Page 14 of The House at Hope Corner
Flora looked between the faces of the two men. ‘Why? Isn’t that a good idea?’ she asked, watching Ned’s reaction carefully. His face was open, but there was a definite flicker of something behind his eyes.
‘No, it’s a lovely idea, but it’s bloody freezing out there, Flora. And dark, and it doesn’t get much better the whole time we’re milking.’
‘You manage it though…’
‘Because I’m used to it, but—’ He stopped when he saw the expression on her face.
Flora stuck her tongue in her cheek. ‘It’s okay, I’m not going to give you a hard time.’ She grinned. ‘I know when I’m not wanted.’ She hefted the teapot and began to pour tea into three mugs. ‘And you’re probably right. Whilst they look lovely in the fields, I reckon the cows would be terrifying up close. I’d probably run a mile if one looked at me a bit fierce.’
‘Aye well, they can give you a right good thumping, lass, make no mistake.’ Fraser sank his teeth into a slice of toast. ‘Need a bit of respecting, do cows.’ His expression was hard to fathom and Flora wasn’t at all sure how he viewed her offer of help.
Ned picked up his mug and swallowed a mouthful of tea. ‘It isn’t that you’re not wanted, Flora, not at all, but the farm isn’t a place you can just turn up to and pitch in, not if you don’t know what you’re doing. It can be a dangerous place and we’re… well, we’re a bit under pressure at the moment.’
And there it was again, the slight flicker… Of what exactly? Flora couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
‘Maybe when it gets a bit quieter…’
‘You’re optimistic, lad, aren’t you?’ muttered Fraser. ‘When is that likely to happen?’ He rubbed at his arm and took a swig of tea to wash down his toast. ‘Right then, you ready?’
Ned nodded and shoved a crust in his mouth as he rose from the table. ‘Sorry, Flora,’ he said. ‘I’ll catch you later.’ He bent to give her a kiss.
She smiled. ‘Ned, it’s fine, honestly. Go on, off you go. I’ll see you in a bit.’
And then she was on her own in the quiet kitchen surveying the remains of the hasty breakfast. It was, as Ned had said, pitch black outside, and a glance at the clock confirmed it had just gone five in the morning. What on earth was she going to do now?
She sat nursing her own cup of tea for quite some time, eating a piece of toast although she had no real hunger for it. It was far too early for food and, besides, so much was eaten later on when the men came back for their ‘proper’ breakfast that eating anything now was just silly.
What Ned had said made perfect sense and she hadn’t even considered that the business end of the farm wasn’t a safe place for her to be in until she knew what she was doing. The trouble was, of course, that she would never get to know unless someone showed her the ropes and that wasn’t looking likely to happen any time soon. Cooking and keeping house was all very well, but she wanted to do more. She wanted to be by Ned’s side physically as well as emotionally, working with him day by day, sharing the load, but that was something else she would have to learn, it seemed. She had thought that their life together would include an equal division of labour, but every time the subject came up, the dividing line came down to gender and it was a line she was clearly going to find difficult to cross.
Draining the last of her tea, she carried the mugs and plates over to the sink, leaving them there to wash later, and then she wandered back upstairs and into their bedroom. It was even too early to feed the hens, but so far she hadn’t had the opportunity to properly unpack her art materials and, after her conversation with Grace yesterday, she was itching to use them again. When she’d been at the shop all day she always had her sketchbook and pencils with her at the very least and, once home, she would pick them up whenever inspiration or the inclination struck. She could often be found with a sandwich in one hand and a paintbrush in the other, but unless she found a way to make it work, that was never going to happen here. Still, with nothing else around the house that needed attending to straight away, now could be the perfect time. Ned certainly didn’t have a problem with her print-making, and well, maybe everyone else would just have to get used to it. Apart from anything else, it might be the only way she could get any money together while she was here.
Carrying the first of her boxes downstairs, she set it down onto the dining room table before returning to fetch the second. She’d been mulling over an idea she’d had for a composition lino cut using the beautiful hellebores she’d seen in the garden on her first morning at the farm. Coupled with some forsythia stems, the contrast of flowers could work well, but she needed to play with some designs first. She placed her phone on the table and sat down.
The dining room seemed rarely used and it was freezing. By eight o’clock she could scarcely feel her fingers they were so cold, but she did, however, have three designs which she was happy with.
‘You’re not daft, are you, boy?’ she said, wandering through into the kitchen to put the kettle on and looking at Brodie, who was in his usual position by the Aga. ‘Budge over though, eh, I need to warm up too.’
She rested her bum against one of the doors, holding her hands a little distance from the hot metal. She would need to go and feed the hens in a few minutes and then make the bread for lunch, but she had also decided to go and investigate the woodpile. Hannah wouldn’t be back until later that afternoon – a rare morning at the local WI apparently. Flora wasn’t sure what she had planned for them for the rest of the day, but if she could, she wanted to continue with her art and for that she needed warmth of some sort. Sitting hunched up with cold was making her shoulders ache.
An hour and a half later she had the fireplace in the dining room ablaze, the warmth of the flame totally transforming the room, disguising the heaviness of the wooden furniture and dark soft furnishings and revealing their hidden colours. Flora looked around her. It was a peaceful room, she decided. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she picked up her lino cutter.
She wasn’t even aware of the sound at first, or rather she wasn’t aware of its significance; it was several minutes before she tuned in and realised that what she could hear was Ned and Fraser talking in the kitchen. Moments later, Ned’s bulk filled the doorway beside her.
‘Flora?’ Ned’s eyes fell on the table where she worked, now covered in tiny strips of spent lino cut away from the block she was using. She’d made quite a mess…
‘I’ll clear it up, don’t worry,’ she said. ‘It’s what you might call work in progress.’
He nodded and drew in a breath. ‘It was more… well, I was wondering about breakfast… Fraser, you know, well he likes…’
Flora’s head shot up in shock as she suddenly realised the time. Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Bugger! Ned, I’m so sorry, I got completely lost in what I was doing.’ She began to get to her feet. ‘I’m coming now, just give me ten minutes and I’ll have something sorted.’
She was level with him now, but instead of the answering smile she expected to see, his face was anxious. He glanced at his watch. ‘We’re running a bit late,’ he said.
The smile dropped from her face as she followed him down the hallway into the kitchen where Fraser was already sitting at the table.
‘What would you like?’ she asked him. ‘I’ll get the kettle going for starters and then, how about I make some more toast? Or there’s plenty of cereal, at least I think there is…’
She busied herself at the tap, only turning back around when she realised that Fraser had not answered her.
