Abby Ch. 14

The next day dawned with high cloud, through which the Sun would break frequently, it was warm, and Mary considered that it would stay this way all day. Abby had considered going over to the West Somerset Railway again, but Sam's words last night had given her a lot to think about, and after breakfast her footsteps, as if with a mind of their own, took her to the station. The peace and solace that she would normally find here escaped her today. Perhaps she was wrong to think that she could put down roots in this place, she was growing fond of these people, but had managed to upset both James and Sam, two men who had shown her a different side of the male of the species. Sam, who she had started to view as a surrogate father; and James, who treated her with respect and genuine friendship, without the predatory approach that she had become used to, and for whom her feelings were starting to extend a little past simple friendship. Was the diversity of urban and rural attitudes too much for her to surmount. She sat on what was left of the coping to the platform, and contemplated the situation miserably. How long she sat there she didn't know, until her misery was disturbed by the sound of horse's hooves.

She knew who this would be before she looked up to see James sitting upon Cassie regarding her solemnly. "We don't appear to be in our usual good humour this morning. Is this because we are contemplating the horrendous task of restoring these buildings?"

"No James, in fact I may not attempt that at all."

"Oh, has anything happened?"

"I don't know. I don't know if I will fit in here. Did I upset you when I questioned your support of hunting?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Well I might have upset Sam. I spoke to him last night, as you suggested, and he seemed to get angry."

"If I know Sam, he wouldn't be upset with you. You asked. I think what Sam gets upset about is those who don't ask, but just condemn from a position of ignorance."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, but if you need to be re-assured, why don't we go and ask Sam?"

"Could I? The only trouble is that I would have to walk back to the Inn to get my car."

"No trouble, I am sure that Cassie wouldn't mind taking us both to the Inn. That is if you don't mind riding pillion behind me." Abby looked concerned about the prospect.

"Would that be alright?"

James didn't reply, he nudged Cassie over to where Abby sat on the platform. "Just put your leg over her rump behind me, and put your arms around my waist, you will be fine." Abby did as she was told, and once settled; James got Cassie walking at a gentle pace along the track. For the first hundred yards or so Abby was a little worried, but as she got used to the walk, relaxed, and suddenly found the proximity to James rather comforting, so much so that the usual humour that she enjoyed in James' company was restored. "If Mavis could see us now, she would be elated."

James shoulders quivered as he chuckled. "She may not see us, but she will know all about it soon. Mary will see us and that's just as good as putting it out on the B.B.C. news." Their arrival back at the Combe Inn was too soon for Abby, Cassie's rump was not the most comfortable seat in the world, but hugging James had more than compensated for the discomfort. Great credit had to be given to Mary, when she came out and noticed them, not a muscle moved to display her feelings, and she took it in her stride when James asked if she would mind Cassie being tethered for a while.

"No problem at all, you will be going off somewhere then?" she asked incuriously, which was not how she felt.

Abby explained that they were going to see Sam. "I don't know about James, but I would love a cup of coffee before we go." Mary's face split into her beaming smile, which it did whenever she was asked to provide food or drink for Abby.

"Of course, Love, would you like a cup Mr. James?" James nodded his agreement, and made sure that Cassie was fine.

He tethered her so that she had a little slack to get to the longer, lush grass that grew by the fence. Abby watched as he did so. When he was sure that Cassie was ok he came to join Abby. "As that rattletrap of yours isn't here, you have no choice but to go in my car." Abby told James as they sat down at one of the benches. She noted the glimmer of laughter in his eyes and prepared herself.

"Well you know I profoundly disagree with these luxuries of life, and it goes against all my principles, however as you say there is no choice. I have one request to make though."

"Yes." Abby said resignedly.

"Can I drive, please, pretty please, can I drive?"

Abby was laughing now, her misery of earlier completely forgotten. "Yes of course, but remember one thing, you bend it, you mend it." Mary was pleased. She had heard some of the exchange from where she was making coffee in her kitchen. Instinctively she had known that Abby was miserable this morning, but could not fathom the reason. Hearing her laugh was enough to convince her that whatever the problem, it was resolved. It also cemented her view that James was good for Abby, and that the reverse was also true.

James turned out to be a good driver, treating Abby's BMW with consideration, unlike his treatment of his Land Rover. Abby had bought the car when it was twelve months old, choosing an automatic as better suited to London motoring, with the 2.5 litre engine. She had never sat in the passenger seat before. This was a new experience for her, which she found she quite liked. Their arrival at Gallow Farm went unnoticed, which meant as James remarked that Mavis was not around. They toured the various barns and out-houses searching for either Roger or Sam, and found Sam in a stall, tending to a solitary cow. He greeted them cheerfully.

"Morning James, morning Abby, how are you today?" He then astonished Abby by apologising for his anger last night. "Hope I didn't upset you, but I sometimes get infuriated, when I talk about this government."

James nodded sagely. "I know how you feel, Sam. Some of the things they get up to are just plain daft. But what's happening here?" He asked indicating the Cow.

"I'm just keeping Jess apart from the herd for a while; she seems to have a bit of fever."

"Nothing that needs reporting?' asked James with a serious expression.

"No, nothing serious, I expect she's ate something, given her a tender belly, but I'm just being careful for the moment, I'll have to milk her though, otherwise she will be in pain." With that he grabbed a plastic bucket, and a little stool, and squatted down by the cow's withers.

"You give names to all your Cows?" Abby asked in astonishment.

"Well, they don't mind what you call them, but anything is better than their registration number.' He indicated the yellow ticket attached to the cow's ear. "It's the tone of your voice that they recognise."

Abby watched fascinated as first he washed off the cows Udders, and then used a cream rubbed all over the teats, anointing his hands as well, then with the bucket held between his knees, he began to milk, squeezing gently at the teats to send jets of milk into the bucket. Suddenly she thought of her mum, who had according to Sam, mastered this technique, until Thomas Tregonney had forbad her. If her mum could do this, why couldn't she? So, in a tremulous voice asked.

"Sam, would you show me how to milk?" He looked up at her with a mixed expression on his face, thinking for a while, possibly of the day so long ago that he had taught Marion to milk.

"Let me make her more comfortable." He said. "With this amount of milk in her udders she will be feeling a little sore." He continued to milk until the ringing sound as the milk hit the bucket had softened, the milk now filling half of the bucket.

"OK. Abby, take some of that cream, and get your fingers lubricated." Abby did as she was told, finding that James was looking at her with that famous grin on his face.

"What's the grin for?" she asked.

"Well if I seem to recall all the stories about milkmaids, they all seemed to be a little on the buxom side. You will have to eat a lot more of Mary's food, before you qualify." Sam's voice came, muffled as his head was still buried down by Jess's withers.

"I reckon you have been reading fiction, not all milkmaids were built that way. Look at Mavis, she was a stick way back, and she's still a stick now. Right Abby, have you got your hands well covered?" Abby held up her hands to show. "Right." Sam got up from his stool, and held out his hand, with the fingers pointing down. "Now squeeze my fingers in a downward pull." Abby did as he asked the cream making her fingers slip downwards. "A little firmer." She increased the pressure. "That will do fine, now that's the motion you want to use, letting your fingers slip down her teats, expressing the milk. You reckon that you could do that?" Abby agreed that she could do that."Now get down as you saw me, and try and hold the bucket between your knees. This proved more difficult as the bucket was now quite heavy, but eventually she mastered the technique. The smell of the cow was warm and creamy tinged with manure, not at all unpleasant and not as she had imagined. "Take two teats, and just do what you did with my fingers. Alternating between your hands." Abby grasped the teats, and suddenly milk shot out of the one, missing the bucket completely, splashing instead over her shoes. The cow looked round, aware that different hands were now milking her.

Abby soon found the rhythm, and her aim. "Well! Look at that James, I'm milking a cow."

"Conversion from city slicker to country bumpkin, in one easy lesson." James replied cheekily.

"Change to the other two teats." Sam suggested. "Do that about every half-dozen pulls." Abby worked on, becoming warm in the process, it was harder work than she had thought, and the heat emanating from the cow, added perspiration to her brow. Abby thought that her efforts were slackening the streams of milk becoming thinner and less powerful. Sam knelt down by her side. "I think you can stop now, she's pretty well milked out." Abby stretched back with relief, as Sam took the bucket from her.

She stood up and grinned at James. "Well did you think I could do that?"

"I had no doubts at all. But do bear in mind that years ago before machine milking, you would have a herd of fifty to sixty to do, and twice a day at that."

That stunned Abby into silence, as she multiplied the effort she had put in by fifty.

"Surely one woman wouldn't have to do all that?"

Sam answered her query. "No, Abby he's just pulling your leg. At milking time, everybody would be in the parlour, and not every cow was as productive as Jess here, some you could milk out in two minutes." He wiped his hands on a clean cloth, and then offered it to Abby. "Do you fancy a cup of tea?" Abby was pleased to accept, mainly because she could make use of the bathroom in the cottage, she was amazed that milking a cow could bring on so much perspiration. On the way to the cottage, Sam stopped at the pig's sty, and poured a little of the milk into each of the food bins.

"Why did you do that?" Asked Abby incredulously.

"Oh a couple of reasons. First, if there is anything wrong with Jess, it would be foolish to sell on the milk until we know what it is, and..."

"Second," added James, "the creamery will only accept machine milk. They don't think it's hygienic otherwise." Abby was stunned.

"But that's stupid."

"Yes it is, isn't it?" Replied Sam.

As they sat drinking tea, Sam turned to Abby. "Not that it isn't nice to see you, but I am sure that you had another reason apart from milking a cow, for coming up here today."

"Well we have sort of covered that. I was going to apologise for upsetting you last night."

Sam shook his head. "No girl, I wasn't upset with you, in fact I was pleased that you were making the effort to find out, rather than just assuming. You go on asking questions, if I get in lather, it's not you that does it, it's those silly idiots in Whitehall."

Abby was relieved that the situation had been cleared up. "Now I'm going to put you on the spot, Sam. Did I do as well as mum?"

Sam beamed at her. "Well if I recall right, your mum spilt more milk the first time than she got in the bucket, so I suppose the answers yes. But Marion came down quite a lot, and got on well, until your grandfather put a stop to it. But if we were still hand milking today, I would call on you for help, that's for sure." James, of course, could not let this go without a sally.

"You see, come down here with all your airs and graces, and we'll soon have dirt under your fingernails." James had that characteristic look on his face of teasing humour, and Abby could not let that go without returning the serve.

"I thought we had had this conversation before, then you called me a posh Lady, and as I said at the time, I'm the granddaughter of the station master; there is no reason for airs and graces." James laughed as he went off to use the bathroom, and Abby took the chance to ask Sam what kind of dancing there would be at the ball.

"Oh all kinds, Abby. Mostly proper dancing, but I do believe that there is one of those guys who use a record player, for the young ones to dance to, but that's only for a short while. Why do you ask?"

"Well if what you mean by proper dancing is ballroom dancing, then I can't!" Sam was stunned.

"You can't dance. Surely you could waltz?"

Abby shook her head. "No."

Sam thought for a bit. "What about if you come up here for a couple or three evenings, and Mavis and me, we'll teach you to dance. Mavis was very light on her feet when she was young, she'll get you twirling in no time."

"Oh Sam that would be great, but not a word to James, please."

"Don't you worry, no one will say a word."

Sam noted when they left, that Abby got into the passenger seat without hesitation. 'The girl's made her mind up,' he thought to himself, 'she probably doesn't know herself, but her emotions do.' Loathe as he was to keep secrets from Mavis, he wouldn't share this with her, 'if I know Mavis she'll make a song and dance out of it, and probably embarrass all and sundry. Good hearted, but that woman just don't know when to stop.'

James drove back to the Combe Inn just as carefully as before. This amused Abby. "Not driving at our usual frenetic pace, I notice?"

He grinned. "Well you did say that if I bent it, I would have to mend it. The local dealer's price would be well beyond my pocket and I am sure you wouldn't want the usual repair practiced in these parts, a hammer and the welding torch."

"It's a good job that I am fully insured then."

Abby thought for a moment. "When are we going to finish the ride along the track? I'm impatient to see the rest."

"You feel up to it then?"

"Yes."

"OK, whenever you like."

"Tomorrow? No, not tomorrow, I'm going shopping. The day after, is that alright with you?"

"No problem, Tuesday it is. May I ask, what is your shopping trip supposed to accomplish?"

"Well I shall be buying one or two girly things, but you won't want to know about them. However, the main purpose is to buy a dress for this ball. You didn't suppose that I would be turning up in any old thing, now did you?" James went quiet for a moment.

"I must confess, that I didn't really give it thought. So where are you going? Can I offer any assistance?" Abby laughed.

"I can just see you hanging around while I try on dresses. No thanks, James; I am going with Toni, from the Library." James looked bemused for a while then his face cleared.

"Oh Antonia, the daughter of Councillor Wates."

"I assume that it is one and the same, I only know her as Toni. I believe we are going to Taunton first, and if that's not successful, then Exeter."

"Well have a good day, here we are." James turned into the Combe Inn, where Cassie had become the centre of attention of one or two patrons.

Their arrival, with James driving Abby's car, received no comment. He declined Mary's offer of further refreshment, and got up into the saddle.

"See you Tuesday," he called to Abby, and wheeled Cassie away, heading off towards the church, and Lyney House.

Abby's nose detected the wonderful aroma of cooking, which reminded her that she didn't eat a great deal at breakfast and was hungry. "That smells delicious, Mary, what are you making?"

"That, Abby is a rib of beef, which I shall be serving with Yorkshire pudding, roast taties, and all the veggies. Then there's Apple Pie and Custard to follow, do you want some?"

"Definitely, have I got time to wash my hands first?"

"No problem, I shall have it on the table in about ten minutes."

Abby had grown used to the food here; in her opinion of superior quality and taste to any she had before. This meal however, spoiled her for anything that would come after. Sitting at her table, feeling completely spoilt and full, she could only reply to Mary's enquiry with one word, 'superb.' Mary's face beamed with satisfaction. Although there were others in the lounge, enjoying equally the repast, it was only Abby's opinion that mattered to Mary, a mark of how she, Mavis and Sam had 'adopted' Abby as their special person. She was concerned though; when Abby declared that there was no way she would be able to eat anything else that day. From the first day that Abby had arrived at the Inn, Mary had felt it incumbent on her to round Abby out, considering that it was unhealthy to be so slim. Abby for her part had battled hard to resist the blandishments to eat more, despite the wonderful meals that Mary would put in front of her, so far she had won the skirmish.

It was almost without thought that Abby got in her car and drove once more to the station. It seemed strange that just a few hours ago she was here, possibly seeing it for that last time, and now once again contemplating the future in this place. The serenity that seemed to envelope her in this place was stronger than ever now, and she could almost imagine her grandfather's presence. Would he recognise her? Yes she thought, he probably would, after all Sam knew who she was immediately, why not her own grandfather? What would she say to him? 'Hello granddad, I'm your granddaughter, Abby.' How could she explain to him, all that had happened, and how she came to be here? Then a thought came to comfort her, if his spirit still existed, then he was already aware of everything, she had no need to say anything. He would know.

There had been a warm summer breeze teasing her whilst she had been standing on the platform; it flirted about, blowing first from one direction and then another. Abby had taken little notice of it until something brought it to her attention. Maybe it was her imagination, but she was sure that it carried a subtle scent of camphor, bringing to mind the words of Sam, 'you always knew when Thomas Tregonney was around, by the smell of mothballs.' She took a deep breath. Yes it was there, camphor. The feeling was exhilarating, a feeling of being wrapped in a warm towel and cuddled, with the warmth and peace of a family to share. Granddad knew. He was there. Impulsively and with a happy smile on her face but tears in her eyes she called out. "Granddad, I'm home."

To be continued