Lettuces and Cream (6 page)

Overall his ideas were proving much harder to prepare for than he had planned, and far more costly. It had taken two whole days just getting all the parts to the yard before he could think about putting the thing up. Jan had done what she could and worked hard, but didn’t have the strength for many of the tasks. So she had concentrated on smaller, but necessary jobs, like tidying up in the yard and barn.

Lunchtime, and Mike was back in the kitchen.

‘It’s hard to think, Jan, that we’ve only been here for three weeks and we’ve already done so much.’

‘I know, but it’s so quiet now with the kids back in school. I wonder how they’re doing?’ Jan said rather absent mindedly, putting his lunch on the table in front of him. The children were not at all happy at having to get back to school. For a start, apart from their first day when Jan had driven them down to the village, the two darlings had to walk across a field, over a stream on a rickety footbridge, and through a deserted farmyard leading to the tarmaced narrow lane, known as the Top road. Then a walk downhill to the ‘main’ road to catch the school van, and of course coming home they had to walk up the steep lane. When dry it wouldn’t be so bad but Jan, and to a lesser extent Mike, were very concerned how they would cope in bad weather, and dark evenings. Which as it was September wouldn’t be far away.

‘They’ll be fine, don’t worry so much, Jan,’ then changing the subject, ‘it’s a good thing that I ordered the glasshouse and tunnels before we left home. It’s saved a lot of time. With any luck we should have our first crops by March. They’ve got one up already,’ Mike spluttered.

‘Don’t talk with your mouth full,’ Jan said playfully, adding, rather more thoughtfully, ‘March seems a long way off.’

‘Yes, I know, we need some money before then. I think the pigs might be the answer.

‘Won’t we to have to spend out more though, to get it started.’

‘Yes but I can do the work in the barn myself, build the pens, concrete the floors and that. Trouble is getting the stuff down the track. No own wants to deliver. I think I’ll have to get a van so I can go and get the materials myself.’

‘How much will that that cost?’ Her face crumpled with concern.

‘I don’t know, but we could always get a loan or something. I’ll have a look round and try the local paper and I think there’s a garage in Porth. An old banger will do, nothing fancy. I’ll ask Keith where he got his old van.’

Jan was not entirely convinced it was a good idea, spending more money to get money, but Mike was so energetic can confident and she supposed this is how working for ones self worked.

‘Well, love, you know best what’s needed.’

Mike wasn’t too sure that he did know best. The money was running out fast and there was so much to spend it on. Even petrol for the car was more expensive around here. The cheapest they could find was in Porth, and in the recent ‘new’ money that was thirty-three pence a gallon. He still thought in ‘old’ money, so that was a hefty six shillings and eight pence. And with winter coming on there would be the additional expense of heating the draughty old house. The convenient and relatively cheap gas fires of town already a distant memory- no mains gas here. And of course there would be the cost of Christmas. Mike was hard working and enthusiastic but not very good at planning expenditure. Jan had always dealt with most of the bills and stuff like that, and of course the money used to come every month, rain or shine. How very different this new life was already turning out to be. However, as his dear old grandmother would have remarked, ‘Going forward is much easier than walking backwards.’ Jan and Mike had already committed so much to this enterprise that forward it had to be.

‘I think after lunch I’ll start cultivating the soil in the tunnels that are finished. It’s going to take a while, I’ve got to clear the pasture grass off first before I can use the Rotavator to till the soil. But still, it will be easy in future; a crop or two will break up the soil nicely.’

Jan had no knowledge of horticulture so simply responded with a cheerful, ‘Okay love,’ and busied herself clearing up the kitchen.

‘What are you going to do this afternoon?’ Mike asked

‘If I’ve got time I’ll do some more clearing up in the barn, especially if you’re going to build pig pens.’

‘That’s a good idea, Darl, it will be a good help to me have the place clear.’

‘But tomorrow, it is Friday tomorrow isn’t it? I lose track of the days out here now that we don’t have our old routine. Anyway, in the afternoon I’m going over to see Chris, she gave her kids a message, to give to our kids, to give to me’ They both laughed at the silliness of it all.

‘That sounds really complicated-like the secret service or something.’

‘I know, but it works. Until we get the phone in it’s a good system. Anyway, she asked me over to look at their place when they called here. She thought I’d forgotten, so I sent a message, and she sent back…’

‘Okay, okay, don’t start all that she knows, that I know, that she knows stuff, again,’ Mike said laughingly, ‘I’m off, see how their getting on with the tunnels and I’ve got to get some work done before any more M.I.5 messages come in.’ Mike got up from the table, gave Jan a cheerful peck on the cheek, and off he went.

As Mike strolled back to the tunnel field, as they all now called it, he was reminded of the phrase, ‘’what is this life if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare.” Indeed he had found little time to stop still for long. The cleaning up operations, putting up the glasshouse and a host of other chores had kept them very busy indeed. Time seemed to, well, just disappear out here. Strange stuff, time, it either drags it’s feet or runs like a hare.

Back in the tunnel field the erectors were hard at it.

‘Should be finished by four’ o’ clock Mr Jones.’

‘Great. I’m going to make a start on the first one. Strip the turf off before I start the tilling, if that’s okay with you, I won’t be in your way will I?’

‘No, that’s fine, enjoy yourself.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ Mike laughed.

He worked until the failing light called a halt to his labours and he headed back to the house. The sky was clear and it seemed to Mike that an early frost was on its way, and back in the house the children and Jan were complaining of the cold.

‘Okay folks time to light a fire in the living room, our first real fire at last.’ He had already gathered quite a large heap of old timbers and fallen branches in the cleaning up operations. They had been cut and stacked in the barn to keep dry and they were now ready for that long promised blazing open fire in the large old fireplace.

‘Have we got any paper Jan, old newspapers or something?’

‘I don’ t know, there must be some somewhere. There could be some in the packing boxes. We’ ll have to start buying the local paper every week.’

‘Yeah, we should get it anyway, just to find out what’s going around here.’ Mike said, crossing the room to the remaining unpacked boxes, and rummaging amongst the contents.

‘It’s okay Jan, I’ve found some. Right then, lets see what we can do.’ Mike busied himself putting the paper and sticks in the grate and lighting up. The dry paper and sticks erupted into fingers of flame and he began adding heavier wood and soon the conflagration was clawing its way up the huge chimney.

‘Cor, it’s a big fire, Dad,’ David said a little apprehensively, not used to seeing a fire indoors.

‘It’s great isn’t it, all this heat?’ Mike said with great satisfaction, showing his hands to the fire and rubbing them gleefully.

‘Come and look at this, Jan,’ Mike called out to Jan in the kitchen. She came in still wiping a plate with a tea towel.

‘Lovely, that should warm us up a bit. But what’s that roaring noise.’

‘It’s okay it’s just the fire.’

‘Seems to be getting louder and a bit smelly.’

Suddenly lumps of burning tarry soot began falling into the hearth.

‘Damn, I think the chimney’s on fire,’ Mike looked startled and disappointed that his fire raising had gone so wrong.

‘Oh mum I’m frightened,’ Mandy whimpered, and ran to Jan.

David seemed to be enjoying the spectacle. But never the less moved away from the inferno. The roaring noise was increasing and more stuff was falling into the hearth and spilling out onto the stone flagged floor. Blackie the puss had also decided it would be prudent to forgo the warmth and made a hasty retreat into the kitchen.

‘It’s like a volcano, Dad,’ David said happily, venturing a little closer to inspect the smouldering black nuggets.

‘Whew, it stinks in here,’ Jan said and crossed the room to open a window, letting in the cold night and defeating the whole purpose of the fire in the first place.

‘Mum I don’t like it,’ Mandy began crying and hugging her mothers legs.

‘It’s alright love, Daddy will put it out soon.’

Mike suddenly remembered seeing his grandmother putting handfuls of salt on the fire when her chimney had done the same thing.

‘Salt, that’s what we need, salt. Quick, fetch the salt.’

Jan returned carrying the minuscule salt cellar.

‘No no,’ Mike shouted, ‘lots of salt, never mind I’ll get it.’ He dashed to the kitchen and came back with a whole packet of salt, and standing at a safe distance from the heat began tossing handfuls upon the blaze. Slowly the blaze and the roaring decreased, whether it was the salt or it had just burned itself out Mike didn’t know or care. He just wanted it to stop. Eventually, the roaring calmed, the smoke cleared and Mike began the task of cleaning up and starting all over again.

A couple of hours later, with the evening meal over and the fire tamed and glowing nicely, Mike and Jan were sitting enjoying the warmth, drinking coffee, and Mike smoking a cigarette. David was studying a large black beetle he was keeping in a small box. He had found the critter on his home ward travels across the fields from school and had carried it home in his lunch box, much to the disgust of his sister, who now was at the other end of the room tinkling on the now, out of tune piano-what joy.

‘Ah well,’ Mike said philosophically, ‘I suppose the chimney fire saved us having to get it swept. Huh, it should be clean now after all that mess.’

‘It still smells a bit sooty in here,’ said Jan, sniffing the air.

‘Does a bit, it will go soon.’

‘Dad, what can I feed the beetle with?’

Although Mike was used to bugs of all sorts in his work in the fields, he wasn’t keen on having them indoors, but he didn’t want to stifle the lad’s interest.

‘I don’t really know son; different beetles eat different things. Some of them even live on dung heaps. What we need is a book on insects so we know which sort it is.’

Jan was startled at the idea of David bringing manure into the house, but also didn’t want to upset the lad, so tried an appeal to his humanity.

‘Don’t you think it’s cruel keeping it in a box? Perhaps it would be better if you put it outside.’

‘Aw mum, it’s the biggest I’ve found, I want to keep it.’

‘Well just think about it, there’s a love, you wouldn’t want it to starve to death would you?’

‘No suppose so,’ David replied morosely, and adding, ‘dad, when can I have a dog?’

‘Soon son, promise, we’re a bit busy at the moment. As soon as I’ve got time I’ll ask around.’ In an attempt to cheer the lad up a little, Mike joked, ‘but you won’t be able to keep a dog in a matchbox,’ David didn’t respond.

Mike was now developing a different more intense relationship with the children. His time with them back in town had been constantly fragmented by the shift working he used to do, and sometimes he would hardly see them for a week at a time. Often he had felt like an outsider, but now he saw them more or less at the same times everyday and could follow their interests more closely. This pleased him a lot and he was happy that they were now a ‘real’ family.

Apart from Mandy messing with the piano the room was peaceful. Mike switched the radio on, and Jan took up her knitting. Mike sat listening to the programme and at the same time sorting out paperwork and the bill for the poly tunnels. He liked planning and organising his ‘job list,’ which was growing by the day. He hoped that he could soon make a start on the inside of the house. Particularly during the winter months, and even on days he did work outside, he intended working on the house in the evenings. And luckily there were many jobs, like stripping the woodwork of chipped paint, that wouldn’t cost much - except time. Mike got up and put more wood on the fire. He was enjoying his new duties as stoker and slumped back into his chair, smiling happily as he did so. All things considered they were having a pleasant evening, and even Mandy’s ‘music’ had stopped.

‘This is nice, Darl,’ Mike sighed contentedly and lit up a cigarette.

‘Yeah, ‘tis love, we could do with more evenings like this,’ Jan clacked away at her knitting.

‘Yes very nice indeed,’ Mike mused, getting back to his job list.

‘Daad,’ Mandy drawled, ‘why is there water dripping from the ceiling. It’s going all over the piano.

‘Come on up, Jan, have a look at our bedroom, we’ve just finished doing it out.’ They climbed the traditional wooden stairway, the walls of which were painted in a bilious shade of lilac. The original balustrades and side rails had also recently been cleaned, varnished and renovated back to natural wood.

‘Here we are,’ Chris opened the door with an artistic flourish, ‘what do you think?’

‘Oo, lilac coloured walls in here as well, oh, the bedding and carpet too, and the curtains, very nice Chris,’ Jan lied.

‘I like lilac,’ Chris gave a sigh of satisfaction and pleasure at her choice of colour. I can see that, Jan thought, somewhat overpowered by so much, well, lilac.

‘I’ll be pleased when we can get started on our place, it’s a wreck at the moment,’ Jan commented, frowning a little at the prospect of the expense.

‘Don’t worry; you’ll sort it out eventually. It took us years to get all this done, and we still haven’t finished. These very old houses always need something done to them.’ Chris walked to the large double bed and sat on one corner.