Lettuces and Cream Read online

  ‘Too true – and do you know Mike, you should make your own fags, its a hell of a lot cheaper than those bought things. I’ll show you if you like.’

  ‘Yeah, okay, I’ll have a go later.’

  Mike, and Arthur were leaning on the pen door watching the piglets, and reminiscing like two old men. Well, Arthur was of course, Mike wasn’t, but enjoyed talking about such times and his childhood. And funnily enough, despite their adventures back in town, neither Jan or Mike could be called, modern. Because as young as they were, they appreciated so many of the older, more traditional ideas and values. For instance, they liked living in older style houses, and preferred real furniture, not pretty puffed up stuff. And they didn’t despise the Royal family, as did so many of their friends. It was the same with the recent ‘new’ money business. Mike in particular, had, since childhood, been enthralled with having real silver sixpences and sixty-year-old Victorian pennies in his pocket. And although the new money was more logical and easy to calculate, the modern coins were so boring. So all in all, they were an unusual couple.

  Arthur looked heavenward, letting out a stream of cigarette smoke as he did so. ‘Big building, Mike, must be all of eighty feet long’

  ‘Yeah, there abouts, Arth.’

  ‘Do you know if you put in an upper floor you’d have a tidy sized house here?’

  ‘Yeah, but I think rebuilding one house is enough for now.’

  ‘Pity about the roof though. When is it getting repaired?’

  ‘He’s supposed to be coming next week, mind you, he’s so busy I doubt it. And he’s going to give us some idea how much the house will cost to sort out.’

  ‘That’s going to be a big job. Going to cost a bit too. If I lived closer I would give you a hand with it.’

  ‘Yeah, thanks, Arth I know that, but we’ll get it done somehow.’ ‘Right, I can’t stand here all day, better get some weeding done in the tunnels I suppose. It’s starting to rain anyway, can’t do much outside.’

  ‘Shall I give you a hand, Mike?’ Mike looked a little startled at the idea. It wasn’t because he thought him too old for the work. Arthur was a slim, fit, blue eyed sixty-six year old, and only just becoming a little bald and grey. He had a gentle nature and Mike had never heard him indulging in any cursing of consequence, or talking ill of others. And like Mike he wasn’t a macho man, nor had any interest in sport, except for the doing the pools every week without fail. Mike got on really well with him and liked him a lot. Arthur too admired Mike for stepping out of his easy life in town and starting such a new venture and life style, and wished he too, could have had a more adventurous working life.

  Arthur read Mikes concerned expression, ‘It’s okay, I do know the difference between a weed and a lettuce, as long as I’ve got my specs on,’ Arthur laughed,’ and I brought my working clothes.’

  ‘That would be great Arth, there’s lots to do and it’s such a bloody boring job it would be good to have some company.’ They both threw their fag ends in the pen drainage gully where they briefly sizzled in the pig urine.

  Indoors, in the far from perfect circumstances, Jan was coping with her mother, Gwen, the children, and a puppy. Her mother, white haired, bespectacled and of the same stature as Jan, was helping to prepare lunch and finding the disorganised kitchen difficult.

  ‘How do you manage in this place Janice,’ she always called her by her full name.

  ‘Oh I’m used to it now. You should have been here before I had the Rayburn, and hot water.’

  ‘And no neighbours to talk to, and no proper shops,’ her mother added disdainfully.

  ‘We’ve got neighbours they’re just not close by. We like it that way, no one to fall out with is there?’ Jan said defensively.

  ‘Well I think you’re very brave, going through all this upheaval in such an old house. And no bathroom, no proper toilet and no phone, and how do you keep the place clean? And this kitchen - well, it’s like, like a shed, and that old sink, standing on bricks –well, its disgusting.’ Jan’s mum was a cleaning fanatic. In her own home she would be forever dusting and puffing up cushions. Which was probably why Jan only did enough cleaning to be hygienic. She had never been one for too much housework, there were far more interesting things to do.

  ‘This is the country, mum, and this place is getting more like a farm every day, so it’s bound to be a bit mucky at times.’

  Her mother said nothing, but wrinkled her nose, which to Jan read, ‘scruffy girl.’

  Meanwhile, Mike and his willing worker had reached the first tunnel.

  ‘Blimey how many lettuce are there in here, and how do you get them to grow at this time of year.’

  Mike tapped his finger on the side of his nose and winked conspiratorially, secretly pleased of what he had already learned.

  ‘Ah, well, you see it’s a trade secret Arthur; they’re a special Dutch winter variety. And there are about three thousand in each poly-tunnel.’

  ‘You raised them from seed, then you planted them all by hand?’ Arthur said incredulously.

  ‘Yep, but the planting doesn’t take as long take as long as you might think. I planted these two tunnels in a day but I reckon when I get used to it, I’ll be doing three in a day. And even if I had a planting machine, I couldn’t get it in here anyway.’

  ‘Amazing, I’ve never seen so many lettuce.’

  ‘I’ll be ordering more poly-tunnels soon.’

  ‘More?’

  ‘Yeah, well we need to sell a lot of lettuce, and I need one tunnel for the tomatoes.’

  ‘You’re going to be a very busy boy,’ Arthur quipped, ‘right, lets get weeding.’ The conversation dried a little as each of the them became engrossed in their work. -and time ticked away.

  It was a similar scene with Jan and her Mum; Jan had given her the job of vacuuming the sitting room leaving Jan with her thoughts, and the potatoes to peel for the evening meal. And what thoughts they were. Simply thinking about what had happened with Chris gave her face and upper chest a flushed, ruddy glow of excitement. She recalled how they had lain together naked on the lilac bed cover, fondling and sucking each other’s breasts and nipples. And how, with thrilling fascination, her eyes had examined Chris’s intimate nakedness as her fingers had touched and probed. Chris too had reciprocated in the same way and with equal fascination. Chris had been the boldest of the pair and had used her mouth to good effect by licking, nibbling and gently tugging at Jans’ sensitive, secret, pouting vermilion lips. It was something Jan had never experienced before, neither with man or woman, and it had eventually brought her to a stunning, screeching peak. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to treat Chris to the same sort of excitement, but instead used her nimble fingers to pleasure her with an equally noisy degree of satisfaction.

  As Jan plopped another peeled potato into the water, she pondered would such a time ever occur again. Did she want it to? Again, yes and no. It was all so alien to her, to her upbringing, to her life now, and her own ideas of queer sex. And using the mouth as Chris had done was not at all normal in men or women and in fact disgusting. But now, she had the dirty idea that she might like to do the same to Chris.

  In the very early days with Mike she had been as excited as she felt now, but dissatisfaction had soon brought about a waning of interest. Would this happen in this case too? Perhaps she should, sooner rather than later, retreat again to her own sexual world were she wouldn’t have to bother with actual people and their sexual needs. Unlike Mike she wasn’t innately that interested in sexual variations, or experiments. Maybe the truth is that ones sexuality is ones own, and sharing it with others a problem to many people. But the excitement with Chris had been so different and, well, so easy. Hardly a word had passed between them during their passion, and afterwards as Jan got dressed Chris had lain languidly on the bed, her hand touching herself between her legs in an absent minded manner, more from the remembered pleasure rather than achieving another climax. And saying how fantastic it had been and tha
t she had always wanted to try it with a woman. And in her usual candid manner she also asked Jan did she ever spend time bringing herself off. To which of course Jan had given an adamant, no. How typical, still reticent, even after such an experience. God, I am a lesey. No I can’t be, I don’t love her as I do Mike and I know so little about the woman. Perhaps that’s what made it all so thrilling. There were none of the old ideas of male and female love and sex involved, like that stuff in the marriage manuals about mutual and simultaneous satisfaction, which she had never experienced with Mike. Nor in fact with other men during those unconventional times back in town. She sighed a huge doubled barrelled sigh, she wasn’t used to such substantial thoughts –such intense machinations. Wasn’t that why they had come out here –to get away from such things? Another naked peeled potato slid into the saucepan.

  ‘I’ve done the vacuuming downstairs. What about the bedrooms Janice, do they need doing?’

  ‘No mum, it’s down here that gets all the dirt from the yard.’

  Jan’s mum gave another sniff of disapproval.

  Mike groaned and grimaced as he straightened up his back.

  ‘Yeah, it’s a pity the ground is such a long way away,’ Arthur joked, as he too straightened up.

  Mike looked at his watch, ‘Blimey, Arth, it’s gone half past twelve, lets go in and have something to eat, I’m starving.’

  ‘Okay, I won’t say no to that. I’m a bit peckish myself, must be this mountain air.

  ‘Lets hope it’s not chicken pies again.’ Mike joked.

  ‘Chicken pies?’

  ‘Oh I haven’t told you have I, about the chicken killing? And Jan making loads of pies in the good old Rayburn. We’ve got a freezer full of the damn things. It’s a bit of a saga, come on, I’ll tell you on the way back to the house.’

  In the far end of the sitting room the last few unopened boxes of household goods, had been stacked to one side so that the dining table could be used for their guests. For the first time since they had moved in, lunch had been laid out in a very tidy manner indeed. Of course the children were already at the table and being restrained from chewing the tablecloth by their Nana Gwen. The puppy, now named by the children as Spot, because of the black spot on her white nose, was also adding to the minor mutiny by running around the table legs yapping with excitement. Blackie the puss wasn’t amused and ran upstairs seeking sanctuary.

  ‘We’re hungry Nana, why do we have to wait?’

  ‘Because it’s not polite to start before everyone is at the table.’

  ‘Huh, it’s not fair,’ David moaned.

  ‘And that dog shouldn’t be in here messing about,’ Nana glowered in the animals direction.

  ‘Here we are folks, the workers have returned, ‘Mike and Arthur entered the room and sat down and Mike smiled happily at his erring children.

  ‘There, I told you they wouldn’t be long,’ Nana looked towards the kids with an expression of mild disapproval at their behaviour. She was probably right. The children had been allowed to run a bit wild, and they hadn’t been at a proper meal table for months. And added to that, the crudity of the ancient house was rather a difficult place to teach children good manners, but hopefully that would change.

  With the pup shut away in the kitchen, the meal was a peaceful leisurely event, and a chance to catch up with what relatives and friends had been up to.

  ‘We saw that friend of yours in town the other day,’ Gwen said, ‘oh, what’s-his -name,do you remember, Arthur? You know, his poor wife killed herself.’

  Arthur struggled to remember. ‘Oh, yes, Roy – is it?’

  At the mention of his name Jan and Mike stiffened and straightened in their chairs. The recollection affected Mike more than Jan, she simply didn’t like Roy. Nor did she want to be reminded of the ‘old’ days. Days in which she was so full of doubts and black thoughts about their lives together. But Mike’s stomach gave a kick at the mention of Roy’s wife, Barbara. And even though it had been almost three years since his involvement with her it still had an effect on him. Although, perhaps his reaction wasn’t just because of Barbara but to all his memories of the erotic adventure business – and to the sexual opportunities that were still out there in the big world. But memories can be so unpredictable, and sometimes dangerous and unwanted, impinging as they were on this very pleasant day.

  ‘You didn’t tell him where we are did you?’

  ‘Well only roughly – not your address,’ Arthur replied.

  Mike gave a huge sigh of relief. That was one person from the past they didn’t want to see. Neither Arthur nor Gwen questioned why Mike was so agitated. Why should they? They knew nothing of Jan and Mikes ‘other’ life, and Arthur simply rolled up a ciggy, and changed the subject.

  ‘I thought we could go out for a drink and something to eat tomorrow – in a pub somewhere - I’d pay – a treat.’

  Mike laughed, ‘Sounds great Arth, but this is a dry county, the pubs are shut on Sundays. Not like you sinners in South Wales.’

  ‘Well good God I didn’t know that,’ Arthur said disbelievingly, ‘I thought everywhere was open now. This is nineteen seventy one after all and they’ve been open back home in Barey for years.’

  ‘Ah well, the chapel people out here would go crackers if the pubs opened on a Sunday. Mind you, I think there’s a referendum soon, so perhaps things will change. It’s a bit silly when you think about it. Because if you drive eight miles into Llanbed and over the bridge into the next county, the pubs are open,’ Mike continued.

  ‘And my friend Ann says that they go to the Ruby club on some Sundays. Because it’s a club they can serve drinks, course, you have to be members.’ Jan added.

  ‘Well, it doesn’t bother us – we’re not pub people anyway.’ Mike concluded.

  ‘No, nor us. Pity though,’ Arthur puffed on his fag, ‘Perhaps when we come up next time they’ll be open.’

  ‘Could be,’ Mike smiled, ‘we’ll all have to order double helpings then.’ They all gave a little laugh of agreement.

  ‘What do you think Arth, shall we do a couple more hours?’

  ‘Oh, can’t wait, I love weeding,’ Arthur replied with a smile.

  ‘I know how you feel, mate.’

  ‘I tell you what, a couple more hours and then we’ll have a little drink before dinner,’ Arthur decided.

  ‘Um, we haven’t got any thing in; I could go and get something in the village.’ Mike was a bit embarrassed he hadn’t thought of getting a bottle of wine or something for his guests. Not that they could really afford such luxuries.

  ‘No need my boy. I’ve brought a bottle of Vodka. I know Janice likes a tipple of that.’

  ‘That’ll be lovely dad. Not too much before I cook though,’ Jan laughed happily,’God knows what will happen in that kitchen if I do.’

  Even though they were no longer children, Mike and Jan found that having parents around was reassuring and somehow, comforting. It was as though they were being reminded of the security and warmth of the family nest they had enjoyed before stepping out into the world as adults. And even though they were short of money and had had lots of problems to deal with over the last few months, they knew that there were willing shoulders to cry on, metaphorically speaking. But they had no intention of showing weakness or sharing their problems, and as yet, they had no intention of reneging on their dream and returning to town with their tails between their legs.

  ‘Come on then, boss,’ Arthur said, getting up from the table, ‘lets go and give these weeds hell. The sooner we finish, the sooner we get a drink.’

  ‘Okay, I’m with you Arthur.’

  That evening by a blazing fire in the sitting room, the children were notching up their sugar intake with a vengeance. Jan usually rationed their sweet quota, but today she had thought what the hell, its a special occasion. Mike was showing the, before and after, slides of the place.

  ‘This is the area that’s going to be the veg garden for the house before it was cleared
and dug. The Davis’s never had any garden here at all. And this is the yard and so-called toilet before we cleaned it up.’

  ‘What a mess, damn big bonfire though, Mike,’ Arthur commented.

  ‘Yeah, it burnt for days.’

  ‘And this the hallway and landing before we stripped the woodwork and varnished.’

  ‘God, you’ve worked hard, the pair of you. How long have you been here now?’

  ‘Just on two months dad,’ Jan said proudly.

  ‘Good God, you’ve done marvels.’

  ‘I should say,’ Nana Gwen agreed.

  ‘Well that’s the lot for now,’ Mike said, switching off the projector.

  ‘Good idea, taking photos, in a couple of years no one would believe what you’ve done,’ Arthur said rolling up a smoke.

  ‘It’s a bit of a pain remembering to do it, but, yeah, it’ll be worth it in the future.’

  ‘Any way, come on drink up, Mike, and you Jan.’

  ‘Crikey, dad, we’ll all be drunk at this rate.’

  ‘It’s not like your father, drinking,’ Gwen was rather disapproving of her husbands behaviour, and gave one of her sniffs.

  ‘Well, we haven’t seen them for ages, and, I think it’s time you had a go at rolling your own fags, Mike.’

  ‘If you say so Arth, I’ll give it a go.’

  Nana Gwen, who had been rather quiet and thoughtful, suddenly and rather shamefacedly announced, ‘do you know, I’m not sure now, but I think I did give that Roy man your address.’

  THIRTEEN

  ‘Chris, come out here now,’ Keith was angry, his face set in a scowl.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Just get out here will you”

  Chris emerged from the back door, struggling into her jacket as she did so, and followed Keith who was storming across the yard towards the cattle shed. She followed him inside where he gestured towards the mess. Water was flowing full bore from the tap used to provide water for the stock, and drenching stored bales of hay.