Write me a Love Story Ch 6

Write me a Love Story Ch 6

By Janet Baldey

Red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning. The words ran through my head as I pedalled furiously down the hill, cool air buffeting my face. The old bike rattled as I swerved from side to side avoiding the worst of the potholes but I didn’t slow down, I just prayed its brakes still worked. It was a long time since I had ridden a bicycle but even so, I swooped down the hill as if it had wings, all the time wondering about that red sky. It was an ancient weather warning but was it also an omen?  Colic was serious and I was worried; we’d had Barley for years and I couldn’t imagine life without her.For once luck seemed to be on my side. As soon as I reached the veterinary surgery I saw Doug Spencer about to climb into his old Austin. Skidding to a halt and almost falling off the bike, I rushed towards him and started gabbling. One hand resting on top of his car, Doug affectionately known as ‘Uncle,’ looked at me from over the top of his spectacles. The mere fact of his presence was calming and when at last I stuttered to a halt and my hands stopped beating the air, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he walked round and opened the passenger door, clearing a space by the simple expedient of slinging assorted clutter onto the back seat.

‘Get in,’ he said. ‘I’ll put your bike in the boot.’

As the small car chuffed into my yard, Georg was still walking Barley round and round. His face was grey with fatigue and Barley’s rump shuddered intermittently as the pain gripped.

As he strode towards the sweating animal, Uncle Spencer was already opening his bag. Drawing out his stethoscope he plugged it into his ears, placing it against the horse’s belly and listening intently. Without saying a word, he rummaged in his bag again and drew out a syringe with a needle so long it made my eyes water.

‘She's got a blocked gut. I’ll give her something for the pain then we’ll try a laxative. I’ll need some help with that. Are you up to it?’

He was looking at Georg who nodded, while I just stood there feeling useless.

‘Right, let’s get her into the stable. Meanwhile, lass, you can brew us some tea.’

When they eventually emerged there was no sign of Barley.

‘She’s much easier now. I’ve given her an enema and that might do the trick.  But she really needs someone to keep an eye on her for the next twenty four hours.’

He raised his eyebrows and looked at Georg.

‘I vould happily stay but…….’

‘ Don’t worry. As soon as I get back to the surgery, I’ll ring the camp and fix it with whoever’s in charge  I’ll leave you some more pain medicine just in case.’

He clapped Georg on the shoulder.

‘Good man.’

As I walked him back to the car he looked at me.

‘Useful chap that. I’ll call back in the morning to see how she is.’

‘What do you think caused it, Uncle?’

He shrugged. ‘It could be one of several things. Sometimes it’s simply a case of too much dry food. It tends to collect in the folds of the gut and cause an obstruction.’

I stood at the gate watching as his car disappeared down the hill; even after it had gone I didn’t move. I felt racked with guilt. How many times over the past few months had I fed Barley chaff, too tired to make up her usual mash? The horizon began to shimmer and I clenched my fists driving my nails into my palms. First, it had been the chickens and now I’d almost killed my pony. Right then and there I made a solemn vow:  never again would I be so vain as to believe I could cope on my own.   I’d rather give up farming altogether than to cause suffering to any more innocent animals.

Numb with shame, I turned and went back to the cottage to collect some blankets for Georg. Luckily the weather was mild and he’d be comfortable enough on a bed of straw.  Giving the state of my conscience, it was likely he’d get more sleep than I would.

The next morning I was up before dawn. As I walked towards the stable with a mug of tea for Georg my heart was thumping and I’ll always remember the rush of relief I felt when I saw Barley’s long face looking at me mournfully from over the stable door. Then Georg appeared, wiping his hands on an old towel.  

‘The medicine certainly worked.’ He grinned. ‘I’ve much clearing up to do.’   He patted the mare’s neck affectionately.

‘She will need to rest today but tomorrow I think she will be back to normal.’

Georg was right. The next day we were back in our old routine but with a difference. It took me a long time to realise what had changed but then I did.  It was something within me. I felt different inside as if a hard knot of tension had started to dissolve. Hesitantly at first, I began talking to Georg. At first, our conversation was stilted and wholly related to farming matters but gradually I began to feel more relaxed and talking to him became easier. What’s more, it gradually dawned on me that he had an instinct for farming which I didn’t have. Almost imperceptibly, there was a shift in our relationship. It was no longer the case of me being the boss and he just the hired help. I started to trust his judgement and in little ways began to defer to him. Slowly, we started to become a team.

***

With someone else to share the load, I had time to pick up jobs that I used to do before Frank left. Rarely did I feel more contented than when I was in the dairy churning milk while listening to the radio, usually tuned into the Forces network. I’d always thought there was a sort of alchemy in transforming cow’s milk into cream, cheese and golden slabs of butter that reflected the oblongs of sunlight slipping through the windows. Magic apart, in purely practical terms I had the satisfaction of knowing that, at long last, my market stall would compare well with those of the other women.

I also found time for myself. Instead of making do with my usual all over wash, for the first time in weeks I had enough energy to fire up the range to heat water for my old tin bath. I rooted around and managed to find a jar of bath salts, a present from a few Christmases ago, and as I lowered myself into the warm water, scented with Evening in Paris, I gave a sigh of sheer bliss.

As my body relaxed, my brain fired up and my plan popped back into my head.  As I lay working things out, for the first time in ages it began to occur to me that life might be worth living again.

Copyright Janet Baldey