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Authors: Katie Flynn

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BOOK: A Sixpenny Christmas
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Christ tutted. ‘All these years Mum has worried that you and Nonny might have been swapped in the cradle, like in an old-fashioned drama,’ he explained. ‘She was afraid we might be brother and sister!’

Lana stared. ‘But how could anyone think that?’ she asked. ‘Apart from the colour of your hair and eyes, you and Nonny are exactly alike. Surely Auntie Molly couldn’t fail to see it?’

Chris considered this, then shrugged. ‘It’s a mystery to me, but I do believe that was what she thought,’ he said. ‘And now that your mother has burst the bubble and owned up we can get married with everyone’s
approval. Oh, Lana, I’d want to marry you even if you couldn’t milk a sheep or shear a cow.’

Laughing, the two of them began to wield the shovels once more.

The day after the family conference, there was a good deal of planning to be managed. The idea was that Nonny would work with Rhodri at Cae Hic and Lana and Chris would manage Cefn Farm. Chris pointed out, rather tartly, that since Lana was going to marry him no one would be surprised when she moved into the farmhouse. Nonny and Rhodri, however, were a very different proposition, since Nonny told everyone who asked that she did not intend to marry anyone. Chris, shrugging, said that in that case she would have to stay in her old bedroom whilst he and Lana would sleep in the extension.

‘And you’ll just have to cycle up to Cae Hic each day,’ Chris told his sister. ‘I think you’re mad, but I suppose it’s your business.’

‘Yes it is,’ Nonny said huffily. ‘And anyway, when the weather’s bad I’ll ride Wanderer, because a bicycle would be a nuisance not a help. And now let’s forget it; we’ve made our plan, and I’m sure it will work.’

But once Lana got Chris to herself, she brought up the subject once more. ‘I know it’s got something to do with what my horrible father did or said to her on the night of the chick trail, but there’s nothing we can do about it until she realises for herself that she’s being daft.’

She and Chris were in the big barn, checking the ewes, and now Chris raised his brows. ‘But the chick trail was years ago,’ he objected. ‘Surely she can’t be afraid that horrible old man survived the fall into the gorge? Why,
even if he were still alive, which is next to impossible, and meant her harm, he would have acted by now.’

Lana nodded. ‘You’re right, of course, but fear isn’t logical. Sometimes I think she’ll never get over it, which is a sad shame, but sometimes I think something will happen which will bring her to her senses. However, it’s no use nagging her. We’ll just have to wait.’

Rhodri and Nonny were in the big barn seeing to a couple of lambs whose mothers had refused to suckle them. It was one of Nonny’s favourite jobs to feed the new lambs from a baby’s bottle, and now she sat on one bale of hay whilst Rhodri sat on another, both with a lamb between their knees tugging away enthusiastically at the red rubber teat attached to its bottle, and both smiling contentedly as the little creatures sucked, eyes half closed in ecstasy, tails wagging feverishly to show their enjoyment of the meal. It was warm in the barn and Rhodri was relishing this rare chance to be alone with Nonny. Though he said very little, he sat slightly sideways so that he could watch her profile, delighting in the way that her small, straight nose wrinkled when a lamb tugged extra hard at a teat, and her mouth curved into the enchanting smile he had grown to love. Not that loving her got him anywhere. He was a quiet man, not given to flowery speeches, but sometimes he was sure that Nonny loved him back. Knowing little of women, however, he could not imagine why, if she loved him as he loved her, she would not agree to become his wife.

Ellen, entering upon this idyllic scene with two mugs of tea, smiled indulgently. ‘Any of ’em twins?’ she enquired, handing one mug to Nonny and the other to
Rhodri. ‘I remember Rhys used to say hill sheep had their work cut out to feed themselves and one lamb, let alone two. Then he’d take the weaker of the lambs and bring it up in the farmhouse until it were strong enough to make its own way in life. Will these lambs come into the kitchen?’

Nonny shook her head. ‘No, because they’re none of them twins. These are the ewes’ first lambs and the mothers just aren’t sure how they should be treated. We try to persuade each ewe to accept her lamb, and of course if she won’t we have to take over, but we’re quite hopeful, aren’t we, Rhodri, that the mothers of these two will let them suckle. That’s why there’s only a small amount of milk in the bottles. As you can see, the ewes are already beginning to take an interest in what their lambs are doing.’

Ellen settled herself comfortably on a bale of hay and took over Nonny’s lamb so that the younger woman could drink her tea. ‘Me and Bob Taplow have decided that he’ll take some holiday, being as how your mum and dad will be off to Australia by the end of the month. He’s took time off next week, so you needn’t think you’ll see the last of us tomorrow.’

Nonny and Rhodri stared. ‘But won’t his firm mind?’ Nonny asked at last. ‘I should have thought they’d veto the suggestion at once.’

‘Apparently they’re quite pleased, because they’re training someone else to take his place and doing it gradually like this will help everyone,’ Ellen said.

Nonny drained her mug of tea and stood it down on the hay bale next to her, then stared very hard at the older woman. ‘Auntie Ellen, why don’t you and Mr
Taplow marry? He’s so nice, and such a help that I’m astonished you could refuse him. Wouldn’t you like to be married? I know your life with Sam was hell, but Mr Taplow is completely different. He’d put your happiness above his own, and he’s not a drinker . . .’

Ellen interrupted, her eyes rounding with surprise and indignation. ‘Marry Mr Taplow? And how might I do that, pray? I’m not a widow, you know; I’m still married to that pig. It isn’t as though I could divorce him, or say he was dead, because I can’t do either. Yes, he disappeared that awful night, but the fact that he’s never reappeared in this part of the country doesn’t mean to say he’s not alive and kicking somewhere else, wicked old bugger that he is.’

Rhodri opened his mouth to point out that he was sure the man was dead, could not possibly have survived that fall, or the subsequent terrible cold which had kept the mountains unscalable for many weeks, but before he could say anything Nonny leaned forward eagerly and spoke directly to Ellen. ‘Oh, Auntie Ellen!’ she exclaimed. ‘I know just how you feel, because I feel the same. He – he said terrible things to me; he said he’d find me wherever I hid and whatever name I might go by. I knew he was mad, and bad too, I knew I should take no notice, but I can’t forget. If I knew he was dead . . . but in my heart he’s alive and just waiting, as he waited in the cart shed that dreadful night.’

Ellen put the lamb she was holding down and heaved a sigh. ‘I’ve allus thought it was something that evil bastard said to you what put you off the fellers,’ she said. She turned to Rhodri, who had moved away from them and was trying to persuade his ewe to let her lamb suckle, but he turned his head on hearing his name.

‘Sorry, Ellen; didn’t hear you. What was that you said?’

Ellen opened her mouth to reply but Nonny shushed her. ‘Leave it, Auntie Ellen,’ she hissed. ‘It’s best not talked about, else the nightmares will start again.’ She looked around, and gave an exclamation of delight. ‘Oh, look, my lamb’s starting to suckle, and so is yours, Rhodri! We’d best go back to the kitchen for our own meal and leave these mums and their babies to get on with it.’

Later, as they finished their meal, Rhodri glanced rather diffidently round the circle of faces, then cleared his throat and spoke. ‘If Mr Taplow is really going to stay on for a few days, then I think I’d better seize this opportunity to take a little holiday. My da’s relatives are all old, or dead, but my mam had a niece – good pals we were as kids – who I’d like to catch up with, explain what’s happened to her Aunt Mair.’ He turned to Chris. ‘You can manage without me for a few days, maybe a week? I’ll be back before the next gathering, that’s for sure.’ He was watching Nonny as he spoke and saw a frown gather, but she made no comment when Chris said it would be fine with him, but what about Nonny?

‘You’ll be the person most affected,’ he said, turning to her. ‘Can you cope without Rhodri for a few days?’

‘Of course – a couple of weeks if necessary,’ Nonny said coldly, but her eyes were anxious. She turned to Rhodri. ‘Who is this niece, anyway? And why haven’t you mentioned her before?’

Rhodri looked uncomfortable. ‘Never saw no need,’ he mumbled, staring fixedly at his feet. Then he looked up and smiled at her. ‘Older than you she is, see? But a grand girl nevertheless. You’d like her; her family rear sheep.’

Nonny raised her eyes to heaven. ‘Of course, if she rears sheep I’d be bound to like her,’ she muttered. ‘I suppose you think I’m nosy, but I’m not. I’m simply interested, that’s all.’

‘Good,’ Rhodri said decidedly. ‘Well, I reckon I’ll be back within the week, or mebbe ten days.’

When Chris and Rhodri met later that day the grin they exchanged spoke of knowledge shared. ‘She’ll miss you something dreadful, you know,’ Chris informed his friend, and no name was necessary for they both knew who he meant. ‘You’ll take Eggy as well as your old Spot?’

Rhodri considered, then shook his head. ‘No; if I were really going off to see my cousin then I’d not need one dog, let alone two. But I’ll take Spot, for company like.’

Chris nodded. ‘And you’ll take care? And if you have no joy and decide it’s useless, you’ll never have to tell anyone your real reason for going.’

‘That’s right,’ Rhodri said laconically, but in his heart he knew he had several reasons other than the obvious one for his ‘little holiday’. He thought it might help his cause for Nonny to manage without him, realise that she relied on him, not just for the work of the farm but for other, more personal things. And he had noticed that the mention of a cousin had not pleased her, had worried her, in fact. So he set off hopefully, telling himself that he could do no harm by chancing his luck for once. Too traditional I am, he thought, too hidebound. Let’s see where a bit of originality gets me.

Chapter Seventeen

AS IT WAS
a Friday, Nonny and Lana were taking the pony cart down to the railway station to meet Auntie Ellen and Mr Taplow. Lana was actually driving the pony cart and looking forward to boasting to her mother, Nonny knew, about her ability to manage Cherry and still do all the housework she and Nonny had managed to get through that day.

Neither Chris nor Rhodri was with them; Rhodri had not yet returned from his ‘little holiday’ and Chris was driving the jeep all the way to Liverpool to bring his parents home for the weekend too, since their departure date for Australia was now only a matter of weeks away. Rhys had had to go back to the hospital to have physiotherapy and electric treatment on his damaged legs, but he and Molly liked to spend what time they could at the farm. Naturally, Chris had offered to bring Auntie Ellen and Mr Taplow back with them, but they had insisted on travelling by train so that Rhys might be as comfortable as possible on the journey. And though Rhys and Molly were looking forward to the new life that was opening before them, they still had natural regrets about leaving the old, so it was with mixed feelings, Nonny knew, that they examined what the youngsters were doing in their absence. Improvements and modernisation were all very well, but Rhys and
Molly clung to the old ways. If they had had their way they would still have been making butter in the dairy with the old wooden churn, and shearing the sheep one at a time with hand clippers, she told herself, whilst Chris and Rhodri employed men who, with the use of electric clippers, could shear the combined flock in a day, often without so much as nicking any part of the beast they sheared.

But now, sitting at her ease in the pony cart whilst Lana took the reins, Nonny felt she could relax for a change. She realised she would miss her parents horribly when they left, but was sure that Rhys and Molly were doing the right thing. She knew all too well the terrible cold which winter brought to the mountains. When you were young and fit you could take it in your stride, but when you were her father’s age and already crippled with arthritis, it would be madness to turn down the chance of a home – and a job – in a climate which would help rather than hinder your recovery. As the pony trotted along the winding lanes and the slightly wider roads which led to the station she drank in the delicacy of the wild roses, the pink and gold of the honeysuckle and the wonderful scent from the creamy meadowsweet. Usually she was driving so kept her concentration on the road but now, as a passenger, she could look around her and appreciate the beauty of the summer countryside.

Presently her thoughts wandered. Two whole weeks had passed and she was missing Rhodri horribly. Not that she intended to let anyone else guess her feelings, telling herself that he was her best friend as well as her fellow worker and it was natural that she should miss him.

There was this cousin, as well. Why had he never mentioned her? He must have known that she would be interested in a girl who, like herself, worked on a hill farm, rearing sheep. But now that she thought about it, she realised that when they were together it was usually she who chatted, telling Rhodri every little detail of her day. In fact, she confided in Rhodri even more than in Chris, being very aware that Chris’s confidante was Lana now. Naturally, when they were married he would confide in his sister less and less, but it didn’t matter; Rhodri was always there . . .

‘Hey, dreamy! Are you listening to me? I said I thought we ought to have a grand party the weekend before your parents get aboard that ship for Australia. Of course I know one of the busiest times with the sheep is coming up, what with washing, shearing and dipping, but after that things go quiet for a week or so; we could have the party then.’

Nonny smiled to herself. ‘Chris always said you were a party girl at heart,’ she said accusingly. ‘Now you’ve decided that if you can’t get to parties in Liverpool you’ll bring them to us in Snowdonia.’ She dodged a swipe from her friend and slid along the seat to be out of range. ‘All right, all right, a party’s a grand idea. When Mum and Dad go back to Liverpool we’ll start planning the party and sending out invitations. It’ll be more fun if it’s a surprise, don’t you think?’

BOOK: A Sixpenny Christmas
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