Lettuces and Cream (22 page)

Opening the front door he called out, ‘Jan, Jan could you come here. I’ve had a bit of an accident,’ deliberately understating the situation so as not to panic her.

‘What have you done now,’ Jan called back relatively cheerfully as she was well used to his frequent minor cuts and injuries. Reaching the doorway could see the pained look on Mikes face.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I had a fall and somehow the stack of blocks fell on my leg - I think it’s broken.’

‘Oh, Mike, love, it must hurt.’

‘Does a bit, I don’t think we can patch this one ourselves, I’m really sorry, Darl, but we’ve got to get to the hospital.’

‘All that way to Abersoch, we’ve got the phone now, should we call an ambulance?’

‘God, no, an ambulance out here-it wouldn’t get down the track? No, it will be quicker if you drive me up.’

‘What about the kids?’

‘They won’t be home for another couple of hours we should be back by then.’

‘Okay, stay there, I’ll get my coat and the car keys’

The drive to the hospital wasn’t a comfortable one for Mike, and between his oh’s and ah’s of discomfort, he cursed him self for being so stupid. Just as things seemed to be improving for them, this had to happen, and he was beginning to believe his fanciful idea that the place was cursed. How the hell were they going to cope now?

Later that afternoon they were back from the hospital, and Mike was dosed up with painkillers and sitting by the Rayburn.

‘Oh that’s great Keith I’m a quick learner so we won’t bother you for long. Thanks again, Keith.’ Jan put down the phone and went to tell Mike the news ‘There we are, I know you didn’t want me to ring him but I was pretty sure he’d help us out for a day or two. Actually we were lucky he was home today.’

‘That’s great, but I could have managed to do the milking.’

‘Stop worrying love, Keith’s going to teach me how milk so that won’t be a problem now will it? And he said he’d lay the last few blocks on the new pen so that will be done as well. And he’s bringing over a couple of bales of hay that you asked for. It was an accident, not your fault; so stop beating yourself about it. Just take it easy for a couple of days until the swelling goes down and it stops hurting so much.’

‘Yeah you’re right. I suppose we were lucky he was at home’ Mike hadn’t wanted to ask Keith but Jan had insisted they had to ask someone for help. It made Mike feel very foolish and inadequate.

‘Apparently he goes up North less and less now. His dad is much is so much better, he can cope on his own.

‘There’s so much to do here though. The next lot of tunnels will be here next week,’ Mike said gloomily.

‘I know, but I expect we will survive, cheer up.’

At this moment Mike wasn’t to sure about that. The setbacks and delays were mounting. ‘When trouble starts, it never knows when to stop,’ as Mikes dear old Grandmother used to say. How right she appeared to be.

When the children came home from school they were immensely intrigued, but not particularly sympathetic, by the lump of plaster on their fathers leg. And David wanted to decorate the virgin white surface in typical schoolboy manner. He remembered a couple of years back when he had broken his arm whilst pretending to be Superman. By the time the plaster was due to come off it was covered in graffiti. Mandy and David were determined their father would fare no better, and that evening by the fireside, Mike allowed them a happy half hour with their felt pens. Not that he was feeling very cheerful. He couldn’t believe what had happened, such a simple accident. But his tenacity to his aims gave him the optimistic thought that when he got the hang of not bending one leg, he would be able to get around and get some jobs done. However, some would have to wait.

Next morning they were awakened by Keith’s early arrival in the yard. Jan dressed in a rush and dashed downstairs to the door.

‘Keith, you’re early.’

He smiled ‘Well aye man, real farmers are up at dawn.’ He sounded cheerful but a little embarrassed with his teaching role, and looked at the ground and brushed his large fat fingered hand through his mop of curly black hair.

At this point Mike appeared at the bedroom window and he struggled to slide the old sash window open.

‘Hi Keith thanks for coming over,’ Mike called down.

‘How’s the leg, man?’

‘Oh okay, mind you it’s like sleeping with half a ton of concrete in the bed with you’

‘Aye, that will keep you out of mischief,’ Keith responded, unsmilingly.

‘I’ll be down in a minute.’

‘Lets have a go with this milking shall we, Jan? ‘

‘I’m ready I hope I can do it.’

‘It’s easy,’ Keith replied.

Mike found dressing a bit of a chore and couldn’t get into his usual jeans so opted for a set of baggy overalls. After encouraging the kiddiwinks to rise and shine, he set off across the yard on his crutches to join the milking tutorial.

‘That wasn’t so bad; I think I did very well for the first time.’

‘You did great,’ Mike said proudly.

‘It’s hard on the hands though. My hands are so small compared with you men.’

‘You’ll have hands like Keith by the end of the week.’

‘God,I hope not,’ Jan chortled, ‘they would look a bit silly on me.’

‘He wasn’t his usual self was he, not very talkative?’ Mike said thoughtfully.

‘I thought that too,’ Jan’s brow furrowed and she wondered what the problem was. Had he found out about the man that Mike saw, or what else? Surely nothing to do with her and Chris otherwise he would have said something -wouldn’t he?

‘I’m going have clotted cream on my cornflakes this morning to build myself up a bit.’ Mike placed a dish on the table and limped to the fridge for the milk and cream.

‘You don’t need excuses to eat cream.’

‘Well I would like to be a bit heavier - a bit fatter.’ If it was Jan’s wish to be thinner, it was Mikes to be more muscular, like Keith.

‘Huh, that’ll be the day sweetheart,’ Jan said, sardonically, jealous of the fact he never did get fat.

Mike changed the subject, ‘Mr Williams is due back today to start the foundations for the extension. Seeing I can’t do anything else today I’ll get on with filling in those planning forms that came the other day. Then we can send them off as soon as poss. You know what councils are like, it could take ages to get them passed.’

‘Good idea. While you’re doing that I’ll go and see to the animals, and muck out.’

‘I’m sorry love, I wish I could do it myself.’

‘Stop worrying’ Jan scolded as she put on her wellies and coat, ‘I’ve told you before, it’s not your fault and I can do it easily enough.’ And with that she was gone.

His breakfast over and the kids off to school, Mike sat at the kitchen table smoking and chewing the end of his Biro. He had decided to try and draw up the plans himself, after all the design of the new rooms were basic enough, so why pay someone to draw them. Mike intended to do a lot of the work himself especially the inside stuff, but he was also pretty good at laying blocks – and lying under them. The idea was that he would work with Mr Williams as a labourer to keep the costs down, when his leg would allow that is. Mike sighed, he hated paperwork and forms, and he would have preferred to be mucking out the animals.

Jan was finding the simple task difficult. Firstly because she was shorter than Mike, the large wheelbarrow was unwieldy. She was too short to allow her to lift the barrow high enough, so the wheelbarrow legs dragged on the floor. The huge mucking out fork was also too big for her. She solved this by finding a small garden fork and lifting the straw and muck with that.

This job was going to take much longer than she first anticipated, but she persevered. And like Mike, when he was doing what he called, non-thinking jobs, her head too became filled with various mental ramblings. But for once Chris wasn’t foremost in her mind, though of course she was still in there, somewhere, lurking amongst her brain cells. The pantomime wasn’t top priority either, nor the busy social life she had back home, but a rather general view of their situation. Even though the house wasn’t as they would like it, they were both falling in love with the place. Perhaps the ancient walls were exuding some sort of influence over them because despite the problems, sitting by the fire on a winters night, gave them a sense of sanctuary. To leave it and go back to town would be a deep loss. Overall she was still optimistic and happy with their new life, every day was an adventure, and they never knew what was coming next. It could be something really nice, like seeing and hearing the ghostly white barn owls hunting for mice around the yard at night. Or a beautiful cloud formation in the sky. But something shitty like a big fat electric bill, or the relentless mortgage would pull her back to earth. In fact it was essential bills such as these, which sadly, they couldn’t control. They had to have electricity, and a roof over their head, and coal for the Rayburn and it all needed money. Indeed there were very few expenses that they could control. Food was another obvious essential but Jan was a resourceful mother and housewife and could perform miracles with a can of beans and some odds and ends – not forgetting the ubiquitous chicken pies. When Mike got the fruit and vegetable garden going she could do even better. It was the same with the kids’s clothes. To save money she made as many of them that she could. Luckily, the children who had never been particularly demanding, were even less so now they were away from the influence of the town. But Jan still had fond memories of Mike’s regular big monthly pay check, and wondered just how many lettuce and pigs one had to sell to bring it up to that sort of money. This would be a great life if we had enough money she decided. She was disturbed from these somewhat maudlin machinations by a low rumbling noise from the track –Mr Williams and his JCB were approaching. Oh dear, she sighed, more expense.

‘They want me to be Father Christmas? Me?’ Mike was incredulous, ‘there must be someone else who could do it? In any case the local kiddies will expect one that speaks Welsh, won’t they? And one that doesn’t have a leg in plaster.’

‘It’s not Father Christmas, dad, in Welsh it’s Sion Corn.’

‘Well there you go then, see, I didn’t know that either.’

Friday afternoon, and Jan had been to the village shop, then as a treat, picked the children up from school. In fact with the onset of the dark evenings they were being picked up more often, Jan didn’t like the idea of them crossing the old bridge in the dark. But she too had been surprised when the headmaster asked her would Mike be willing to be Santa and give out presents at the kids Christmas party.

‘Well, he said it’s because you’ve got a real beard and look the part. Of course we’ll have to make it white somehow. And your leg won’t be in plaster by then, will it? It’s over six weeks until Christmas.’

‘Blimey he’s got a good memory, I’ve only meet him once.’

‘Once seen never forgotten,’ Jan teased.

‘Ha, ha,’ Mike retorted, ‘of course I’ll have to eat more cream, I’m a bit skinny to be a Father Christmas, or a what was it - Sion Corn?’

‘Don’t be silly, we can pad you up a bit.’

‘Yeah, go on dad,’ David urged.

‘Will you dad, please. You can give me a big present from the sack.’ Mandy smiled angelically at her dad.

Mike laughed, ‘Don’t be so mercenary, Mandy.’

‘What’s a mercer, Mum?’ Mandy asked with wide-eyed puzzlement.

Only three days had passed since Mike broke his leg and he had already returned to working outside. He obviously couldn’t bend his leg, but he was coping fairly well. Jan was concerned that by returning to soon to his labours, he would hurt himself, but on the plus side he wasn’t moping about the house moaning about how much work needed doing. And he had been able to supervise the unloading of the materials for the new tunnels, much to Jan’s relief. She hadn’t really wanted the responsibility of checking the load and telling the men where to put the stuff.

‘Well I don’t know, what do you think, Jan?’

‘I don’t see why not, I suppose it’s nice to be asked, and it would be a bit of a laugh. The thing is, I think the local men are to busy or too shy to do it. And don’t forget they call us ‘English,’ and believe English people are more, you know, outgoing.’

‘But there must be some real English people in the area, Keith for instance.’

‘Of course there are,Mike, but he asked you. You ought to be flattered.’

Mike pondered for a moment then his ego spoke, ‘mm, well, okay then, I’ll have a go.’

‘Cor, great Dad I’m going to tell my friends now.’ David was extremely pleased with his father decision. Having a dad involved with the school establishment would mean he was going to gain considerable kudos from amongst his school pals.

‘It’s time you went home, big boy.’

‘That was bloody fantastic, when can I see you again?’ He grinned salaciously, and began fondling her again. In typical Chris fashion she ignored his plea.

‘That’s enough of that you greedy sod,’ She pushed his hand away, ‘you Welshmen never have enough do you?’ Which, coming from her, was a somewhat incongruous comment. ‘Come on, get up, you’ve got to go, now. Back to your little Welsh wife. I’ve got to collect the kids and take them into Abersoch. They need new shoe’s She stretched languidly, rose from the bed, and began dressing.