is it?" Joseph asked.

"Greta seemed to be saying I have two ways to go. Either we finish it now, or carry on as before. Purely selfishly, Greta's idea that I could just carry on as we are appealed to me, but after your past experiences I could not suggest that to you. It would hurt you too much."

"So that leaves...?"

"We end it. But I can't face it, Joseph. Every time I come here I feel like I'm at home, and that there's nowhere else I'd rather be, When I get home to my flat I'm already looking forward to coming back the next weekend. I don't know what to do."

Joseph could see she was getting distressed, unable to and unwilling to make a choice. Time to offer the fourth solution.

"While I was at the Abbey," he said, "one of the novices suddenly left the Abbey. I asked my Spiritual Advisor what had happened. He said the man was having doubts about his vocation, and this was shared by the Abbot.

" 'So he's left the order?' I said. 'It seems very final.'

" 'No, no,' my mentor said, 'The Abbot has told him to spend a couple of years 'in the world' and then come back. If he's still uncertain he'll stay out – the Abbey will still be here in a hundred years, it isn't going anywhere' – Brother laughed at that, 'he'll stay out until he's certain one way or the other. He's been asked to return after two years and no sooner to discuss his vocation.' "

Joseph sat and waited, a smile on his face, as she began to process his story. He saw she now understood.

"You mean we separate for a time – a cooling off period? Then I come back and we discuss it again."

"Yes. You will be free to date other people while we're apart – you live a normal life back there, you understand? Then if you're sure you want to come and live with me permanently by then, and I'm sure you're sure, then we make it official. If it's still in the air we say a fond farewell, we'll both know it won't ever work."

She sat and thought. Then, "I'll hate being apart, but perhaps..."

Another pause for thought. 

"How long?" she asked.

"Six months? A year?" Joseph suggested. "Then if you're happy to come here for good, we have a year's engagement and then get married."

"Six months doesn't seem long enough, somehow, but a year...?"

"Too long? How about nine months?"

Angela counted the months on her fingers. "That would mean I come back to talk near the anniversary we first met! That sounds right."

"So do you want to do that?" he asked her. 

She looked sad and was struggling. Then she made up her mind and he could see it.

"I can't see any other solution. So, yes. I think I can do that." She looked worried for a moment. "Can I stay this weekend, our last?"

Joseph smiled lovingly. "Of course."

With both their minds now made up, they went to bed and made love. It was comfortable. Then they settled to sleep feeling everything was settled between them. 

They were wrong.

--- 

Saturday18th April 2009 1 am

Siren. Dog barking in the kitchen. Bob missing.

Joseph was on his feet almost before he was awake, struggling into his clothes as Angela began to wake. That fox again!

He ran to the cupboard in the study and scanned the screens. It was not a fox. All the outside lights had been activated. There were two men at the turbine cages. In the floodlights he could see them using heavy industrial cutters on the gates.

He unlocked the gun cupboard and took one of the two shotguns and loaded it with shot. He made for the back door as Angela emerged sleepily from the bedroom.

"Angela! Phone the police! 999. Two men breaking into the turbines, make sure to tell them I'm taking my shotgun."

She ran to the study and phoned the emergency services and asked for the police. She was giving the message, and watching the screens. She saw Joseph emerge from the back door and begin to walk toward the turbines. 

He travelled about twenty metres when two figures came behind him and one of them struck him on the back of the head with a piece of wood. Joseph dropped on top of the shotgun. The two men then began to kick him. 

She screamed down the phone, "They're kicking him! I'm taking the other gun," and slammed the phone down.

Angela ran to the gun cupboard and took the other shotgun and loaded that with two cartridges from the box Joseph had left out, then ran to the kitchen door. Bob was leaping up and down, frantically barking and throwing himself at the door. She grabbed his collar and opened the door, keeping her back against the wall, Bob was pulling hard against her grip, teeth bared, growling and barking.

"Get away from him!" she yelled.

The two man stopped, looked round and saw her, the gun and the dog. One of the men bent to pick up the other shotgun.

"Leave that and step away from him, or I let the dog loose," she shouted. "Then I'll have both hands free for the gun, and I'll use it."

The two men froze, then took a few paces away from the prone figure of Joseph. Bob was snarling and pulling to be let free. 

"I'll have to let the dog loose to use the gun," she shouted, "Which of you will the dog go for? Back away from him."

The two men stepped further away.

"You don't know anything about guns!" one of the men said laughing, and she recognised the voice as Gerard's, "and you couldn't shoot anyone if you tried."

"Ok, Gerard," she said grimly. "Try me! Bob here hates you, so you can try me if you want! Now the two of you, sit down on the ground – DO IT!" 

Gerard made to move toward her, and Bob bared his teeth and pulled hard at Angela's grip on his collar. Gerard immediately joined the other man on the ground.

In the meantime, the two men who had been working on the cages had been alerted and were approaching.

"Stay there!" shouted Angela. 

They stopped, seeing the dog and the shotgun.

"Ok," she shouted, "I've got one dog, and two barrels. One of you will get away. Who's going to be the lucky one? Want to take that risk? After what you lot have done to Joseph, I'm itching for one of you to try something."

"You can't keep us here all night," shouted one of the the cage men. "There's four of us, and you'll get tired holding the dog and the gun."

There was a moment's silence – even Bob settled a little, and faintly, in the far distance, there could be heard the wail of a number of sirens.

"I'm not staying," said one of the cage men. "Come on Lee," and the two ran off round the other side of the house, zig zagging in case she fired. The remaining three humans could hear their car start and drive off at speed.

Joseph groaned and began to move sluggishly on the ground. 

Angela desperately longed to go to Joseph, but there were two men just waiting for her to lose her concentration on them. She edged towards Joseph. The men were too near.

"Crawl further away," ordered Angela, waving the gun at them. They obeyed and edged further away until she said, "Stop."

Then she moved forward again gingerly, keeping her eyes on the two seated men, now well out of reach. She knelt by Joseph and put her gun down. One hand still firmly grasping Bob's collar, she worked the other shotgun from under Joseph, keeping her eyes firmly on the two crouching men. She took it to the wall of the house and laid it down. She could not break it without letting Bob loose.

It was a split second when she took her eyes of the men, but saw the movement out of the corner of her eye. The man, not Gerard, had launched himself towards her.

She let go of Bob, and retrieved her gun. Bob attacked, a flurry of bites and shaking of the man's arms and legs. The man was kicking, shaking and shouting at the dog, keeping his face well clear of the snapping jaws.

"Bob! LEAVE!" she shouted. Bob immediately left the man, who she could see thought of kicking the dog, but the shotgun was now aiming directly at his legs, and he realised she knew what she was doing, avoiding his face or chest area and that she intended to fire if necessary. "Here, Bob!" and the dog returned.

"Good dog," she said roughing his head, while keeping her eyes and gun on the man.

"Don't shoot!" he begged, shrinking back to where Gerard was sitting, and sitting down himself.

The dog immediately went to Joseph and was licked his face and whining. 

Then came a shout.

"Put the gun down! Raise your hands!"

She broke the gun, ejected the cartridges and laid it on the ground, but ignored the rest of the instruction and dived for Joseph, taking him into her arms. Bob leant against her.

"Joseph? Talk to me Joseph," she stroked his face and kissed him. He groaned but was not really conscious. She began to weep. Then she felt gentle arms pulling her up.

"Come on darling," said a quiet man's voice, "Let's have a look at him." 

She looked up and saw it was a paramedic; he was the early response man. She was helped to her feet. She became conscious of Gerard's voice as she watched the medic checking Joseph over.

"You want to arrest that woman, she threatened us with that gun and set the dog on us! She's mad!"

"Yes sir," said the imperturbable policeman. "Perhaps you can tell me what you are doing here at one in the morning?"

"We were out for a late night walk, and came on that man lying on the ground. Then that woman came at us screaming. She set the dog on us! Look at Craig, that dog savaged him!"

"I'll tell you what he was doing," Angela said, casting glances at Joseph as the ambulance had arrived in the yard and the two personnel from that vehicle had begun lifting Joseph onto a stretcher.

"Four of them," she said tersely, "two were trying to get into the turbines' cages, I assume to sabotage them. Joseph – him," she nodded at Joseph who was now being loaded into the ambulance, "went out to confront them and these two came up behind him and clubbed him. I saw it on the monitors inside the house, so I came out to stop them form kicking him. It's all been recorded.

"The dog is his and wanted to protect him. He," she pointed at Gerard's companion, "tried to rush me, so I let the dog free. He protected me. That'll all have been recorded inside as well."

"Where are you taking him?" she shouted to the crew of the ambulance as they moved to leave. 

"Macclesfield General darling," said the driver. "You coming?"

"I can't leave until I've got someone to look after the animals. I'll follow on, I'm his fiancée." 

She said it without thinking: only a few hours earlier she'd agreed with Joseph they were far from engaged!

The ambulance left, and the police were already taking Gerard and Craig away. One of the other policemen spoke to her.

"Can you show me the CCTV footage?"

"If you help me to collect these guns and the cartridges," she said, and the two of them collected the weaponry, breaking and emptying Joseph's gun, and took them inside.

"We detained the other two," he said as he walked into the kitchen ahead of her. "Met them on the track. We know them."

They went to the study where he helped her to replace the guns in the gun cupboard, and lock it. Then they turned their attention to the monitors and the recorders. He obviously knew what he was doing, for he found the relevant place on the disc and together they watched the drama unfold.

"I'm Stuart Norris," he said as they watched.

"Angela Furness."

"This will be needed, Angela, I need to call SOCO." [Scene Of Crime Officers]

He took out his mobile and looked puzzled.

"Sorry, Stuart, they don't work here. Land line?"

"Thanks."

He phoned and relayed the events to whoever was on the other end, listened and signed off.

"I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me or one of my fellow officers until SOCO get here. They'll have the knowhow to sort out these recordings so they're fit for the courts. It's so easy to mess up with CCTV. You mind?"

"Not at all," she said with a smile. "I suppose we ought to have the obligatory cup of tea, eh?"

"That would be very nice." He had a nice smile, Angela thought, and looked good in uniform!

They sat at the kitchen table and Constable Norris was very interested in her life.

"You live here?" he asked as he sipped the tea she'd made.

"Joseph," she said, "the one who's off to hospital, he lives here. At present I join him at weekends."

She told him about the livestock, the small holding, the turbines and the screw and he was impressed, then about Joseph and his relationship and dealings with with Trevor or Gerard Johnson.

The policeman whistled with surprise as her tale finished, which brought Bob from the living room, looking inquisitive. The policeman petted the dog whose tail was wagging.

"Well, it seems Mr Johnson has a big grudge, which is laughable really, if anyone should bear a grudge it's your boyfriend."

At that moment there was a knock at the door and two officers, one male, one female entered.

They introduced themselves and Angela took them to the study and left them to it. Stuart Norris went with them and stayed with the pair.

After half an hour they returned to the kitchen.

"We've made copies of all the current records. We have to take the originals for evidence, you understand," said the woman officer. "We've reset the CCTV recorders, but I don't think you'll have any more trouble this evening. We checked round and examined the cages, before we came in, and everything seems fine. You'll need new padlocks."

Stuart stood then hesitated. "You'll have to make a statement. D'you want to do it now, or tomorrow?"

"It's now two thirty a.m.," said Angela. "I'll have to be up at six to see to the animals."

"Tomorrow then," Stuart laughed. "Sleep well if briefly!"

"Thanks a bunch!" laughed Angela in return, "Good night Stuart."

"Good night," he said, "Lock up now."

"Don't worry, I will!" Another shared laugh.

What a nice man, she thought as she locked up and then went straight to bed, setting the alarm for five thirty. Bob was already asleep in his bed. She fell asleep immediately, at which she was surprised when she awoke to the alarm feeling like death.

She prized herself out of bed, and walked naked to Bob who was waiting by the front door. She let him out, shivering at the draught of early morning air, and then dressed.

Now what do I have to do? She thought, looking round.

She sat down in the kitchen and saw the stove and the cooker. The first job was to make up the fires, then she opened the back door and Bob obligingly came in. He was wet and she realised he'd been rolling in the dew, for the morning was again fine. She put the kettle on and towelled him dry. 

She wondered what order Joseph did things, but thought he would check the pigs first. She put on her cagoule and a beanie and walked out into a chilling breeze, deep blue sky and the glimmer of an impending sunrise. She checked the piglets had food and water, then went to the goats.

"Morning ladies," she said cheerfully. "Susan, I'm afraid Joseph isn't here this morning, so you've got me." 

She remembered that Susan had to be milked first, and she was surprised when Susan came to her quite naturally. It was hard work milking two of them, but with aching fingers she finished the job and swabbed their teats. She put the churns outside and left some hay for the ladies before going to collect the eggs, letting the hens out and scattering their feed. She would ask Barry about letting the pigs and goats out.

She carried the eggs back and made a second journey for the two smaller milk churns. She made the tea and cut some bread for toast. Then she became aware of something nudging her leg, and found her four legged friend looking inquisitively at her with a tentative wagging of his tail. 

"Oh, you need feeding as well, don't you Bob?" she said, and emptied the food into his bowl which he finished in short order as dogs do. She wondered if dogs ever really tasted any of the food they ate.

She boxed the eggs and put the bread to toast as she heard the Land Rover arriving. Then Barry came bustling in. And stopped. And stared.

"Angela? What's up? Joseph?" conveyed his confusion more than adequately.

"Sit down Barry; here's your tea and toast. We had visitors last night, Joseph's in hospital."

"Bloody hell! What...?"

Angela sat down in front of him with her own tea and toast.

"We were woken by the alarms at about one this morning. Joseph checked the cameras and saw two men breaking into the turbines. He took his shotgun and went out. I phoned the police and told them he had a gun."

Barry smiled, "Allus brings 'em that much quicker," he said. "Go on!"

"By that time I was at the monitors and I saw him out in the yard. He was intent on the two men at the turbines and didn't see two more come up behind him and fell him with a club of some sort. 

"So I got the other shotgun and took Bob. They were kicking him, Barry, so I yelled at them them. Joseph was unconscious, but I couldn't do anything with four of them there. The other two left the cages and started towards me so I told them I had two barrels and a dog, so one of the four would be lucky. Who would it be? The other two stopped then we heard the police sirens, and the turbine breakers took off at a run."




The Smallholder Pt. 03



Barry laughed. "My, lass, that's a laugh – four blokes held off by a slip of a maid – no offence lass!"

She giggled than became serious. "They took Joseph to Macclesfield."

"Aye, they would if they didn't know how bad he was. Bigger place than Buxton and just about as far."

Barry looked round. "But milk, eggs? You?"

Angela smiled. "Someone had to look after the goats, and Susan knows me. Sonia was quite happy as well, which surprised me."

"Very clever, goats are," he said, "They'd know, you being a woman an' all. But did you-"

"All disinfectant procedures were followed to the letter," she said in an officious voice and smiled at his raised eyebrows. "Joseph is a good teacher."

"God girl, we'll make a farmer's wife out of you yet!" he said, and his admiration showed. "Hens were out I saw. But t'others?"

"It's cold this morning, I didn't know whether to let them out or not. I was going to ask you."

"Wise girl! Blimey! Joe couldn't had left the place in better hands. The goats can be let out, no problem: they've got natural overcoats, you can open the door for the pigs. They'll decide if they want to go out. Being so young they may stay inside."

"Thanks Barry. This is all very new to me."

"You'll want to go see Joe, shall us get Mary or Elaine over?" 

"Oh please, Barry. I'll check what needs watering in the glasshouses and should be ready to go after lunch. I'll phone now and see how he is. That is if they'll talk to me."

Barry left with the eggs and milk and Angela made herself a bacon and egg sandwich before taking Bob and going to let the goats out into their paddock and to open the pigs' 'house'. Then she went to the greenhouses and checked that all the seed beds were watered. Finally she simply went for a walk patrolling the vegetable beds. Bob padded along with her everywhere she went. She thought the dog was missing his master and she was the next best thing. She did not mind; he was good company and she could understand Joseph not being lonely with Bob around.

Next came her phone call to the hospital, when she was told that Joseph was conscious and she would be welcome to visit him that afternoon. She made the bed and tidied the kitchen before making herself a coffee and sitting in the kitchen drinking it.

The phone rang. Her spirits leapt thinking it was Joseph, but it was Mary, Barry's wife.

"Joseph rang us earlier worried about the animals, and Barry told him how you'd coped with everything so well, and that put his mind at rest. He was so relieved! We promised him we'd back you up and help out."

"Thanks so much," Angela said. "I'm going to see him this afternoon."

"Elaine will be over about six to help milk the goats, and she'll stay till you've put the rest of them to bed. Ok?"

"I'm so grateful, I'll feel better with some moral support."

"From what Barry said, you are doing just fine – all the milk in and the eggs boxed this morning, and after being awake most of the night! You're a natural, girl!"

"You're very kind, but I don't feel natural."

"Believe me, you'll do, my duck, you'll do! Barry's disinfected the churns – save you the job. You've got enough to do."

After disconnecting, Angela sat in the kitchen and felt at peace. It really did feel like home to her, this kitchen with its smells and natural wood everywhere. 

She arrived at the ward with a bag of apples from the store, and a bunch of grapes and bananas she'd bought on the way. She saw him sitting up in bed, a bandage round his head. He smiled and her heart jumped. She kissed him long and softly.

"I brought some fruit," she said. "For some reason hospitals seem a bit short on providing fruit."

"Thanks," he said. "Barry tells me you sorted all the animals out, and milked both goats! You are amazing!"

"I checked the greenhouses as well, the automatic watering is working well. I wondered if they'd broken any glass or sabotaged the watering, but it seems they were intent on the turbines, at least at first. Anyway, what's with you?"

"It seems I have a fractured skull. They scanned me and I don't seem to have any haemorrhaging, but they want me in until at least tomorrow afternoon to check for concussion, The other bits are bruised where it seems they were kicking me, but nothing broken."

"Well, don't worry about the place. Elaine is going to help me out. I'll see you tomorrow. Perhaps I can take you home."

"How did you deal with four of them? The police just said you were holding them off with a shotgun and Bob?"

"Yes, You know it was Trevor? He was kicking you when I got outside. He scoffed that I didn't know how to handle a gun. I lied and said you'd given me lessons, and anyway I'd have to let Bob go to aim the thing. He's so scared of Bob he never tried anything."

"But the other two?"

"Told them I had two barrels and a dog for four of them, and who was going to be the lucky one!"

Joseph laughed. "I'm so glad we met."  

"If we'd not met you wouldn't be here now," she said, showing her distress. "It's my fault you're here."

"No, my love, it's not your fault. It's the fault of those who did this thing. You were superb from all accounts. I'm just glad you're on my side."

"I am, you know," she said quietly. "Totally." 

Her heart was full at 'my love', and later thought that was when there was a momentous change in her attitude.

To lighten the tone, she asked him about hospital and pretty nurses bathing him. He smiled and said that the pretty nurse who saw to him was a strapping six feet tall male.

"Bet you were disappointed!" she quipped.

"Well..." and his infectious grin surfaced again.

They chatted on and before she knew it, it was time she got back to the cottage. She kissed him again – a promise of future delights when he got home, she told him. He said he thought he would heal all the more quickly for that promise. Another kiss and she left.

Elaine came and milked Sonia, then after a mug of tea and a chat, the two of them rounded up the chickens and shooed the pigs into their house and closed up after leaving enough feed for them. Then Elaine left, hurtling down the lane on her racing bike.

Angela let Bob out, and when he returned, suitably relieved, she locked up, made up the fires, set the alarms and went to bed very early, again sleeping soundly.

It was Mary who came the next morning as she was leaving the house to see to the animals, and who milked Sonia for her. She also collected the eggs and the two women boxed them and loaded them and the milk onto the back of the Land Rover. Barry would not be coming, since Mary was already there. Once again, Barry had disinfected the churns for her.

The two women sat and had their toast and tea.

"So how are things with Joseph and you?" Mary asked. "You were both worrying about whether you could settle in here?"

Angela remembered Joseph had confided in them.

"We decided on Friday night to part for some months to see if I could make up my mind. I didn't want to commit to him and then let him down if I couldn't take this life permanently. He's been too hurt by women not coping before, I mean his mother and Susan."

"Oh," said Mary looking disappointed. She thought for a moment. "You know... I'll say these two things. One: for us women it's not where we are with the man we love, but being with him where ever he is. Two: I've seen girls and women settle well to this life with half the feeling and suitability you have for it, and never look back."

Angela looked at her and again felt that 'something' change in her. It was the same feeling she'd had with Joseph the day before, and she knew then what it was.

"Mary," she said, and stopped.

Mary looked at her and smiled. "Something's changed all that," she said.

"When I looked at the monitors," said Angela, "and saw Joseph knocked down I was not simply upset, I was angry, very angry. This was my man, and this was my house and small-holding. I was defending this way of life as well as Joseph. It's not just a nice warm feeling when I come here, this is home. 

"I knew it even more clearly when I did the rounds yesterday morning on my own. There was no Joseph to lead the way, tell me what he wanted doing, and I still felt this was the life I wanted. If he had died I would have wanted to carry it on. Not that I could have: I'm sure his will has the place sold. Mind you, it would also take a lot of learning, but I knew I could do it.

"I'm sure now. Absolutely sure. As you say, it's Joseph that I've always been sure of, and now no matter what comes my way, I want this life as well, life with him."

"Good on yer, girl," Mary said smiling. "It's so obvious to us you're exactly right for him, and you're already a perfect farmer's wife!"

The two laughed. Then Angela became serious.

"All I need to do now is to convince Joseph." 

"You will, lass, you will."

Mary got up and left, and Angela went out to check the greenhouses. As before Bob came along, padding by her side. She saw the broken padlocks and remembered they would need to buy new ones. She smiled as she caught that thought – 'we' need to buy new ones. She once again walked the vegetable field. Then she opened the barn and checked the hay, and then the woodpile. It was quite depleted, but then the winter was just finished and it would need restocking for next winter.

After coffee, she remembered it was Sunday and that she had missed church. She laughed when she realised she felt guilty! She really was in the same mindset as Joseph, loving the routines he had. She had coffee and then left for the hospital.

"So when are they going to set you free?" she asked with a smile.

He grimaced. "Not today," he said. "I'm fairly sure it'll be tomorrow, I think they just want to be certain in case anything goes wrong and I sue them!" He laughed at the idea, and so did she. They both knew he would never do that.

He looked thoughtful. "Perhaps Barry could come and pick me up," he said. "You'll be back at work. Come to that, I hope Elaine will see to the livestock."

"No need," she said assertively, "I'm not going into work tomorrow. I'll pick you up."

"But your job?" he worried. 

She patted his arm. "I'll get the day off, no problem," she told him. "I want to make sure you're all right before I go back to work. My boss will understand. I any case I want to talk to you before I go back."

"Sounds ominous."

"It isn't, don't worry. I just want to discuss further what we decided on Friday. This incident has given me food for thought, but I want you back at home before I say anything. Is that all right?

"Of course."

Next morning, Barry arrived just after Angela had finished milking both goats. Elaine had joined her the night before.

"Sorry!' he said, "Elaine were supposed to come, but I were out and she overslept – out late with her boyfriend last night after leaving you. She's very sorry. How about I get the eggs for you and you make some tea? I see you've done the milk."

They had their usual tea and toast and after he had left, she quickly did the rounds and found all was well. So she locked up and made the journey to her office, having phoned her boss with the news that she would be late and needed to speak with him.

--- 

Joseph had plenty of time to think as he sat by his bed waiting for a final meeting with the doctor and for Angela's arrival. 

He had awoken as always at 5.30, long before the hospital moved into daytme mode, and he lay from then on thinking about the past months. 

He smiled as in the dim lighting of the ward he had begun to roll out of bed to let Bob out. He had stood by the bed before he realised he was in hospital, and Bob was a long way away. 

Angela! She was lying in his bed back home, she was getting up to let Bob out and follow his routine. He envisaged her making up the stoves, putting on her cagoule and going to milk the goats, and do the other daily jobs.

There was no point trying to meditate: lying down he would fall asleep in no time, and if he were to sit in the lotus position he would attract unwanted attention. He was in no need of either. He knew if he went back to sleep he would feel terrible when he awoke later.

So he lay there and the first thought was that they had decided to separate. He felt a gaping hole in his emotions as he contemplated life without her weekend visits. After they agreed, he had felt at ease with the plan, but now things were different. Somehow he now felt vulnerable living on his own.

He allowed himself the luxury of reminiscing about her arrival at his cottage that rainy January evening, the foggy dark, Bob's sensitive nose picking out her scent in the fine rain, and careering off to find her. Then the feeling of her light frame as he carried her back, and the occasional glimpses of parts of her that should not have been available to him. 

His memory traced the development of their intimacy, leading to that early arrival of hers and her seductive stripping in response to his inadequate towel. He could almost feel their subsequent coupling, the warmness of her pliant body, the twin pressure points of her full breasts and their soft firmness. 

How eager she was to play a full part in the daily round of farming life! How quickly she'd learned the rules and regulations! He got a vivid picture of her surprise, excitement and gratitude when he connected the phone and showed her the television and music player, and the sofa. Then her suggestion that he buy another sofa for the living room, and the good use they made of it!

Crowding in on the happy memories were the times she left and how empty he felt after she went with Trevor in the helicopter. 

Then her worry and urgency about the visitor from the 'planning office', her anger at his trial at the magistrates' court and at Trevor's vindictiveness. That led to a memory of the snowstorm and finding Trevor. Her reluctance to get into bed with the man. His mouth tightened at the man's lack of gratitude for having his life saved, even to coming at dead of night to destroy Joseph's life. If it hadn't been for Angela, Trevor would likely have killed him.

Light had crept through the windows of the ward and he greeted the nurse who came in to give early medication to a couple of the other men in the ward. She gave him a warm smile.

"Hi Joseph!" she said, stopping by his bed. "Been awake since five again?"

He nodded.

"I think we'll be losing you today," she said brightly. "You can go back to cuddling your pet animals!"

It was a running joke once she had found out about his small-holding. He had painstakingly told her they were not pets, but she enjoyed her joke too much to stop. 

"I have someone better to cuddle," he replied with a grin.

"Oh, yes, that gorgeous woman I saw with you. I'm jealous! No chance for me, then?"

"Can you milk goats?" he joshed her.

"You got me there!" she said. "Is she coming for you this morning?"

"She said so," he said. "After she's seen to the livestock."

"Doctor will be in after breakfast," she said. "Then we can sign you off into her obviously capable hands. Joseph, you should make an honest woman of her you know, and soon!"

She went on to the other patients, giving each of them a personal greeting. A woman who loved her job.

Her final comment arrested him in his thoughts. Was it wrong of them to separate? Was it wrong to concentrate on what might go wrong? 

After breakfast, the same nurse extracted his clothes from the cupboard and drew the curtains while he dressed. Then he sat in the chair by the bed.

"Nothing to read?" the nurse asked, seeing him sitting there.

"I've plenty to think about," he said with a smile. "About honest women."

She laughed and walked off. The sun now shone from a clear blue sky and he felt positive about the future, whatever direction it took.

The policeman who had come to take his statement had been Stuart Norris. It was he who told Joseph the details of the events after he lost consciousness. He now knew how distressed she was, how she turned down the invitation to go with him in the ambulance because she needed to look after the livestock.

From Barry he knew how wonderfully she'd coped on her own, and with all these thoughts coalescing he felt more and more strongly that he wanted her with him now, and not in nine months. He suspected he'd been too cautious. Was Angela another Susan? Of course not. If their relationship did not work out, would it have the same effect on him? Who knew? Couldn't he have the same faith in the future as he did when he met Susan? 

Then with a start, memories came flooding in of the years of happiness with Susan and Sonia. He reprised a succession of events and knew at that moment that even so long after their death he had concentrated on her desertion of him, and on her and Sonia's deaths. He had been getting over Trevor's and Susan's treachery and had succeeded, without ever appreciating the good times in that marriage.

He would have to think again about how he could persuade Angela at least to continue to come at weekends, and to work towards making a life together. He knew then that he wanted nothing – no one -- else but her in his life.

The doctor came and pronounced him fit to leave the hospital. Half an hour later, Angela hove into view and his spirits leapt. She had a glowing smile on her lips and dancing eyes and he felt a surge of love for her.

"Ready?" she said redundantly, since he was standing carrying his remaining possessions in a carrier bag. 

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her in full view of the rest of the ward, gaining a round of applause from those patients who were well enough to notice. The nurses wished him well and waved him off.

"Everything ok?" he asked as they drove out of the hospital carpark.

"Yep!" she said with a laugh in her voice. "Sonia's milk yield is down a little. I had to pump up some more water from the beck into the glasshouse tanks. It hadn't run out but it was low. The woodpile is getting low, though there's still plenty of hay. Vegetables are doing nicely, but some of the glasshouse plants are looking ready to plant out. Bit early, there'll be frosts again tonight. I think it's time we moved the hen run." She paused for breath.

"Wow, Angela!" he exclaimed. "You've really got your finger on the pulse of the place."

"Oh, and I've bought two new padlocks for the turbine cages, slightly higher spec than the old ones. Got them on the way to the hospital."

"Are you sure you'll need me?" he asked, laughing.

"Oh, yes, my love, I definitely need you! And so does the farmette." She giggled at the word.

They drove into the yard in front of the cottage and stopped. Joseph alighted and looked at the cottage and then around him, and took a deep satisfying breath, glad to be home. 

Angela opened the front door and both were assaulted by a deliriously happy dog, who ran around their legs, down the hall and back, out the door and back, tail thrashing with excitement, at length stopping to be tousled by Joseph who crouched down to be greeted with a sloppy dog-kiss and a lick. Joseph wrestled with the happy dog while Angela went to the kitchen and put the kettle to boil. Bob did not jump up or bark, but allowed himself a good deal of whining: he had been well trained as a pup.

Bob having been sent to recover from his excitement, the two humans sat at the kitchen table and waited for the tea to brew.

"It was on the local news this morning," Joseph said. "Graham is up before the magistrates this morning charged with a whole rake of offences. The man has lost everything because of his alpha male posturing. My works manager heard he'd been sacked simply on the basis of the press coverage."

Angela did not reply but looked distressed, and it warmed Joseph's heart that she could feel some compassion for Trevor. 




The Smallholder Pt. 03



"It's the stupidity of it," she explained. "So pointless. In other respects he's a nice man. What a fool!" She left the table and poured the tea, setting the mugs on the table with some of his home made biscuits. 

They looked at one another, seeing the one they loved, and wondering how to start. This was a novel experience for Joseph, whose inner peace usually allowed him to speak his mind gently and to the point without undue preparation.

"Angela, my love," he began and she smiled at those words. "I've had time to think, lying in the hospital. I mean about what we decided on Friday."

"So have I." she answered. "And-"

"Can I finish?" he asked gently, reaching out to cover her hand with his own, and she stopped in mid-sentence and gave him an encouraging smile.

"Angela, I don't want us to separate. I want you to keep on coming at weekends, and I want us to grow closer. I think-"

"I'm glad of that," she interrupted, this time intent on her own news. "I realised I don't want to be coming each weekend."

His face dropped, but she gestured him to wait.

She continued, "Because I learned a lot from that attack and being here on my own. Mary said I was farmer's wife material, when she saw how I coped, so I went to see my boss and gave in my resignation. I want to move here permanently, if you'll have me?"

Joseph's face was immediately wreathed in smiles and he reached for her other hand with his own.

"Oh yes, my love," then his expression changed to worry. "Are you sure that's what you want? Jobs are hard to find-"

"Joseph, I won't be looking for a job, not now, not ever. If you get tired of me, I'll find something, but I'm not going anywhere until you throw me out."

He looked so happy. She couldn't remember him ever looking so deeply happy and content as he did at that moment. She remembered his serenity and peace but she'd never seen such exuberance of excitement.

In his turn, he saw deep love and steely determination in her eyes.

"How soon?" he asked. "You need to give notice, don't you?" He realised with some amazement he had never asked exactly what she did at work. 

"My boss saw what happened on the news, and anyway he's been keeping up to date with what he called my 'other job' and sometimes my 'love life'. I think he's been expecting me to resign, 'cos he's already got someone lined up for my job as his PA.

"So he's wrangled me my complete annual holiday allowance and that's the same as my notice period, so I have already left this morning before coming to you! He does want me to keep in touch and act as consultant if he needs me. I get a golden parachute as well! He actually made me retract my resignation, and promptly sacked me so I could get severance pay. He really is a sentimental old darling!"

"So, when?" Joseph asked, and she saw her erstwhile balanced, placid lover even more eager. 

"Today if you want me." 

He sighed with relief. "I want you. You are sure about this?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, Joseph? Yes, I'm certain. I can go back to the flat today and begin moving my stuff. Oh!" she looked worried. "You won't want all my stuff cluttering the house up."

"Bring it all, and we can take it from there." 

He paused. 

"There are a couple of things first though," he said.

She looked puzzled.

"We need to seal the deal, but not in here," and he grinned. She saw immediately what he had in mind and stood as he did, putting out her hand for his.

"Yes," she said, "let's seal it with more than just a kiss! You said a couple of things. What-"

Before she could ask the question he took her hand, dropped to one knee before her. "Shall we plan on marrying, my love?"

It was clear this was the last thing she expected. For a moment she looked confused, then a huge smile crossed her face and her eyes sparkled then began to water.

"Goodness!" she said, "You don't waste any time once you've made up you mind, do you?"

"Well?" he said with a certain intensity, "This kitchen floor is very cold and very hard on the knee."

She dropped to her own two knees rather too swiftly, to face him. "Ouch!" she giggled, as her knees hit the stone, then she became ultra-serious. 

"Oh Joseph, my sweetheart, of course we must marry. Thank you for asking!"

They both burst out laughing at the unusual proposal and even more unusual rather prim reply. Then the laugher ceased as he gathered her into his arms and they kissed at length, kneeling together on the kitchen floor.

"I've not been taking the pill since the attack," she said. "You do understand what that means? You'd better be serious about us getting married."

"I've never been more serious, and I'm really glad you're off the pill."

He stood, lifted her up, swept her into his strong arms, gasped with the pain from his bruised ribs, but carried her onwards into the bedroom.

He put her down and she immediately began to shed her clothes until she was naked, and meanwhile he had done the same. The room was warm so they lay on top of the bedding. Joseph kissed her hotly, then trailed his kisses down her body over her breasts and down further, when she stopped him.

"No lover, I want you now. I want you now." 

She pulled him up so he was covering her. She placed him where she wanted him and he pushed into her deeply while she gasped and panted and grabbed his bottom, spreading her legs wider and pushing him further in till his root was pressed on her mound. Everything felt tight to both.

She was tilting and raising her hips even before he began to thrust in her.

"That's it, my Joseph, my man! Harder! Harder!"

He did as he was told, his bottom cheeks flexing as he withdrew then buried himself in her again and again, while she cried out with each thrust.

"Oh, Joseph, so good! You animal! So fucking good! Love me sweetheart! Fuck your pussy!"

He was amazed at her language, its earthiness and bawdiness. Susan had never said a word when they coupled, beyond wordless grunts, moans and cries. Angela was something else! But he could not reciprocate, but cried out wordlessly in his deep baritone with each pounding push.

She came with a high pitched scream, forced from her stretched vocal chords by the power of her climax, as she shook with the tremors of it.

Feeling this, he lost himself and gave a strangled roar, feeling the life forcing itself from him, once, twice, and more.

Slowly the intensity waned and he fell panting onto her prone body, her razor nipples pricking his chest. She rejoiced in the weight of him, and pulled him more tightly to her, causing a groan of pain from his bruised chest, at which she pushed him up.

"So sorry," she moaned, "I forgot how hurt-"

"Ssh!" he whispered, "It's all right."

He moved off her and they embraced, entwining legs and holding each other close. They sighed.

"We really are engaged now, aren't we?" she giggled at the double entendre, than added "Really together for good?" It was not really a question, but he answered anyway.

"Yes, we really are together. We are a family now."

She loved that thought.

By common consent, they did not lie together for long. Joseph wanted to take her into town to buy her a ring, and then onward to take a load of her possessions from the flat. They took the Range Rover since it had more room,

There was some argument over the ring, he wanting a more expensive diamond and she wanting to save him money. He won. The ring was gold, with a large diamond surrounded by a cluster of small ones. Fortunately it fitted her finger without needing to be altered. At the same time they chose matching wedding rings which did need adjusting, and so were left with the jeweller.

Then on to her flat, she glancing at her ring every few minutes and sighing contentedly. She left a change of clothes and some toiletries in case she needed to stay there overnight before the lease ran out, and they loaded the car to the roof with her favourite possessions. There would be many more trips before all she wanted had been moved, and the lease terminated.

They put all her things in one of the big rooms at the head of the stairs, and then it was time to see to the animals, meditation and an early night. It may have been an early night, but it was quite some time, taken up with energetic exercise, before Angela eventually fell into a satiated sleep.

Joseph did not sleep immediately. In his half awake, half asleep state he had a picture of a wet and shivering young woman on a dark hillside, and the start of something so amazing he could never have imagined it. Now with this same beautiful woman sleeping with contentment written all over her pretty face, he knew that until this day he had not been fully whole. 

Oh, he had been content after a fashion, but this fulness, completeness, far surpassed anything he could have hoped for. God could not 'add' anything more to his happiness unless of course He granted them children, and Joseph felt deep gratitude as he fell asleep in his turn.

For the first time since Angela had first awoken in his bed she came to consciousness before Joseph, in the darkness of the very early morning. She felt his bulk next to her, as she lay on her side facing his broad back. In that darkness, that peace, she knew for certain that she had made the right decision: she had never ever felt so much at home as she did here, with him. How little she needed to be happy, to be deeply content! A sense of complete security and love swept over her, and she pressed herself gently against his back.

--- 

Postscript.

July 2014

Joseph uncurled himself from his lotus position on the floor of the study after his evening meditation. The little altar that had been in the living room had been moved into the study, and the old photos had gone, their place taken by three new ones, one of Joseph and Angela on their wedding day, and one of little Annabel standing triumphantly with a huge grin on her little face – 'Look I can stand up!' The third was of Angela with baby Jonathan in her arms. Unlike two of the three previous photographs, these were all of the living rather than the dead. The dead had been forgiven and laid to rest.

He emerged from the study, his bare feet enjoying the carpets which now graced all the floors, and made his way into the living room. 

As he entered Angela looked up from her position on the sofa, where she had been breast-feeding Jonathan. Her beautiful face was the picture of serenity and peaceful calm, and his heart surged with love for her, as it had so often before. The baby was asleep in her arms and his little face looked content.

"You make a lovely picture," he said quietly so as not to wake the baby. "I think feeding him is as good as a meditation session for you."

"Yes," she said. "In fact I do meditate while he feeds. My mind centres well, because it centres on him."

"You know that woman, the one who took shelter in the kitchen this afternoon from the rain," he volunteered, "She said how restful the house was, and how happy you seemed. She wished she was as stress-free and happy you were."

"You remember how we were so uncertain that I would survive the life here? How worried?" She smiled. "It was all unnecessary. Our friends keep visiting; we hardly get a weekend to ourselves. They love it here."

"Yes, and it was poor Trevor Graham, who was the catalyst to bring you here and by his vendetta was the reason our fears were overruled," he reflected. "Strange that so much ill-will could bring about our life together. He should be out of prison now."

"I think he's learned his lesson, I couldn't believe it when he asked us to visit him, and he was so different. Somehow more settled, less aggressive." She sighed. "I hope so."

"He said he'd had time to think, and that's certainly true. I think he knows now he can just be himself. He said he couldn't believe in retrospect what he'd done, and how ungrateful he'd been – how violent."

"I think he needed that time in prison, like you needed that time at the Monastery. I hope he comes out of it as well balanced as you did." She shifted on the sofa, but the baby did not stir. "Time for bed," she said. "Another busy day tomorrow. I love these early summer mornings."

Joseph stooped to pick up the baby. "You are such a natural farmer's wife, exactly as Barry and Mary predicted."

"I can't think of living any other sort of life now. Compared with this, my life was really pretty empty. You fill my life now – and our two little devils of course."

"And you mine," he kissed her forehead. "So all is well."

"Julian of Norwich was right," she smiled at her husband standing there holding their son, looking so much at ease. "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well." 

It was true; they both knew it, and off they went to bed.