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“I was a bit lost for the first few months. It took time for me to adjust... but I... uhh... I retrained.”
I get the vibe that Sion’s not too comfortable talking about himself.
“Have you spoken to Jac since you got back?”
“He knows where I am if he wants to talk.”
“Funny that. He said the same thing to me.”
“Yeah well, that’s the problem. Neither of us will back down. Like, ever.”
He likes you, Annie. I’ve known Jac for years and I’ve never seen him like this about a woman.”
“Hmph.”
“Talk to him. His moodiness is doin’ my head in.”
“He knows where I am,” I repeat, focusing on my glossing.
No way am I going grovelling to him, if he can’t even be bothered to come and say hello.
“But, can you say thank you from me, for the work he did in the kitchen?”
Sion shakes his head in exasperation.
“I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you tell him yourself?”
???
I’m surprised a couple of days later when Alun, my next-door neighbour, pulls up on the yard in his new Range Rover. I haven’t seen him since my mother’s funeral when he’d said again that he’d be calling.
And now he’s here.
Peeking at him through the window as he marches purposefully towards the front door, it doesn’t look like he’s making a social call.
He pulls a face as he steps into the refurbished farmhouse.
“Someone’s been busy.”
He scans the kitchen approvingly.
“You’re safe. The walls and woodwork have just dried.”
I can see him making the calculations in his head. How much the place is worth. With, then without, the land.
Clearing my throat slightly, I draw his attention back to me.
“I’ve been dying to spruce the place up for years.”
“Getting ready to sell?”
“No. I’m keeping the farm.”
I say it firmly and his eyes meet mine, staring at me hard for just a second as if I’m spoiling his plans.
He looks good. Successful. I take in his expensive country-gent designer clothing, and the new top-of-the-range Range Rover parked in the yard.
But, I can’t shake off the shadows of the past. I shudder. Lizard Man.
“You cold?”
He’s being perfectly charming and polite. I’ve made him tea and we sit in the kitchen at the big pine table, now scrubbed clean with a bowl of fruit on it.
“You’ve not been tempted by the money, then?”
He thrusts into the real meat of the conversation, cutting to the chase.
“You could get a fair bit for a place like this.”
“No. I’m staying.”
Alun’s face twitches.
“But, what about your job in London?”
I don’t want to go into that with him.
“I’ve left. Time for a new start, back here.”
He sips his tea and stares at me intensely.
“And what you gonna do when Jac goes?”
“What?”
Taking in my blank stare, he continues, smugly.
“Sorry, Annie, I thought you knew... He’s asked me to buy his sheep off him. We’ve agreed a price.”
“When?”
I'm summoning everything I have within me to retain my composure, although I’m certain that Alun’s noticed.
“He’ll be gone by June.”
I gulp my tea.
“If you’re interested, I’d like to rent the land after?”
I shrug noncommittally, my mind still reeling.
“Sure.”
Now he’s said what he came to say, Alun rises to leave. He has no time to waste.
“How about we talk it over again after you’ve had time to think it through? Over dinner?”
I nod, numbly.
“I’ll be in touch.”
Alun’s car has barely left the farmyard, when I grab my coat and hastily leave the house, scouring the place in search of Jac.
I scan the yard, then rush through the old stone sheds.
He’s not there and the tractor’s out.
The lambing season will be starting any day now. Then, he’ll be working around the clock. I was going to offer to help him, but after Alun’s bombshell, everything’s up in the air.
And if Alun’s right, things are more than a little broken between us. Unfixable even.
But, I can break this stupid silence.
I need, at least, to have it out with him. And apologise for what I said.
I spot him over in the field we call Windy Corner.
He’s by the tractor, in the middle of the mud, forking the silage bale around the feeder. It’s soggy and boggy as I stomp across the field, my wellies squelching as I soldier on over the sodden ground.
“Jac!” I call out, as I approach him.
He carries on.
Perhaps, he hasn’t heard me. Perhaps, he has. He’s working with purpose. Determined. Head down.
“Jac Jones!” I shout over to him again.
I know that he’s heard me, and I’m furious with him. He can’t ignore me again.
Even his dog is running over to see me.
This time, he does have the courtesy to stop and glance up. Hallelujah!
I pat Jess.
“What d’ya want, Annie?”
His hostile tone dampens my spirits worse than the rain.
“I’m sorry,” I sniff, swallowing a huge lump of pride.
“I’m sorry for what I said. I was wrong.”
He stares at me coldly, and then starts to work the silage again, ignoring me.
I wait there a good while as he carries on. The rain stings my face as I stare at the bleak, bare fields. Only the tough sedge tussocks brave the barren ground.
And I stand there, still. Holding out. Expecting him to stop. Watching him forking the feed furiously. Deliberately and defiantly he ignores me until it’s too uncomfortable any longer for me to stay.
He’s punishing me.
Humiliated, hot-faced and defeated; at last, it’s my turn to break.
Fighting back the tears, and holding my head up high, I squelch my way quickly back towards the farmhouse.
It’s over.
It’s only the memory of that kiss; the electricity that’s so thrilling between us, that makes me even consider a final throw of the dice.
That, and Callista and Sion’s assurances that he more than likes me. Whatever that means. They didn’t hear me shooting my mouth off, accusing him of being a gold-digger.
Argh! I scream into the wind.
I’ve only one option left, and if this doesn’t work, then I need to give it up and let him go.
Getting back to the farmhouse, I find a pad
of paper and an envelope in the kitchen dresser drawer. Sitting down at the table, it’s now my turn to write him a letter.
It takes a while, and plenty of failed attempts, until I’m happy with the words. Sealing the envelope with a kiss of hope, I go about collecting up all the screwed-up balls of paper from off the floor around my chair. The whole thing has taken ages.
Before I can change my mind, I take it down to the cottage, posting it through the letterbox before he gets back. After that, I’ll wait for him to come to me.
And wait, I do. All evening.
I’ve had a shower, done my hair, even put on some make-up. And there I am, like Miss flippin’ Havisham, sitting alone in the kitchen, fidgeting, flitting restlessly to the window, watching furtively for a flashlight on the yard.
I try to settle down with a book, but I can’t concentrate. My ears are still on alert for a knock at the door.
But, there’s nothing.
And the call that I’ve waited for all evening never comes.
Eventually, giving up, I retreat miserably to bed.
My heart aches and I feel empty and rejected for a second time.
???
Sion came in as Jac was taking sausages out of the oven. It had become an odd domestic arrangement, with Jac cooking dinner for Sion most evenings. Sion repaid him now and again with groceries and meals in the Cross Keys, but Jac was happy to cook. He liked doing it and had to make food for himself anyway, he told Sion.
Sion grabbed two beers from the fridge and prised off the tops.
“Busy day at the office, dear?”
Sion passed Jac a bottle.
“You see Annie?”
“No. Why?”
“You two are driving me nuts. She’s sulking up there, and you’re moping down here. If you don’t do something soon, she’ll be gone, mate.”
Jac said nothing as he mashed boiled potatoes and swede together vigorously in the pan with some butter.
Since the deal he’d done with Alun, he’d assiduously avoided seeing her. And he’d been surprised when she turned up by the feeder. She never backed down.
And she’d apologised.
He’d made her pay for what she said to him, all right. He’d been a bastard to her. There were no other words for how he’d behaved.
Jees! She’d looked so beautiful too, with her golden hair blowing wildly around her wind-stung cheeks. And those brilliant green eyes of hers, sparkling angrily as he carried on with his work, punishing her.
