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.