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Authors: Summer Jordan

BOOK: BREAK ME FREE
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Chapter Twenty

 

 

The cockerel called as the sun threatened to break free from the nocturnal horizon.
 Beatrice stood at the bathroom sink while Bruce showered. She dried her face with her a soft towel. “After the whirlwind of the last few days, we haven’t had a real chance to talk about our two new housemates.”

“Aye.”

“They are in love aren’t they.”

“I would say so.” Bruce rubbed soap in his long beard. “I don’t blame Serge,
 Tanya could be Marilyn Monroe ... reincarnated.”

“Don’t get too excited Bruce, I’m watching you.”

Bruce sighed as he washed his nether regions. “It’s not worked in couple of years.”

“That’s the only reason I let her stay.”

“It’s only reason I was brave enough to ask.”

“It would be nice to get them together.”

“I don’t doubt they will.”

Beatrice walked into the bedroom where she had laid her clothes out on the bed.
 “Think Serge was a married man who ran off with his mistress?”

“Maybe. He hasn’t mentioned anything.”

“He wouldn’t though would he?”

“I suppose not. It would explain the age difference anyway.” Bruce smiled as he
 switched off the shower. “He told me they worked together before coming up here, perhaps that’s how it all started.”

“Let’s do some digging today, it would only be right to know more about the people
 living under our roof.”

“Aye it is.”

* * * *

The air was silent as Tanya slept soundly in her bed. The stillness came to an abrupt
 end when a loud rattle on her door caused her to wake. She blinked and rubbed sleep from her eyes. The room was still dark as the sun was yet to rise. “Hello?”

“Wakey wakey Tanya.”

Tanya shivered at the sound of Beatrice’s wake up call. “All right … I’m up.”

 
“Freshly made bread is on the kitchen table. Porridge is on the stove.”

“Thanks.”

Rolling her head on her pillow, Tanya picked up her gold wrist watch. “Five thirty? Who wakes at five thirty?” Tanya licked on the bedside lamp. Lying on the bed, she lazily gazed around the pink bedroom. Pictures of a young girl occupied various sized frames on the dresser as well as the three of the walls. They caught the fair-haired girl at various stages of her childhood, all the way until she reached young adulthood. The only thing that didn’t change throughout her years was the girl’s wide pearly smile.

             
Only half awake, Tanya shuffled from the bedroom into the kitchen. Stepping into the kitchen she covered her face as she saw Serge already dressed in his outdoor clothes, ready to farm.

“Morning.” Serge laughed as he watched her face away from him. “What’s up?”

“I just realised you haven’t seen me in my make up … I must look terrible.”

“Don’t be daft.”

              Hungry and short on time, Tanya had no choice but to sit at the table. Fresh bread and jam were laid out in front of her as a steaming pot of porridge rested on a pan stand in the centre of the table.

“Want some bread slicing?”

“Please.”

Serge stood and leaned over the table as he sliced the bread with a serrated bread
 knife. “I read your letter last night.”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t quite know how to say it face to face, so I wrote it down.”

“No problem. It put a smile on my face. I just hope this is a fresh start for the both of us.”

Tanya dropped a dollop of homemade raspberry jam on to her bread and spread
 it with her butter knife. “Fingers crossed, hey.” She took a bite and smiled as she chewed.

“So I suppose Beatrice has the day already planned out for you.”

“Yeah the full spring clean starts today.”

“I do think I drew the short straw this morning
, though.”

“Whatever.”

Serge folded his arms. “Me and Bruce are cleaning the main barn after four months of wintering the cattle.”

“That’s a lot of shit you’ll be clearing out.”

“Not had to put up with so much shit since I last sat and talked to Igor.”

             
“Suddenly cleaning floors and dusting ornaments seems a breeze.”

             
The roar of the tractor engine from the yard caused Serge to stand. “That’s Bruce warming up his tractor. Right, I’m off, I’ll see you this afternoon.” Serge stepped beside Tanya and hovered, lingering closely before coyly leaning over to kiss her.

Tanya turned to face him with a smile causing him to bolt up straight. “You ok?”

              “Yeah, just though I forgot something.” Blushing, Serge patted her on the head.

“See you this evening.”

Tanya sighed as the kitchen door slammed behind Serge. “Have fun.”

* * * *

Tanya hummed a tune from her childhood as she washed the breakfast dishes. She smiled as Beatrice opened the backdoor and stepped into the kitchen. “Thought I’d make a start while you were out.”

             
“Good to see you using your initiative. I think we’ll make a good team, Tanya.”

“Your daughter's room is nice.”

“Good. Glad you liked it. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. It’s the kind of room I would have loved as a young girl.”

Beatrice lifted a bunch of letters from her basket. “Would have loved?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Oh... OK.”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, it’s just... Well
, I was fostered as a child.”

“Oh were you?” Beatrice glanced at the floor.”I’m sorry to hear that.”

              “It wasn’t always bad. I did have some beautiful rooms. But they didn’t feel right.”

Tanya glanced at Beatrice. “Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes of course. There’s nothing better than your own bed.”

             
“But sleeping in your daughter’s bed last night… I could feel the warmth of the room.”

“I thought it was a cold night actually.”

Tanya burst out laughing. “Don’t get me wrong, I was bloody freezing. I suppose what I trying to say was that I could tell your daughter felt loved. She’s looks very happy on all her pictures. It gives the room a really warm vibe.”

“That’s our Rosie
…. She was a cheeky little thing growing up.”

“She does have a mischievous smile.”

“We did do our best for the three of them. I like to think the fact they’re all happy and successful now, has a little something to do with how Bruce and I brought them up.”

             
Beatrice sat at the table and sifted through the morning's post. She could see Tanya’s dreamy face as she peered through the window at Serge. “Aye, what I wouldn’t do to be young and loved up again.”

Tanya chuckled as she rinsed a plate under the cold water tap. “What do you
 mean?”

“It’s clear to me that you fancy the pants off each other. What’s stopping you both
 getting together?”

“I don’t know
… I have just come out of a relationship.”

“Oh have you.” Beatrice pulled a letter free from
its envelope. “So it’s complicated?”

“No, not really, Neither of us were married or anything.”

“Oh, OK.”

“It’s just I made a terrible mistake with my last man. I want to make sure Serge is right for
 me.”

“I think just the fact you’re both here together makes me think
 that you both have already made that decision.”

Tanya pulled the plug from the sink. “Maybe you're right, it’s just that I’ve known him
 for years and he is a good friend. It’s a little strange when we get close.”

“I’ve seen other couples overcome such things. Bruce’s own brother was friends with
 his wife since school.” Beatrice screwed up a junk letter and tossed it into the bin. “They married different people, but got together years after their own marriages fell apart. They’ve now been happy.”

“Maybe it’s thoughts of my ex that are getting in the way.”

“Are you still stuck on your former partner? Are you struggling to move on?”

“No.” Tanya cleaned the top of the counters. “He was a total bastard.”

“You have had it rough haven’t you, poor girl.”

“He was abusive
… in every way.” Tanya mopped around the sink with her tea towel. “When I said thoughts of my ex, I meant Serge might be still worried about him. You see, Serge saved me from him.”

“And brought you here?”

“Yeah. He wants a fresh start for the both of us.”

“Wants to marry you, if you ask me.”

Tanya smiled a wide grin. “No ….” She laughed out aloud. “D … Do you think so?”

“Of course he does. He’s known you for a long time, rescued you from a tyrant and
 brought you to safety. It’s bloody obvious he wants you as his girl.”

Tanya rolled her tongue and placed her hands on her hips. “You don’t think he could
 just be a very good friend?”

“No, he definitely loves you.”

“But what if I put my neck out and get rejected …? I’ll look like a bloody idiot.”

“We all have to take that risk at one time or another. Anyway, believe me. There’s
 little chance of that …. Trust me.”

* * * *

Serge carted a wheelbarrow of manure from the barn. He wheeled it up a narrow wooden ramp that led into the back of the tractor’s trailer. Dumping the manure, he returned to the barn where he dropped the wheelbarrow at Bruce’s feet. “Hope this smell is as good for your lungs as you claim it to be.”

“There’s nothing better.” Bruce emptied his shovel into the wheelbarrow. “How is the
 trailer?”

“Almost full. I say a couple more and you can take it away.”

“That was quick. I must admit, I thought you would have been running to the hills before we filled our first trailer.”

“What? Never.”

“So what were the farms you grew up on like?”

“I didn’t grow up on any farm. But to earn some money I used to
labour on weekends and holidays as a child.”

“Right.”

“They were very basic, more often than not we used horses and oxen to do our heavy work.”

             
“God, really? That is a time gone by.” Bruce dug his shovel into the steaming manure.

“No wonder you’re used to a bit of hard graft.”

“Some of the luckier farmers had old soviet tractors dating back to the war and before. But my favourite one was an old steam tractor.”

“Aye, love my old steam tractor engines.”

“As a child I remember.” Serge scratched his nose. “I used to watch that thing for ages, the smell of the hot oil and burning coal. Sure smells better than this shit.”

“I escape my wife once a year to go and visited the Royal Scottish show. They have
 loads of steam engines out on show there. It’s heaven for me.”

“You’ll have to take me this year. When is it held?”

Bruce smiled behind his scraggy grey beard. “The first week in August.”

“Right, I’ll book it in my diary.”

“Gives us a couple of days away from the wives.”

Serge crossed him arms. “Yeah.”

“I used the word wives deliberately.”

“I thought you did.”

Bruce ran his fingers through his beard, pulling at the knots. Sweat began to gather on his forehead as he summed up the courage to find more about his friend. “Marry the girl, she is a beauty.”

“I haven’t even kissed her yet.”

“I can’t believe that for a second.”

“I tried
… today in fact. I crumbled like a school boy.”

Bruce’s beard parted with a smile. “Christ. Y
… You're not a virgin are you?”

“No
…. Fuck off Bruce.” Serge laughed and pushed Bruce on his shoulder. “I was married years ago. It’s just … I don’t know what it is, really.”

“Get her out. Have a few whiskies, so you’re relaxed. Then kiss her.”

“I know, I’ll have to try something, because this is driving me mad.”

             
“There was a saying when I was young, whisky makes you frisky, brandy makes you randy while rum makes you ….”

“OK, Bruce. I better stay away from the rum.”

* * * *

             
Tanya rubbed the sweat off her brow as she leaned on the mop. She glanced at

             
Beatrice who stood in the corner of the sitting room, dusting a small china ornament.

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