Lettuces and Cream (11 page)

‘Um, not really,’ Mike said hesitantly, ‘not just at the moment.’

‘No, we really can’t afford it just now,’ Jan reinforced.

‘Come and take a look at her, she’s in calf – due about three weeks after Pinky she’s a good milker - hundred quid to you,’ she grinned showing her glorious yellow and rotting teeth.

She led them outside and pointed to one of the wandering beasts. Upon seeing Mary the young Jersey cow sauntered over to her. It was certainly very tame, and Mike could tell that Jan had already taken a liking to it. It was a very pretty animal, not overpoweringly big, and Jan quickly noted the large brown eyes and the long black eye lashes that any glamour girl would die for. The fur was short, glossy and brownish beige in colour. All together, with her shiny, moist black nose, she was, in their eyes, beautiful.

‘Yes she is lovely, but we really can’t afford her at the moment,’ Jan said in rather a sad tone…

Thursday midday, and the inspection by Mucky Mary, as to whether or not they were suitable ‘parents,’ and that the housing was top class, came and went. And at three thirty when the children returned from school they were ushered into the barn.

‘This is Pinky, what do you think kids?’ Pinky the pig grunted happily in her new pen and at the attention that she was getting.

‘Cor, dad it’s really big, but it doesn’t smell much.’ Mandy took a huge sniff of the air.

‘It’s a she, not an it,’ David corrected, ‘and I can smell something.’

‘Oh, that could be your mother,’ Mike joked, his humour was getting earthier by the day - and he mildly swore more often. Jan thought it must be the local influence.’Mike, behave,’ Jan scolded light heartedly.

‘And, come outside to the field for a minute.’ The children had only just walked home from school and were still carrying their satchels, but dutifully followed their mother and father out of the barn and to the field gate and peered into the field.

‘Oo, a cow,’ said Mandy enthusiastically, ‘has she got a name. Will she have a baby cow?’ Even though Mandy was a very young female, reproduction was already of enormous interest to her.

‘Yes she’s having a calf soon, and the woman we bought her from calls her Primrose. But we could change it if you like.’

‘I like Primrose. Will I be able to ride on her, Mum?’

David gave a sigh of total disgust, ‘Cows, pigs, huh, I want a dog, you promised,’ and headed back to the house.

‘No, love, of course not, it’s a cow not a horse.’

‘Well, can I ride on the pig then?’

‘I don’t think that would be a good idea, sweetheart.’

‘Well, can we have a horse too, Dad?.

‘Not at the moment, love, they’re far too expensive,’ Mandy gave a groan of disappointment, lost interest, and she too headed to the house.

‘Ah well, so much for giving the kids a surprise,’ Jan said with a laugh.

‘Yeah, but he’s right, I did promise him a dog when we moved here, he’s been asking for ages,’ Mike was ashamed at the fact. ‘We’ll ask around, someone must have a pup we could get for them.’

That evening, with the much laboured over meal cleared, Jan was in a good mood. Thursday night, one more day and then the weekend, so no frantic rushing around getting the kids ready. And it would soon be half term. If Jan was happy then Mike was too. That’s how it was with them. If one of them had a down moment then so did they both, and then each would work to cheer the other. It was a good spontaneous system - it worked. Well, usually.

They were all in the sitting room – the warmest in the house, the kids busy with kiddie things, Jan sewing and Mike had bought a copy of The Farmer and Stock Breeder and was browsing the contents. With a pig to feed, and soon a cow to milk, he was feeling more like a farmer then a nurseryman. But it was interesting how the ambience of the whole place had changed now that there were animals in the field and barn. Yes it meant more routine work, but to see and hear life around him felt somehow comforting and satisfying. Mike and Jan were now really part of the countryside.

Mike got up and crossed over to the fire to put on more logs. They were finding an old detached house on a hill, and in open countryside, much colder than their old terraced house in town.

‘I think I’ll have to get a chain saw to cut up more wood. We are using so much of it I can’t keep up with it cutting by hand.’

Jan frowned. ‘Aren’t they expensive though?’

‘I’ve no idea, but I’ve got to go to Porth on Saturday to get some pig food. I’ll have a look. Like everything else, love, there are cheap ones and expensive ones I expect. A cheap one would do the job I suppose And another thing I’ve been wondering about what to do with those old hens. We’re not getting any eggs but they still need feeding. It would save some money if we got rid of them and got some young hens in the spring. What do you think?’

Save money, it was music to Jan’s ears. It wasn’t a big saving but every little helped.

‘Good idea, but how do we get rid of them?’

‘Not sure, wring their necks I suppose, not that I’ve ever done it.’

‘Sounds a bit gruesome.’

‘Yeah, but someone has to do it.’

‘I’m giving the W.I. a try tomorrow night, I’ll ask Ann what they do with old hens.’

‘Okay, see what she says, Jan.’

‘What I really need is a real cooker. Do you think we could get a Rayburn soon? I don’t know how I am going to manage when our parent’s visit I can’t cook for all of us on that toy town camping thing.’

‘Mum, could I play with it.’

‘With what, love?’

‘The toy town cooker thing - for my dolls.’

Jan and Mike laughed, ‘Not really, its a bit dangerous.’

‘Aw mum,’ Mandy whined.

‘But you could always help me with the washing up.’ How clever, that did it, Mandy fell strangely quiet and said no more.

‘Well, I suppose we could get the Rayburn fitted now, we can always move it when the kitchen is rebuilt.’

‘That would be really great, Mike, but it’s going to be really expensive isn’t it,’ Jan pondered.

‘When are you seeing Chris next, perhaps she or Keith know where we can get one cheap? Second hand would be okay.’

Jan didn’t flinch but her stomach gave a lurch of excitement or was it guilt, at the mention of Chris? Mike puffed on his cigarette unconcernedly.

‘That reminds me, it’s Am Dram next Monday,and I forgot to say the other day that Chris thinks I’ll get part in the Panto, if I do it will be every Monday and perhaps other days too. Is that okay?’

Mike didn’t even raise his head from his magazine. ‘Yeah fine, I remember, lots of rehearsals. It’s getting more like the old days by the minute.’

Jan didn’t know quite how to take that remark, but said nothing. She certainly didn’t want to go back to every aspect of their old life back in town. Nor reawaken all those uncertainties of their marriage, which, she now believed, were well and truly over. Mike lit up another cigarette.

‘Another cigarette Mike? you’ve just put one out.’

‘Yeah well I’ve gone over to these cheap Number Six, tipped things. Trouble is they’re only half the size of Senior Service fags.’

‘Not much saving there then, is there?’ I don’t know why you don’t give them up.’ Jan said in a rather self-righteous tone. Mike thought that people who give up smoking are such a superior pain in the bum, so he ignored the comment.

‘Dad.’

‘Yes son.’

‘Can I have a mouse?’

‘A mouse? I don’t know about that, David. Why do you want a mouse?’

‘This boy in school in selling little white mice, with pink eyes. They’re only a twenty pence each.’

Mandy looked up from her drawing book, ‘I don’t like mice Mum, what if it got out into my room.’

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea, David, and have you put that beetle out yet?’ Jan asked.

‘Yeah, I put it in one of the poly-tunnels and it ran away. It was my best beetle –ever.

‘I hope it’s not a lettuce eating beetle,’ Mike joked, ‘I’ll tell you what, we’ll definitely, definitely look for a puppy, promise, okay?’ Mike looked towards Jan. ‘Okay, Mum?’ Mike asked, Jan nodded in agreement.

‘Oh, great Dad, Mum, thanks,’ David and Mandy gave little cheers of excitement.

‘Dad, can I come to Porth with you on Saturday?’

‘If you want to son, it’s not very interesting though, I’m only getting some pig nosh.’

‘I want to buy a comic and some sweets with my pocket money.’

‘That’s okay son. We’ll go soon as we’ve had breakfast because I think the Farmers Yard shop shuts at twelve on Saturdays.’

‘Do you want anything, Darl?’

‘Better get some emulsion for the spare room. It looks pretty ropey even though I’ve washed it down. Magnolia will do for now.’

‘Okey Doky, shall do, and what about you Mandy, don’t you want sweets or something?’

‘No thank you, I’m saving up for a pony,’ she said in stoic tone.

Mike and Jan stifled a laugh.

‘That’s very thrifty of you sweetheart. You should have enough in about twenty years time.’

‘Don’t tease her Mike’

‘Daad.’

‘Yes love?’

‘What’s a thrifty?’

Saturday morning, and a low lying mist was obliterating the view of the lower valley. Only the taller leafless trees and hilltops, poked through the fog. A bleary, red Autumn sun lit the landscape a beautiful pale pink, it looked like a Disney land scene. Mike and Jan both spent a lot of time watching the skies. It was still a revelation to see so much of it, and the huge variety of cloud shapes and colours. And they would often call each other to come out side to see a particularly spectacular combination.

‘Time to get up, son,’ Mike shouted up the stairs, ‘I’ve had my breakfast already - and checked the animals.’

‘Coming Dad,’ David rattled down the uncarpeted old stairs and rushed into the kitchen.’

‘Good boy, have your breakfast and we’ll be off.’

‘I’ve got fifty pence to spend, Dad.’

‘Ten shillings,’ Mike said, converting to comforting ‘real’ money, ‘cor, if we had ten bob at your age we could have bought the whole of Woolworths.’

‘Don’t exaggerate Mike,’ Jan laughed, ‘only half of it.’

‘Two and sixpence would have been a fortune,’ Mike continued.

‘You sound like an old man,’ Jan grinned, ‘going on about the ‘old days.’

Mike too laughed at the silliness of it all.

‘Righto sunshine, ready?’

‘Yes dad, bye mum.’

It was about half past eleven when Mike and David drove back into the yard. Mike turned off the engine and stared ahead. David too was somewhat dumbstruck.

‘What the hell is going on?’

‘It’s those funny Welsh ladies again, dad.’

The Three Bears had returned. Not that Mike had seen them before, but they were easily recognised from Jan’s description. However, this time they were not in their Sunday best, but dressed for a killing spree. Each of them were wearing workaday clothes and had, tied around their waist with baling twine, crude aprons consisting of a Hessian sack, bearing the logo ‘Best British Potatoes.’ And of course their Wellingtons. Middle bear, Ann, and Little bear were sitting on old wooden packing boxes taken from the barn, and were de- feathering decidedly dead and bedraggled hens. As they worked, the heap of feathers around their legs grew ever deeper. Occasionally the breeze would chase the tiniest finest feathers around the yard and then waft them high into the air. They were chatting in their Mother tongue and occasionally screeched with raucous laughter. Then, from inside the barn where the fowls had been penned, Big Bear appeared holding a squawking hen by it’s legs. Striding across to the seated workers, she held the critter by its neck and gave a swift pull. The squawking stopped abruptly, and Big Bear took up her place besides the others and began adding to the pile of feathers. Mike had never seen anything like it. Certainly he had never killed anything larger than a garden slug. He had been so mesmerized by scene; he hadn’t thought that the killing might upset David. However he was unconcerned and engrossed in the comic he’d bought in town.

‘Right, son, we better go in and see your mum and find out what’s going on.’

The women had given Mike the slightest of glances when the van came into the yard. Now as he and David got out, there was even less interest. They gave a brief nod as he passed and continued with their chatter.

In the house another surprise awaiting him. Jan was at the large kitchen table with her hand deep inside a naked hen. A bucket on the floor contained much pink and bloody bits and pieces of hen innards.

‘My God Jan what’s all this about?’

‘I know, I know, it’s not my idea. I just mentioned the hen business to Ann the other evening at the W.I, and then this morning she and her pals turn up to do ‘the business’ as she said. To be fair they’re only trying to help us out –I think they enjoy showing us townies the ropes.’

‘But what the hell are you doing with all this chicken meat?’

‘Well - they say the best thing to do with old hens is to make them into chicken pies.

‘Blimey, we’ll be eating pies for ever.’

‘Ann says only about ten of them will be any good the others will be too old or skinny and she said to chuck them on the muck heap – or bury them.’

‘We haven’t got a muck heap – yet, so I’ll have to dig a hole somewhere. Anyway, how did you know how to clean them?’

‘I didn’t did I, they showed me how to do it – not a nice job but lots of cheap pies,saves us money. The trouble is, our freezer is still stuck in the barn – we haven’t used it since we’ve been here. Well, there’s no room in here anyway. Do you think you could rig something up to get electric to the barn and start it up?’

Mike gave a huge sigh, he hadn’t had his elevenses yet and he needed his caffeine boost.

‘I suppose so – no peace for the wicked. We could do with electric over there anyway. I’ll see what I can do for now, though it’s a pity I didn’t know about it before. I could have bought some proper power cable in town.’

‘Yeah, I know love, sorry, I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ Jan said sympathetically, and dropped another handful of slippery innards into the bucket.

Mike stood purposefully back out into the yard, however the testing of his commitment to country living wasn’t over.