The Smallholder Pt. 01

The thoughts went round and round and suddenly she was aware of Joseph extinguishing the candle and standing. She tried to untangle her legs and found they would not move.

Joseph turned and laughed at her. She pouted, and undid her legs by hand. He held out his hand and helped her up. She staggered, and he held her against him until she regained feeling in her feet and could stand. She loved it and he enjoyed the feeling of her firm young body against him.

"You need practice," he laughed, disentangling, "It gets easier."

They made their way to the kitchen.

"I'll need to bed the livestock down," he said, "and milk the goats. It will be cold tonight."

"Joseph," she said, "Can I help?"

"Do you cook? Will you get our evening meal ready?" he asked. "I'll get everything out for you."

The smell of the cooking joint was sweet and rich. He put out the vegetables and apples and she set to work while he went out into the cold darkening night.

----

SIX

After the meal, as they sat on each side of the stove in the living room, Angela was almost loth to break the peace. Each had a glass of red wine from dinner, for Joseph had brought the bottle in from the kitchen. Bob lay between them snoring in the heat of the fire.

She could not help it, though. She had to break into the silence and ask.

"Joseph," she said quite tentatively, "what happens when you meditate?"

"What happened with you?" he asked in return.

"Lots of ideas," she said, "They just kept coming."

"And?"

"Well, I didn't know what to do about them."

"So?"

"I thought about them and realised that for most of my life I've been a really selfish bitch."

Silence. Joseph was looking at her kindly. Waiting.

"As a child I had to have the latest games, and later, in teenage I wanted the latest craze and fashion. I'd shout and stamp and slam doors until I got what I wanted. Dad would slip me the money without my mother knowing. I took it as a right, I don't think I even thanked him.

"Then I remembered how I used boys and they used me. I dated rich boys and demanded the best from them, and they demanded blow-jobs and sex. I hated the blow-jobs, and most of them were no good in bed - or the back of their cars.

"Then there was the memory of when I got pregnant. It was inevitable really - so much activity, even if I made the boys use condoms, they're not foolproof."

She stopped ashamed and uncertain as to how he would react.

"And?" he asked. His eyes were gentle and she felt more confident.

"I had an abortion. He - or she - would be ten now. I still feel guilty at taking that life away."

He nodded, but his gentle expression never changed. She continued.

"I went with Gerard because he had money. He was charming at first, but he turned out very jealous. No, that's not quite true, he is still very loving and caring, but he has a jealous streak and a temper. He is also very autocratic; he orders me about. I think when he left me before you found me (ok, when Bob found me)," she smiled when she saw his attempt to correct her. He would never take credit for saving her, she thought. "It was temper. We had a row; I can't even remember what about."

"So," he prompted, "What came out of your hour?"

"I'm not a very nice person to know," she said, and stopped.

Did she expect him to deny it? To say, 'No, You're a very nice person'? It didn't happen.

"That's a start," he said.

"What d'you mean?" She was disappointed at his acceptance of her statement.

He did not answer the question, but seemed to go off at a tangent.

"When I began meditating," he said, "I spent hour after hour resenting my wife and Trevor. Not just resenting: hating. I became more and more aware of my hatred and resentment, and eventually I noticed self-pity. I had not expected that. I learned, very slowly, that all these feelings were in me not them, and that I had to find a way to escape from the prison my feelings had put me in. What they had done would never change; it had happened. It was further and further in the past. I was prolonging the agony in myself. You understand?"

"And you did," she said, "change I mean."

"Very slowly, yes, I learned to let it go; to forgive. The old feelings would rise in me from time to time, but yes, eventually it was put to bed. I was free. Only then did my meditation change.

"Now is not the time to tell you about that," he said gently. "Perhaps one day when you've done a little more meditating, you'll know what I'm talking about. I don't think you would now."

"So, what about me?"

"You're just starting out. You have issues and meditation will bring them out. It will not always be comfortable. After a meditation session you have to confront what you experienced, judge it and try to act on it."

"I don't want to be a selfish bitch any more."

"Then don't be. You haven't been selfish - or bitchy - while you've been here." He smiled and she knew he was gently mocking her.

"You bring out the best in me," she said.

He smiled again, and picked up the book he had been reading. Angela went to the study and found one of P D James's crime novels and brought it back to the living room. They spent the rest of the evening reading.

Joseph only broke the peace by letting Bob out of the front door, and closing it after the dog had returned.

"It is very cold tonight," he said. "Do you want a hot water bottle?"

"Please," she said.

He went to kitchen and prepared the bottle, taking it to the bedroom and knocking on the partially open door. She came to the door wearing a pair of silk pyjamas, and took the bottle from him, placing it on the dresser. Then she hugged him and lifted her face to kiss him. He was surprised, but bent to her and their lips met in a gentle embrace.

"Thank you for a wonderful day," she whispered.

"I glad you enjoyed it," he said smiling shyly at her. Tomorrow the weather may not be so pleasant. Clouds are arriving: it looks like snow."

She bent and picked up the hot water bottle, allowing her pyjama top to gape and her breasts to be partially on show. He wondered if she did it on purpose, but he was grateful for the gift of the show. He felt a definite stirring at the hug and display. He was grateful for that too.

She smiled at him and he thought he detected a mischievous glint in her eye. He smiled back, turned and went to the study and his comfortable chair.

Monday

For the first time in a long time, Joseph's meditation next morning was plagued with distractions and they all centred on Angela. He had not given their hug and her display the previous night any thought and had fallen asleep immediately in his chair.

Now he was plagued by visions of her neat firm breasts hanging proud beneath her pyjama top as she bent. Then there was her rear, her perfectly formed behind, followed by a memory of her legs and thighs when he was treating her sprained ankle. He witnessed these images and let them go their way, but they kept coming back!

There were her comments about herself and her relationships, she hinting that she liked him more and more and was enjoying being with him. She seemed to be idolising him. He was not comfortable with that, but again he watched the ideas go by and let them go.

Finally came questions. They seemed to come from his wife as he looked at her photo and that of their little daughter.

'Are you attracted to her?' He considered it. Yes.

'Do you want her?' Yes.

'What are you going to do about it?'

This caused a good deal of heart-searching, and his meditation was over early. He decided to leave the question unanswered for the time being and get on with seeing to the livestock. At least they didn't ruin his meditation! He knew that the idea of a ruined meditation was a joke; he was sure that everything that came to a meditation was important and had a message for him.

There was a stiff freezing breeze in the air, blowing from the north east. The clouds were slate grey as they processed across the sky, and there was a wisp of dampness in the air.

Bob arrived in the room as usual as soon as the candle was extinguished, and he let the dog out before making porridge, leaving it to cook gently in the oven, and setting the kettle to boil for tea when he returned.

He had only just finished boxing up the eggs when Barry arrived for the goats' milk and the surplus eggs. Joseph made tea and they sat together as was their wont at the kitchen table.

" 'appen there'll be snow ere too long," said Barry, breaking the silence. "Wind's set to veer due east. It'll blow reet up yer valley. Tha' knows what that means."

"OK for me," said Joseph. "I can last a month or more. It won't be the first time, and certainly not the last!"

"Reckon I'll need the tractor to get here t'morrer," said the farmer.

"Aye," agreed Joseph, "It'll be quiet enough if we're snowed in."

"They say power lines could come down, but you're sat well, with yer technology."

Barry said the word as if he were talking of magic, in spite of having the latest machinery on his farm, but he was grinning as he said it.

Joseph laughed.

Barry finished his tea and drove off as Angela arrived in the kitchen, still in her silk pyjamas. It brushed against her body showing her shape, especially her breasts and bottom and the curve of her waist. It was captivating for Joseph, who smiled broadly.

"You just missed Barry," he said. "You would have cheered him up wearing that!"

She looked disconcerted for a moment, after all he had never made a flirting remark before. She realised she liked it: he was a real man after all!

"I missed morning meditation," she lamented.

"You can do it any time," he said. "Just go in the living room and shut the door. But first, have some porridge with a spot of honey, and some tea. The weather is closing in so I need to sort out the animals and batten down the hatches. I'll be out most of the morning and you'll be left in peace."

Once the simple warming meal was over, Angela told him she would wash up and he gratefully went out into the cloudy windy morning. She watched him striding strongly out, and as he did so the first snow flakes sped horizontally past the kitchen window.

By the time she finished washing up she could not see across the yard, the snow was falling so thick and heavy. It blew horizontally and then eddied as the wind dropped for a moment before blowing across again. She had thought she knew what a blizzard was like before, but this was a whiteout. She felt all the warmer in the kitchen for that, but felt for Joseph having to be out in it.

Eventually she decided to go and try meditating, and went to the living room as she was, in her pyjamas. The stove was low but the room was still warm and comfortable. She put some more logs on and closed the door. Bob was snoozing by the fire and raised his head as she did the chore, his tail idly beating the floor, before he sank back into torpor.

She sat in a half-lotus position this time, remembering her stiffness the previous time, and breathed deeply, allowing her thoughts to slip away. She was becoming still and this time she sank into a serene peacefulness she had never felt before. She remembered to let her thoughts go by and then be still again, and the hour passed quickly.

Her watch alarm, which she had set for one hour, sounded, and she reluctantly stood and felt serene and at peace.

Then came a disturbance. It was the sound of a very loud vehicle arriving at the cottage. Then someone began hammering on the door.

"Someone caught in the storm," she thought, looking through the window at the whiteout beyond, as she made her way to the door. She opened it and immediately someone wearing a fashionable overcoat and silk scarf pushed past her and shut the door against the cold. She then realised she was still in her pyjamas.

He was taller then she was, and as he turned she found herself face to face with Gerard. He was not happy, in fact he was red faced with anger, or was it the cold? She shrank back.

"I knew it! What the fuck are you doing here?" he shouted in her face. She cowered, but they were interrupted by a barking dog who snarled at Gerard, baring its teeth. It stopped Gerard in his tracks.

"It's ok, Bob," she said. "Go! Lie down," and she pointed back into the living room. The dog slunk reluctantly away.

"Well?" said Gerard more quietly, casting a glance at the living room door. "What are you doing here, as if I didn't know?" he sneered, looking pointedly at her pyjamas.

"I'm taking a few days' holiday," Angela told him. "Joseph and his dog saved my life and I wanted some time to myself. So I came back."

"Saved your life!" he scoffed. "Still keeping that lie up! You came back to fuck him. You've been fucking him haven't you? Admit it! Look at you. Just come from his bed I'll bet."

Angela thought of Joseph's early morning routine and found Gerard's accusation ridiculous; she laughed derisively and immediately became stubborn.

"I'm not admitting anything to you," she said.

"You came here for a fuck with a big burly farmer, eh? Slumming it with a country yokel, you really are a skank, aren't you? What's he got? A great big prick? Lazy sod; some of us have to get up and work."

His description of her would have angered her if his assessment of Joseph had not been so ludicrous. She smiled at the thought of Joseph being lazy.

"You really wouldn't understand, Gerard," Angela retorted witheringly, "You're not in his class as a man, and I suspect he knows more about hard work than you ever did."

"So it is his prick!" Gerard said triumphantly. "Anyway, you've had your fun, time to go home and when we get back I'll soon make sure you forget him. You know what I mean. So go get your things."

There was something about his tone that didn't ring right, and she noticed. He should be insanely jealous, foaming at the mouth. Was he turned on by his misconception of her relationship with Joseph? Was he a cuckold at heart? She dismissed the thought.

She realised with fresh clarity he would most likely dump her once he got her home. She wondered if her things were already in bin bags in the garage. Perhaps there would be another woman in the flat - naked in his bed - to upset her. He probably thought she would be heartbroken to lose him, and now she knew it would not bother her.

"No!" she said, folding her arms, which had the effect of pushing her breasts up and together, so that her nipples pressed against the fabric.

"What d'you mean, 'no'? You belong with me, Angie. Go get your stuff. Do as I say."

"I'm not leaving here, I have another two days holiday coming to me." She had a week but she was not going to let him know that.

"You fucking will. Get your stuff or I'll make you!" He grabbed her arm.

"Take your hands off me!" Her tone was sharp and full of dislike.

What happened next was a devastating surprise for all three people.

Joseph had heard the car arrive. Even in the blizzard the noise was deafening. He finished adding to the bedding for the pigs, and made his way back through the driving snow to the house.

As he entered the kitchen he could hear the voices raised. Angela was arguing with a man who was taunting her coarsely with his sexual talk. Joseph went to the door to listen in case she needed help. He heard her defending him and felt a warmth for her, but on hearing her tell the man to let her go, he rounded the door and walked rapidly to the hallway.

He stopped short when he saw the man, who turned towards him.

"Trevor?" Joseph uttered the word with incomprehension as he faced the man who had taken his wife and daughter from him.

"Joe?" came a similarly surprised exclamation. "What the fuck?"

"Trevor?" Angela queried, now totally confused. "This is Gerard."

"So," Trevor/Gerard grumbled, "You had to get your revenge, didn't you! I took your wife, so you had to take my girlfriend. Find her a good fuck then, Joe? So this is your place. A bit primitive for a city type, don't you think? A comedown from a company director? Living the life of a recluse, pitiful!"

Joseph said nothing, standing passively.

"Joseph," Angela said suspiciously, "Is this? You know, the one-"

"Yeah, Angie baby," Trevor gloated, "I took his wife. Sexy little piece she was too. I would have settled down with her as well. You see Angie, Joseph here was a little too immersed in his business and she needed attention. Joe here, poor bugger, hadn't a chance!"

"You selfish, egotistical, calculating, nasty slime of a man!" Angela said viciously. "I got Joseph to tell me all about you - only I didn't know it was you. How can you stand there and boast after what you did to him and his family? I never want to see or hear from you again - and you just wait till I tell our friends about what you did.

"I'm not surprised you changed your name and moved. You have no shame and no conscience. All you ever think about is yourself, your bloody bank balance and your pathetic lifestyle. Just get out, Gerard, or Trevor, or whatever you're calling yourself!"

Wow! thought Joseph, Must remember never to get on her bad side, but he said nothing, remaining where he was passively.

"Don't be a stupid bitch, Angie," Gerard sneered. "You always knew I look after number one. I do what I want and I tell you what to do. It turned Susan on and it turns you on. You need to be dominated; most women do. He'll never do it, he's a wimp. Susan said he turned her stomach, always consulting her, always running round after her trying to make her feel good. And you're the same, so cut the crap, get your stuff and let's go."

"No!" she said, her face like flint. "If I'd known what you did, I wouldn't even have stayed in the same room as you. You don't get it do you? As far as I'm concerned you are an adulterer, a murderer, and a bully. Why don't you go away and stop polluting this man's house with your stupid arrogance."

A look of surprise and worry crossed Trevor's, or Gerard's, face. Then he smiled his smug smile.

"Ok, Angie baby, but I'm moving on, so don't come crawling to me when you tire of this nobody. I'm going."

Joseph now surprised even himself. He looked for anger, for resentment, for humiliation at what Trevor had said, and he found none. He felt calm and almost detached. He could see the man's driving need to be someone, to exercise power, to dominate in order to give himself status and value.

He wondered idly why the man was so insecure. It occurred to him, as it had to Angela, that if Angela had gone back with Trevor, he would probably have dumped her once back home, since he clearly thought that she had been unfaithful to him, and his pride would never allow that.

He shook himself. Whatever he was, the man was in danger. The blizzard had raged for two hours, and even now the snow would be drifting deeply as the wind strengthened further. Parts of the track to the road would shortly be impossible for a car like Trevor's, if not already; it would be no match for these conditions.

"Trevor," he said quietly, "I strongly advise you not to try to drive that car in these conditions. It's unlikely you'll reach the road, and even the road will have been drifting badly. The ploughs will not get to us until later, perhaps even tomorrow. You had best stay here."

"Oh no!" crowed Trevor. "You don't get me with that one. Another trick, like your lie about Angie's ankle. I know you lured her here to get revenge on me. Now you want me to stay and listen to you fucking her - rub my nose in it. Well I'm no cuckold, no way! I'm going."

"It is unlikely you will get very far. If you have trouble, Trevor, come back here, the village is two miles away, too far on foot in this, dressed as you are."

His calmness seemed to antagonise Trevor.