Wheels of Fortune  –  A R Munday -aidd-  10,700 words

Chapter One  –

He was a reliable lad, everyone said so. Self confident and as happy on his own as he was with the lads. “A bit lippy,” was a neighbours description. He had worked for the town chemist for almost a year since leaving school. His un-thought-out plan was to go down the mines with his mates but his granddad was the pit gate man and he stopped him in his tracks and told him in no uncertain terms to clear off and find a different job. He wasn’t going down the mine.
He got employment working for the town chemist but the pay was poor and the prospects nil. If it wasn’t for the tips from the delivery of medicines to old ladies the job wouldn’t be worth doing. The tips made almost half his wages.
The sun was shining today heralding the summer to come as Freddy pedalled slowly along looking for where the sheep were being rounded up. When he saw that he knew he would probably locate the missing sheep-dip bath. The bath was hired out along with the chemicals but the farmer would pass it on instead of returning it.
Freddy stopped his pedalling at a farm gate and took a break to re-read the letter.
After reading it again he folded it up and returning it to the envelope, put it back his inside pocket. He then climbed onto the stone gate pillar and looked about the valley in front of him. To his left he could see sheep coming off the mountain and wondered if they were unknowingly being taken to the sheep dip. It was worth a punt so he set off once again to pedal the mile or two to the farmhouse. His pride lifted as he got near and saw that yes indeed, two men and a woman were pushing sheep up the ramp and into the bath. The men were herding and dragging the animals through while the woman; presumably the farmer’s wife, was ducking each sheep’s head under the water with a sweeping brush. Once, twice, before pulling the wooden bar out to let the animal out of the dip then replacing it again to trap the next animal. The sheep didn’t like it but it was far better than having tick worms munch their way through the skin and fester inside them.
Freddy left his bike at the farm gate and strode purposefully up to the little group.

“The chemist has sent me to find his sheep-dip bath. I’m to tell you that if it isn’t returned today there will be extra charges.”

The farmer looked up at Freddy and spat out,”Bugger off you, mind your own business. If Th-Roberts has anything to say to me he can come eer himself.”

“It is my business, I’m his agent,” replied Freddy elevating his delivery boy role to that of estate manager. “You have been told , it’s up to you. A bill will be sent if it’s not returned today. Good day to you misses,” he added pleasantly to the farmer’s wife but said no more to the farmer. That should insult him a little he thought to himself and without another word he turned on his heel and walked deliberately slowly to the gate and pedalled away back to town smiling to himself.

Instead of going back to the shop he diverted home as he had decided to reply to his letter from his childhood friend Michael who was a little older than him. Michael was working 250 miles away in a hospital in York and amongst his general chatter he mentioned that owing to an increase in private patients there were auxiliary vacancies at the hospital; Michael gave him the name of the Doctor who was in charge of hiring staff and added that if Freddy was interested then to mention Michael’s name in his application letter. Freddy began to construct his letter of application, by the third draft and second sheet of paper it was done. He set off back to the shop posting the letter on the way. He then reported his success with the sheep-dip bath to Mr Roberts. Four hours later a horse and cart drew up to the yard at the back of the shop with the bath loaded on the back.

A week later and Freddy’s mother was waiting for him as he came home. As soon as he was in earshot she told him that an official looking letter had arrived for him, by ‘official’ she meant that the name and address was typed. Reading that the postmark was York she guessed that it was either a job offer of a ‘we will keep you in mind’ let down. She was ambivalent about it, she wanted a future for her son but she had hoped he would still be with her living at home.

Freddy turned away from her as he tore open the envelope and read it. He turned back and excitedly told his mother that he had been offered a job. His unspoken thoughts then were that he had to write straight back to accept and to inform them when he would be arriving. He sat at the table and pondered the enormity of it all. Leaving home. A new town. A new country. A complete new life.

“Are you going,” asked his mother already fearing that she knew the answer; the only sensible answer.

“I have to ma,” he replied, “I will write back now and get it back by return. That’s what they will expect if I want the job.”

Thomas Roberts wasn’t too pleased to hear the news. He had a good lad all trained up and reliable not to say pro-active. He nonetheless wished Freddy well and on his last day and along with his wages he gave him four sticks of barley sugar for the long journey ahead.

Freddy was excited more that he could ever remember. He was still only 15 years old and here he was setting out on his own for a new life. He did have one friend in York thankfully a good one and that someone would be expecting him and could put him up for a short while.

Friday morning arrived and already his plan to be on his way at 6am had slipped. It was 6:35 by the time he had tied his packed suitcase and bedroll on the back of his bike and strapped his old school satchel containing food, a bottle of water, a puncture repair kit and four sticks of Barley sugar to his crossbar. At 6:40 he kissed his mum and his two sisters then shook his dad’s hand and with calls of love echoing in his ear he peddled away from his home until he reached the corner where he stopped and put his left foot to the ground, turned to look back and waved to his family. His younger sister waved with two hands and he thought that she had a tear in her eye but he was never sure, perhaps it was wishful thinking.

Pressing his right foot down the bicycle began moving again and three turns of the wheel later a high Laurel hedge swept away his vista like a theatre curtain.
The door had just closed on that part of his life, he was now completely on his own.

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Chapter Two

Strange thoughts flitted across Freddy’s mind. He had only gone half a mile to the town centre when he saw Judith Jones walking along the pavement. She had always been a pretty girl but today she was pulchritudinous beyond belief. He didn’t know if she knew he was leaving the town but she gave him a big smile. He smiled and half waved and then had a hollow feeling in his gut. Was he doing the right thing, should he abandon his plan and wait for a more local prospect. He knew he couldn’t now; not this far in, but perhaps Judith didn’t know and she now found him desirable.

He had reached the edge of town now and moving on he crossed the river Loughor and turned right to head north on the A483 all the way to Welshpool.

The work had begun already as he lifted himself out of the saddle to propel the bike up the long hill away from the town. Doubt was leaching into his mind already but all changed when he saw miners walking home from the night shift in their sooty clothes. His granddad was right, the mines and this town wasn’t for him.

“Look the world in the face”, was granddad’s mantra, “and be happy.”

The road had levelled out now and every six minutes meant another mile was behind him. The frequent gradients slowed his pace but the free-wheeling down again was a minor pleasure. He first stopped at around 10am for a pee in the hedge then a mouthful of water and a chunk of barley sugar. Less than 15 minutes later he was on his way again guessing he was 40 miles from home now. His plan was to cover 95 miles a day so that he would arrive in York around midday on Sunday and have a few hours to settle down and settle in. So far so good.

Sweating slightly in the warm sunshine he undid another button on his shirt but it was time for another break so he stopped in the next village centre and got his food from his satchel and sat under the war memorial slowly eating his thick bread and cheese sandwiches, then one of his maids of honour buns his mum had baked. An elderly man was passing and he stopped in front of Freddy and asked,

“What t-you doing lad?”

Freddy smiled and being pleased to talk to some one at last explained that he had a job to go to in York and was making his way there. The old man rubbed his chin and told Freddy he was a brave lad setting out on such and adventure on his own and wished him luck. Freddy asked him about his life and family. He told Freddy he was alone now having lost his wife and two sons. Freddy asked if the boys were lost in the war and the old man pointed at the memorial just above Freddy’s head and simply said “Yes.” Freddy turned and saw the two engravings with the same family name and struggled to say something appropriate. The old man showed the palm of his hand to say that there was nothing to be said and walked away.

As Freddy drank his water the old man returned and handed him a bar of chocolate with the words;

“It isn’t a lot young fellah but something to look forward to when you stop tonight.”

Freddy took it and thanked him and watched the old gent walk away and marvelled at the milk of human kindness.

Drinking the last of his water he put his glass bottle away empty thinking he would fill later when he needed to. His calculation was that he was now 70 miles from home and only 25 miles from Welshpool. He hoped to pass through Welshpool then find somewhere to sleep. It should be easy.

An hour later and he found the first signpost saying Welshpool, but it also said 24 miles. It knocked him back a little. That was 10 miles further than his calculations. The hills must have paced much slower than imagined. Quickly re-calculating he concluded that it would be 3 hours before he had passed through Welshpool and it was late afternoon now. He took a few minutes to think things out. His first thought was that he was hungry so while he gathered his new plan together he ate his chocolate bar. His second thought was that he had underestimated his need for food. There wasn’t any room for more than he had packed so it would mean spending more money than planned. He had money but spending it on the journey wasn’t part of the original plan but spend it he must.

When he reached the next village he pedalled slowly while looking about then saw a woman tending her front garden, stopping at her gate he asked her if she would kindly fill his water bottle for him. She smiled but said nothing and taking the empty bottle from him went indoors, returning shortly she had the bottle filled but also had a cup of water.

“Drink this cup of water now young man and then your bottle will last longer”.

His thought was the she must have instinctively known that he was on a long journey and something about him must have informed her. This, he thought, was that he must have looked like a rugged and worldly traveller, but in reality it was the suitcase and bedroll tied to his bicycle.

Setting off once again he went over his need for more food. It was obvious that he would have to buy more food and realised that he hadn’t given eating much thought at all. His ma must have assumed he had because she would know that all she had packed into his satchel would only last a day. Two minutes after leaving the village he turned around realising that the shops would be closed by the time he reached Welshpool.

The village store was also the post office and he momentarily thought to post a card home but then felt that that was silly. Studying the stock Freddy chose to buy a large bread bloomer, a large segment of cheese and two apples.

“Where are you off to today?” asked the woman in Welsh.

“I have a got a job in York.” replied Freddy in Welsh. “And I’m hoping to be there by midday on Sunday.”

“Well your a strong looking lad and the weather is fair so your guardian angel won’t be needed.” Handing him his change she added “Good luck.”

Mounting his bicycle again he forced the bread and cheese into his half depleted satchel and an apple into a pocket then set off once more eating the second apple as he rode along. He was cheered and optimistic again now that his supplies had been replenished. A couple of miles further on he felt a gentle jarring as he crossed a rut in the road. It was nothing much but he knew what it probably was and dismounted to check the rear tyre. It was soft. He unclipped his pump from the frame and inflated the tyre again hoping the cause was the heat of the sun on the valve. Two miles further on he knew he was wrong and he stood up to pedal to lesson the weight on the rear wheel while he reached a field gate with a flat area adjacent to the road to work on. There was a ditch along the road with deep water in places so in order to avoid having to remove the whole wheel and handle the oily chain he pumped the tyre up once more then wheeled it into the ditch water and looked for bubbles. None appeared so he revolved the rear wheel a quarter turn and watched again. This time there were bubbles; one a second but small. He noted the position in relation to the valve and pulled the bike out of the ditch, removed his case and bedroll and stood it on its handlebars and saddle, then let the tube down again. Levering the tyre out of the rim for a third of it circumference he carefully pulled the inner tube out then felt gently with his fingers inside the now empty tyre. He felt the scratch as he did this then turned that part of the tyre inside out to reveal a thorn. He pulled it through the tyre with thumb and finger nails then let go and ran his finger inside once more to check. All was smooth so he set about repairing the inner tube. Blowing it up again he spat on his finger and moved it around where he thought the leak would be and then felt and saw the blow. It was a quick job to glue a patch on and replace the tube and tyre but he decided to let the adhesive set for a few minutes before inflating. Taking his water bottle out he then tore the top off the bread so that he had a thick crust in his hand and sat on the grass for a snack.

As he sat there with the bicycle still upside down a flat-back truck came along and stopped.

“Are you all right lad?” shouted the driver, “what’s the problem?”

Freddy, pleased to talk to someone again explained his puncture and the fact that he thought it was probably mended now and that he was on his way to York. The driver said he was a farmer on his way home and offered to take him and his bike the six miles to his farm turn-off if it would help to get him back on track. Freddy eagerly agreed and they put the bike on the back of the truck and off they went.

Freddy chatted about wanting to get through Welshpool before finding somewhere to spend the night. The farmer offered his hay loft but his farm was south of Welshpool so Freddy declined. Soon he was on his way again and shortly after he was entering Welshpool with the railway on his right. He didn’t stop but felt he was leaving it when he passed the railway station. Peddling out of the other side of town he felt wonderful. Day one had been a success and now all that he needed to do was find a place to sleep the night away.

Having got a couple of miles clear of the town he began to look for a farm that may have a suitable barn. A little further on he saw a farmhouse about 200 yards off the road so he turned in and ignoring the barking dog he knocked on the door and waited. No one came so he knocked again and again there was no answer. He was a bit stumped as to what to do next but then a large red faced man appeared from a cowshed and shouted,

“Clear off you! We don’t want any!”

Freddy tried to explain that he wasn’t selling anything but the man wasn’t listening.

“Go on! Bugger off before I set the dogs on you.” he shouted.

Freddy had no choice, he turned his bike around and rode off but when he was halfway to the main road he stopped and shouted back at the glowering man, “Nasty sod, I bet you’ve got no friends.” Then having got the last word in he peddled quickly away.

He was a little deflated now, he hadn’t considered that he would upset someone enough for them to become so aggressive. Partly because he was more upset than he was prepared to admit and partly because Red-face was their neighbour he passed the next two farms but it was becoming dark now and he needed to find somewhere to sleep. He knew in the old days people would walk from town to town and repair into the fields at night but he had no intention of doing that.

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Chapter Three

Freddy’s thoughts were tugged to home and the contentment of regular routine. His dad would be home from the tin plate works now and would have finished his evening dinner and be in his favourite chair reading the Loughor Gazette that was printed every weekend. No doubt he would be on his third cigarette by now too. Mum would be clearing the detritus of the evening meal ably assisted by his younger sister Nancy who was no doubt being instructed in the awful choice of man her elder sister had made and how she was to learn by her sister’s mistake. Freddy smiled to himself. Ivor’s only fault was that he liked the gee-gees and making penny bets. He hardly drank alcohol, was very polite and made up tall stories that had children hanging on his every word. He was also a very happy and joyous person. If he had been a priest he would have perhaps been good enough but priests don’t marry. No one would be good enough for ma’s daughters in his mother’s eyes. Perhaps he was well out of it being her only son.

The mooing of a cow over a hedge pulled him back to the here and now. He was tired and hungry and had already achieved this days target so, he wondered, ‘What am I messing about at’, the next thought was that the very next farm building is the one; it has to be. Almost immediately he saw a farm off the road but with a closed 5-bar gate that gave the unwritten message, ‘not welcome’, but he took a deep breath and dismounting his bike opened the gate and walked through and to the dwelling. Knocking at the farmhouse door he waited a short while then heard a bolt being slid aside. The door opened and he was confronted by a slim, little, sandy haired man with his shotgun over his arm. Stunned for a second Freddy then blurted out his request to use a barn to sleep in as he was on his way to a new job in York. The farmer was unimpressed and never changed his expression but pointed at a building and said. “You can use that, there’s straw up top and water in that trough. Be gone by the morning. He then added, “Do you smoke?”

“No” lied Freddy, but he hadn’t got any with him and he knew all farmers feared fire in their barns.

“Good job”, replied the farmer and he closed the farmhouse door and threw the bolt.

Freddy walked his bicycle toward the building. It had a double door with one half swung open at 90 degrees and with a rock at either side holding it in place. There were grass tufts growing around the rocks, seemingly the door was never closed. Taking his bike inside he noted a lot of machinery stored about the place. There was a ladder up to a mezzanine floor and in the back corner another single door with a large gap beneath that cats or chickens could easily pass under. He leaned his bike against what looked to him like an old thresher of some sort and then went to look through the back door. It opened easily and he saw an open area with a fence about 20 yards away with cows beyond and chickens to this side. He returned into the store house and climbed up the ladder to the mezzanine floor. He saw, as promised by ‘shotgun’, a lot of straw plus a pile of jute sacks. There were other objects about too. A horse collar was hanging from the wall along with some other tack. Old tools and other clutter were on the floor. Everything appeared to be unused for years. Picking up a rake he pulled some straw out and levelled it to form a bed and then laid several sacks across it as tiles on a roof. ‘That will do nicely’ he thought to himself. Returning to the ground he picked up his water bottle and drained it down his throat. Then went outside to the trough and pressing down the ball valve he re-filled it from the spout.

Standing in the evening sunshine he once again felt happy. A good day had elapsed and now he was fixed up for the night. With that thought he returned to the store and put the bottle on the flat top of what seemed to have been a winnower. He then went out of the rear door and had a pee up the brick wall. Standing still then he gazed at the distant hills and the interplay of the dying sun on the ravines scarring the sides and at the faint white dots of sheep that could have been tombstones if they didn’t continually move. Turning on his heel he entered the store again and was surprised to see a woman in there. She too was small and slim except that she appeared to be pregnant and held her left hand protectively over her bump. Freddy decided not to mention it.

“Hello young man, are you getting things sorted out?” She said.

“I am misses, and thanks for letting me stay.” He was assuming that she must be ‘shotguns’ wife.

“What’s your name lad?” She asked.

“Freddy.”
She moved sideways a little so he could see the winnower and turning slightly she pointed at a mug and a plate. “There’s a gift for you Freddy, hot broth, bread and two eggs; they’re hard boiled but still hot so you’ve been warned.” She smiled at him.

“Well thank you very much indeed misses; I couldn’t wish for anything better,” and at that moment it was the truth. “Thanks for your kindness.”

She smiled again and walked to the doorway. “By-the-way, don’t take too much notice of Mr Griffith, he likes to appear to have the upper hand where strangers are concerned. He’s a good man,” and then she left him alone.

Freddy found an old ammunition box and used it as a stool while he enjoyed his feast on the winnower. After eating he undid his bed roll and took it up to the mezzanine. He could not decide which way to lay it but settled for the Mac on the sacks and the blanket on top of him. It was too early to turn in but there was nothing else to do. He had the book his dad had given him, ‘The ragged trousered philanthropist’, but it was too dim now to read it. Taking his boots and jacket off he laid down and fell into exhausted sleep very quickly.

It was six o’clock when Freddy woke and looked around him, the daylight was just beginning to cascade through the doorway. He must have slept soundly for around nine hours. Replacing his boots he climbed down the ladder, went outside, removed his shirt and vest then went to the trough and ducked his head into the cold water and rubbed vigorously. He had a towel in his case but didn’t want to use it as he would then have to pack it away still damp so instead he wandered about stroking the water off onto his hands and flicking it away until he was dry, he then returned to the store, got dressed and thought about breakfast. He ate half of the loaf and half of the cheese and put the apple in his jacket pocket then made a mental note to replenish his food during the morning. The shops would close around midday on Saturday so leaving it until later would not do. Tomorrow was Sunday, there would be few shops open if any at all.

He tidied up the mezzanine, cleaned the mug and plate and left them neatly on the winnower. He then repacked his case and bedroll onto the bike and checking nothing was amiss walked the bike outside, stopping at the trough to replenish his water bottle he then mounted his bike and set off for Holmfirth 106 miles away.

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Chapter Four

Freddy was unaware that he had already entered England a few miles back then crossed back into Wales for a few miles before turning east and crossing the border once more. What he expected of England wasn’t clear in his mind and now, being there, he could not see any differences except that speaking Welsh would be pointless. It was ten o’clock when he took his first break from cycling and had a rest stop. He sat on a bench on a broad grass corner on the edge of a village. It was then he noticed for the first time in his life that he could not see a mountain anywhere. After ten minutes and a slug from his water bottle the journey was continued for another hour before stopping once more. He didn’t have a map. All he had was a list he had made using Th-Roberts atlas. That was when he decided on his sleep points of Welshpool and Holmfirth and then he had picked out towns on the route in order that he would know where he was when he passed through them. The next on his list was Chester.

Peddling along he not aware that his dull mood was simply loneliness. It normally didn’t bother him at all but normally meant about ten hours in one day not over 24 hours with no one who knew him aware of where or how he was.

He was now passing through a built-up areas with the odd field between then buildings again. There were plenty of people about but no one took any interest in him as he made his way through their town. He could not see any suitable places to stop so was reluctant to; instead he simply kept moving. The result was that he had almost covered half the days mileage before he made his midday stop in a village. It was almost noon. He knew that most shops did not stay open after midday on Saturdays so decided to ask a young girl on the pavement. She simply pointed up a side street and sure enough 50 yards along it was a shop. He bought another loaf, a tin of beans, four carrots, more cheese, a bar of chocolate and a bag of biscuits. There was temptation to buy a bottle of lemonade but the bulk and weight made it a bad choice on a bike. He undid his bedroll and re-rolled it with the bread,cheese and 3 carrots inside and tied it back onto the case and bike frame. Remounting the bicycle he peddled back to the main road and smiled at the young girl who was still there. She simply put her tongue out in reply. It took another 20 minutes before he cleared the town and he then realised that he had passed through Chester.

The passing of fields and gates and solitary houses was monotonous. He tried to cheer the view by looking at the differences; some fields had cows in them, some had crops and some were simply grass. A highlight was when a car, bus or lorry passed him or when he passed a horse and cart plodding along. He then saw a lorry in the distance parked half off the road. It must have passed him a few miles back but he could not bring it to mind. Drawing nearer he could see a man and a woman stood at the rear nearside wheel. Seeing the chance to talk to someone Freddy pulled up and asked if there was a problem. The woman was in a crouched position and Freddy noticed that her body was sculpted by her thin cotton dress into sexy ‘S’. How lovely he thought to himself and a longing grabbed his throat. Looking up she told Freddy that the tyre was punctured and two wheel nuts where proving difficult to loosen. He then realised that she was not much older than himself and the man must be her father. The father looked up at Freddy and revealed a sweaty face that spoke of some time of hard struggle.

“Hello young man,” he said while at the same time falling back from his crouched down stance to sitting on his backside. He rested his elbows on the inside of his knees with his hands dangling limp. “Two of the nuts are stuck and I can’t shift ’em.”

Freddy laid his bike down on the kerbside grass and then crouched beside the man and looked at the wheel. The jack was in place but taking only half the weight so the tyre was still in contact with the road. Until all six nuts were loosened the wheel could not be lifted clear for changing. Freddy got hold of the brace and tried as hard as he could to loosen a nut but with no success. The man said he had tried to shift the nut by hitting the end of the brace with a hammer but the brace handle just seemed to bounce. Recalling his childhood watching farmers working on agricultural machinery Freddy picked up the hammer and firmly tapped each of the six facets of one nut several times working opposites in turn. That accomplished he socketed the wheel brace again and strained to loosen the nut but again without success. The man thanked him for trying but it seemed that they would need to call a mechanic with a bigger wrench and bigger shoulders.

“It usually works in the end,” said Freddy picking up the hammer once more, “I will give it another go,” and with that he repeated the tapping sequence, socketed the brace once more and heaved at its shaft. There was a loud crack as the nut moved slightly. He heaved at it again and moved the nut a little more. With a little more tapping the nut finally began to turn with the brace and it was removed.

“Bloody well done fellah,” said the man loudly, “one more and we’re there.”

Freddy repeated the sequence on the last nut and was eventually successful again. The man thanked Freddy and told him to rest and let him finish changing the wheel. Freddy stood up and moved away letting the man jack it clear of the ground so that he could change the wheel for the spare one.

The girl then approached Freddy and also thanked him and then looking at the bike with the suitcase and bedroll asked him where he was going. Freddy told her and she seemed pleased for him. Having not had a conversation for a long time he then went on about what had happened yesterday and the day before and all about his mum and dad and sisters. The girl smiled and nodded a lot but never got the chance to speak herself as Freddy couldn’t seem to stop himself for several minutes. Eventually he did run out of steam and asked her what her name was. She replied that it was Eleanor and the man was her dad, Samuel, Sam to his friends. She asked his name and then said that Freddy was a good name and it seemed to suit him will.

Sam by now had completed the wheel change and was removing the jack. Having been privy to the conversation Sam approached Freddy and shook his hand then suggested that he put his bike on the lorry and join them for lunch at their home. Freddy considered the offer while saying non-committal pleasantries like; ‘that’s a kind offer’ and ‘you don’t have to do that’. After several seconds he decided it was a good idea for two reasons; the first was his need for a good meal and the second was his almost desperate need to talk and interact with people. The loneliness today was almost tactile, he had never been on his own for this length of time ever before in his life.

Sam helped him put his bicycle over the drop-door at the rear then all three sat together in the cab. Freddy was sat by the door with Eleanor in the middle and he was very conscious of being pressed up against her and with the jogging of the lorry things were becoming embarrassing for him. He was glad that he had not replaced his jacket after his exertions and had it in his lap.

During the journey Sam and Eleanor asked many innocuous questions and listened to Freddy’s answers. By the time that they had turned off the main road 11 miles further on they knew all about his life in a little Welsh town and the workings of farmers and chemists, about his greater family and his mother’s disapproval of Ivor and the heat and fumes inside a tin-plate factory and how his dad blamed them for his cough.

All that he had learned was that Eleanor was an only child and that they ran a scrap yard with a smallholding adjoining it and this day they had delivered sheep to an abattoir. He also noted that Eleanor wore no rings on her fingers but she was probably only 16 or 17 years old so that wasn’t a surprise.

A mile and a half later the lorry was turned off the lane into an unpaved yard with a large two-story house to the right and other single story stable like buildings in a row to the front of them. Sam drove into one of the open fronted buildings in front of them and parked up. Eleanor walked straight over to the house while Sam helped Freddy to unload his bike from the rear of the lorry before walking over to the house themselves. Sam beckoned him to lean his bike against the house wall and follow him indoors.

The main door lead straight into a large kitchen where Eleanor now stood with her mother, a plump, red faced woman who’s face easily formed into a broad smile. Behind them was huge Inglenook fireplace with the ancient roasting pulley contraption still fastened above it and in the centre of the room another old world remnant in the form of a large, solid, six-leg table.

“So you must be Freddy,” beamed the woman, “The saviour of the day.”

“Yes, err, that’s me. I mean, err”

“Call me Peggy,” interrupted the woman, “and do sit down, the food won’t be long.”

Eleanor appeared at his side with a mug of tea and placed it in front of him. Sam sat at the table next to him and Eleanor brought two more mugs and gave one to her father then sat opposite Freddy with the other.

“Are you very hungry Freddy?” Asked Peggy.

“I am a bit, it seems to use a lot of energy peddling all day,” he replied, “but I did eat earlier on before starting out.”

Sam then began to give his wife a synopsis of what Freddy had told them on the journey and every once in a while said, “That’s right isn’t it Freddy?”

Freddy nodded each time Sam said this even though Sam had made several errors. He wasn’t from Cardiff; he wasn’t 17 years old and he needed to be in York on Sunday evening not sometime next week. Peggy broke off her husband’s monologue and she with Eleanor began to serve lunch that was a large fry up that had Freddy salivating with expectation. There were sausages, eggs, mashed potatoes, peas and a thick slice of fried bread. The pleasure of eating it almost overwhelmed his senses and his mug of tea was replenished by Eleanor without him having to ask. This hiatus of pleasure was too soon over and as the table was cleared and the large stone kitchen sink filled, Freddy began to think about leaving and continuing on his lonely journey into his future in “God’s own County”, as Michael had called it in his letter.

“That was heavenly Peggy,” began Freddy, “It’s an ill wind that doesn’t blow someone a little good and your puncture did that for me Sam. I have had the best hour in two days being here with all of you.” He looked into Eleanor’s eyes when he said this and was a little surprised to see her look down at the table in slight embarrassment. He wondered if she had been misled by her father into thinking he was 17 and her equal. The succulent thought of spending the day and evening with her pervaded his mind and didn’t subside until Sam spoke.

“You don’t have leave now Freddy, you are welcome to rest up here today then set off fresh in the morning.”

This new plan was appealing on several levels but he was still over 30 miles to Holmfirth and he knew there were some hills to cross before he could reach there. They would slow up his progress. If he left his departure until tomorrow he would be facing about a 95 mile journey and would not reach York until evening. He made a decision.

“Thanks for that Sam, it would be good but I know it’s best that I follow my plan and reach York in the early afternoon to sort myself out for Monday morning.”

“That’s a shame Freddy,” purred Eleanor, “I was thinking that I could show you the smallholding and my bore pig and Lucy my goat with her kids.”

“And the scrapyard too.” interrupted Sam, “There’s some really interesting machinery in there, with a bit of work I reckon I could make a good one from two and sell a machine instead of scrap metal; and there are some military motor bikes too that still go.” he enthused.

The temptation to stay was beginning to overwhelm Freddy. He was now so undecided that the simple interjection from Peggy tipped him over to accept the generosity.

“Go on lad, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

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Chapter Five

Eleanor led Freddy around the outside of the house and through the gate that led to the smallholding. Freddy then realised that the scrapyard was a field away from the farmhouse and although this broad pathway led to it , it had its main access gate straight off the lane that was a hundred yards beyond the farmhouse access. Eleanor turned left and they walked past vegetable plots and wandering chickens and away from the house until they reached the pigsty. Eleanor called the pig by name, Bunter, and whether it was a response to its name or simply some company, Bunter duly appeared from his pen and wandered over to them at the fence.

“Bunter’s all mine Freddy”, bragged Eleanor, “and he is very popular with the ladies. I get stud fees when he goes off for a few days.” She leaned over the fence and stroked Bunter’s back and he grunted his pleasure. “It’s a little early but I’ll feed him now, It’ll save me returning later.” She went off to the vegetable plots to get some feed.

Freddy stood with Buster and asked him how he liked his job as a stud. Buster simply grunted, Freddy smiled to himself. Looking about he could see that the land was flat but in the distance to the east he could see hills, a couple of which he was going to have to work his way passed tomorrow. Eleanor returned with a bucket half full of vegetables that she tipped over Buster’s pen into his wooden trough.

“Come on.” Eleanor invited. “I’ll show you Nanny and her two kids.” And with that she walked off toward the far end of the barn outbuildings where she kept her goat. It was a large enclosure with a high sturdy fence. They went through the gate and Nanny wandered over to greet Eleanor. Freddy thought Nanny was a bit smelly but then he was more used to sheep. The kids then followed their mother and wandered up to Eleanor’s legs and were rewarded with a scratch.

“Don’t you have a billy goat then Eleanor?” asked Freddy.

“No”, she replied, “I like the milk and will sell the kids when they’re weaned. I don’t have a use for a billy. I borrow one from an old friend of mine when one’s needed.”

She turned and nodded to one of the stables, This one had the rear wall knocked open. She took hold of his upper arm and tugged him to follow her and he then saw that it was half full of straw for the animals. The original door opposite was still there but straw was piled up against it. The opened side faced west and was now in full sunlight. Eleanor sat on the straw and Freddy sat next to her.

“I love it here on an evening when the sun shines.” Mused Eleanor closing her eyes and facing the sun. “You can close your eyes and dream of other worlds, of other lives, of other people.”

Freddy was already filling that dream; he was on a journey to another world, another life and new people but he replied with “Yes, it must be very relaxing, it’s so peaceful.”

“Did you have a lot of friends in Wales Freddy?”

“Yes of course, but I did enjoy being on my own sometimes, like you and this spot, I enjoyed walking by the river. I could think things through then, sort my thoughts out like a stranger might do; see them.”

“Do you have a girlfriend Freddy?”

“Not really, not now, I was sort of best mates with Angharad Davis but that’s in the past I suppose.”

“Best mates, what does that mean Freddy, did you ever kiss her?”

“Yes of course I did, on her birthday and the like.”

“Do you want to kiss me Freddy?”

“When is it your birthday?” he teased.

They sat for a few seconds looking into each others faces and Eleanor moved toward him and kissed gently and lingeringly on his lips. His mind wasn’t sure what was happening but his body was and it pumped up instantly. Eleanor laid down sideways and pulled him down with her. He put his hand on her waist and kissed her mouth then her face and neck as he’s seen it done in films. She put her hand on his hand and slid it up onto her left breast. Freddy’s mind went into overdrive; there was no hiding his pleasure and he fondled and kissed her for what seemed minutes. Sliding her hand down along his shirt front she tugged at his trouser buttons and uncoupled them to release him then taking hold she squeezed and it was all over. The tryst ended prematurely.

Freddy laid back smiling and feeling somehow changed. Eleanor shuffled away a little not wanting to stain her dress.

“That was faster than Buster.” she giggled. “I’m just going to wash my hands at the trough.” she got up, gave him a lingering smile and strolled away.

Freddy decided to do the same but not until his excitement had died down. A minute went by without any reduction and he pondered whether or not he could do it again straight away, but shortly afterwards, as Eleanor returned, things were tucked up and buttoned.

“I’ll go and clean up too.” He said, then got up and went to the trough. After rinsing himself clean he noticed his trouser front was stained so he leaned against the trough side and splashed and rubbed it clean. Deciding then that it looked bad he splashed more water up his shirt to give the impression that he had got a drenching somehow. Replenishing Buster’s water trough would be a good story, so he splashed a little more water down one trouser leg to add authenticity.

Afterwards, Eleanor took him to the scrapyard for a look around telling Freddy that if she didn’t her dad would insist on showing him later. The scrapyard was a lot smaller than Freddy had imagined. The access lane from the public road was long but with garden produce growing either side of it. It only opened out into a scrapyard for the last half of its length. Although there were many pieces of agricultural machinery dumped about they all seemed not to have moved for a long time. Grass was growing long around their wheels and towing frames and in addition smaller items had been thrown onto large ones or leaned up against them. There were two Matchless motorcycles leaning against the fence that looked like recent acquisitions and also a tractor but he reasoned the tractor wasn’t scrap but was a working part of the smallholding. One motorcycle was crunched up at the front and it seemed obvious it had had a head-on crash, the other bike had been on fire under the seat. The engine was black and the whole seat area burnt away. The front end though was undamaged and and it made sense that one good machine could be cobbled together from the two. Everything else so far as Freddy could see was junk.

It slowly dawned on Freddy that no attempt had been made to break anything up to take away for sale to a scrap merchant. This was Sam’s daydream he reasoned, collect old scrap machinery then break it up and sell it by the lorry load. The collecting side, the fun side, had gone well enough but the real work of breaking had never commenced. He doubted that a motorcycle would ever rise from the ashes either. This also explained why Sam didn’t know about tapping rusty nuts to loosen them and consequentially why the scrapyard would never make any money.

Eleanor, a little bored by Freddy’s interest in the scrapyard, tugged his arm in the direction of the house. They walked slowly hand in hand and Freddy felt that he had grown a lot in one day. His feelings for Eleanor were that she was wonderful and he was becoming infatuated.

Eleanor chatted away to him about her friends and their boyfriends and the Saturday Beetle Drive plus dance that her parents took her to now and again. How she and her mother went to Skegness for a week in summer to stay with her mother’s sister at her bungalow on the edge of the town and how she showed the chickens at the agricultural show every year and once won second prize. She explained that the pair of prize birds were really her dad’s but he always let her prepare them and show them. Freddy listened and said nice things every now and again and wondered if he was falling in love. When the shadows were long and Freddy’s pants had dried out they decided to return to the house.

Peggy greeted them cheerily as they entered the house. “You’ve been a long time, did you get lost?”

“No, I showed Freddy the scrap yard too.” Explained Eleanor.

“And I saw the matching Matchless’. “Added Freddy.

“Tea anyone?” Asked Peggy already pouring out three cups. “Your dad’s gone out again with some deliveries.”

“Good job I showed you the scrap yard then Freddy.” Smiled Eleanor.

They sat around the table then Peggy broached the details of Freddy staying overnight.

“I think it best if you sleep in the parlour tonight Freddy, the spare room has become a storage room and you can’t move in there. The sofa is large and comfortable and I expect you will want to be up with the larks and on your way after a breakfast. I’m an early riser so will give you a nudge at six, will that be OK by you?”

Freddy stuttered a reply as it dawned on him that all of this would be history tomorrow morning. “Yes, yes, that’s a good plan. The sooner I go the sooner I will arrive in York I suppose.”

Eleanor never spoke and nor did she look at him.

That neatly settled Peggy said, “Would you like to chop some logs for me Freddy, I like to keep a good stock by the stove so they’re dry when I use them?”

Freddy willingly agreed. It would feel good to pay back a little for their kindness. He and Eleanor went outside to the back of the house and he set to to chop up the six inch diameter tree branches that Sam had sawn into lengths. He and Eleanor chatted while he worked and eventually he ran out of sawn billets so concluded his task. After carrying two armfuls indoors Peggy told him not bring any more indoors as there was no more room for them.

Sam returned a little later and after chatting a while dinner was serve up and eaten. Peggy and Eleanor then cleared away while Sam sat with his pipe and talked about Matchless motorcycles with Freddy. When the women returned the radio was turned on and they all listened to a Big-Band variety program until its conclusion signalled bedtime.

Freddy didn’t manage to kiss Eleanor goodnight, they had to settle for the word only. Freddy sorted out the sofa and the blanket and laid down but could not sleep. He was hoping for a nocturnal visit from Eleanor but she never came. He considered going to her but as he had never been upstairs he did not know where she would be. He thought she was wonderful and wanted her to be his, here and now.

Doubts about going to York filled his mind. Should he stay here about. He convinced himself that it was fate being here. It was in the countryside like in Wales, he could see high hills from here like in Wales. There was work to do too. Sam, he felt, liked him so he could suggest that for his keep he could sort the scrapyard out. Amalgamate the motorcycles and sell the good one, then start to break up the scrap so it could be taken to the scrap metal merchants, perhaps buy more old stuff, cars as well as agricultural machinery for breaking up. It all made perfect sense to him. He would put it to Sam in the morning.

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Chapter Six

“Morning Freddy.” Said Peggy softly, “time to get up lad.”

She left him and went into the kitchen while Freddy sorted out his things and folded the blanket. He then went into the kitchen where Peggy had laid him a plate and cup. She then gave him two fried eggs with thick fried bread and poured him tea. Freddy ate it all enthusiastically and then she gave him buttered toast with home made strawberry jam. Sam then appeared from outdoors and greeted Freddy then sat next to him. The immaculate plans that Freddy had dreamed up the night before had now waned and he held them back. Sam talked to his wife about going to church and Freddy remembered that it was Sunday now. Sam suddenly stood up and shaking Freddy’s hand said it was good to have met him but he must now go and sort out some tasks before he took Peggy to church, and with that he was walking out of the door. Peggy gave Freddy the remaining quarter of the loaf of bread on the bread board and reminded him to fill his water bottle before leaving. He was left with no choice but to collect his belongings and set off.

Only minutes later Peggy walked him to the door and stood in the doorway while Freddy packed his bike then she bid him good luck. He mounted his bicycle and then glanced at the upper windows but there was no sign of Eleanor.

“Give my thanks and regards to Eleanor please Peggy.” He said.

“I will Freddy, I will.”

“And thanks to you and Sam too.” he remembered to add.

Confused and perplexed he pressed down on the pedal, waved to Peggy, then set off for the long journey to York. When he reached the junction he stopped and looked back once more to see that Peggy had gone indoors and still there was no sigh of Eleanor. With a torn heart he set off down the lane back to the main road.

He peddled slowly at first and pondered what had happened back there. It was as though Eleanor’s parents had seen the lover’s tryst and decided that they must never meet again, but that was unlikely. Perhaps Eleanor had told her mother; but what? Nothing really serious had happened, well not to her anyway. In the end he concluded that she wasn’t a very nice person and had had a bit of fun with him and that for her was all it was. One of life’s mysteries was his final thought and began to push harder on the pedals.

It was still early and a little cold but the clouds were patchy and there wasn’t any rain in the air. He felt all alone once more and wondered if he should have found a job in Swansea nearer to his home.

When he reached the main road and turned east his mood improved. A new optimism took control and he turned his face to the sky and forced himself to smile broadly. He had tasted physical love and he had had his heart broken all in one day. If he could put that into the back of his mind he was growing up; he convinced himself.

The hills in the distance did not seem to get any closer as the miles slipped past. Then he could not see the hills any more, only the one hill in front of him. Suddenly from nowhere it seemed to be hard work pedalling and Freddy realised that he had reached the Peak District. To him it was like home and it pleased him to think that home wasn’t unique, it could be replicated in other lands. It was an eight mile slog uphill until he crested Holm Moss and then it was downhill all the way to Holmfirth. Now that he had cleared the hills it was warmer and he looked out for a place to take a snack break. It wasn’t long before he found a place that had served him well before; a place where it was likely that he could pass the time of day with another human being, a war memorial in the centre of a village. There were iron railing in a square around this one and with a gate to the front. He leaned his cycle against the railings and taking the bread Peggy had given him, the cheese he still had left and his water bottle he entered the enclosure and sat on the plinth to eat. One day, he thought to himself, I will have to write all of this down. A couple walked past, the man looking straight ahead but the woman turned her head slightly toward him and smiled. Freddy mused that they had probably just left church so the woman was emboldened to do her Christian duty. No one else passed by in the 15 minutes he was sat there. Repacking his bike and remounting he put foot to pedal and moved off once more for York over 50 miles to the north east.

As he rode along Freddy tried to calculate his arrival time. It was now around ten-thirty and it would take around five hours of pedalling so not counting stops he could be there before four. With stops and having to find Bootham Hospital in York it would be four-thirty at the soonest. He wasn’t pleased to think that he would arrive so late and hoped that Michael hadn’t given up on him.

In Freddy’s mind things seemed to speed up. Passing through Wakefield felt good, then Garforth, meaning that Leeds was somewhere behind him, confirmed when he joined the The Great North Road, the A1, the road from London to Edinburgh. He was only rolling along it for five miles before turning east onto the A64 to York. Tadcaster was the last marker on his list. York was next only nine miles away.

Entering the suburbs of York was reassuring, it looked very prosperous with large houses and hotels lining the route. Then York Racecourse was on his right followed a few minutes later by the astounding site of one of the cities four gates. This one being Micklegate Bar. The only time Freddy had seen anything like it was in Hollywood films with Douglas Fairbanks on the battlements. He then stopped and dismounted to consult his letter but took a few seconds to take in the view. Taking the letter from deep in his inside pocket he re-read the instructions.

“Turn left at Micklegate Bar and follow the road round with the old city walls to your right. Pass the Railway Station on your left and then cross the river over the bridge. Leaving the bridge you will see York Minster straight in front but turn left before you reach it and pass the Theatre Royal on your right. Turn left at Bootham Bar and Bootham Hospital is a quarter of a mile on your right. The porter in the main entrance will show you where to find me. Safe journey Freddy.”

It seemed simple enough and so it proved to be. Less than 15 minutes later the porter was sending him to the men’s corridor and Michael.

Knocking on the designated door Freddy waited but no response came so he tried again but again without success. Wondering what to do next he looked up and down the corridor but there was no one about. Then the door at the end of the corridor squeaked and Michael appeared.

“Freddy, you’re here at last, welcome.” Then as he reached Freddy he took his hand and shook it firmly. “I expected you ages ago but we are on dining duty now and for another hour at least.”

“It’s OK Michael, I expected to arrive mid-afternoon but it didn’t work out that way.”

Michael unlocked his room and took Freddy in and told him to put his case and belongings down.

“I have to return to the dining room Freddy, so you can wait here and have a rest or come with me and see the place you’re going to work and meet the people you are going to work with.”

“I’ll come with you Michael.” Freddy replied. “I don’t want to be on my own for a moment longer.”

“Come on then Freddy,” enthused Michael with a big smile, “when it’s all over we eat ourselves so you can look forward to that.”

“Can I look forward to a bath later too?” pleaded Freddy.

“Yes my friend, but later after we’ve had dinner. Now come on.”

They both walked briskly to the dining room. Michael told Freddy to watch and learn while he himself joined the others serving, clearing and hand feeding the residents. Looking about him Freddy saw that about 40 people were sat either side of a row of tables in the centre of the room, all had a napkin tucked into their collars although some of the more disconnected ones persisted in pulling them down into their laps. Also a few were being spoon fed by male orderlies and female nurses and other staff were providing food or clearing crockery and cutlery.

Michael finished spoon feeding a young man and then approached Freddy who was standing against a radiator under a window.

“Do you want to help clear some plates Freddy and take them to the kitchen?
One thing, make sure you collect a knife and a fork with every plate. We have to count them when they’re finished but before they leave us.”

Freddy did as he was bidden and got a few nods from the other orderlies and a few smiles from the nurses. After a few visits to the kitchen Freddy bumped into Michael and Michael asked him if what he thought about the job so far.

“It’s good to work with lots of people Michael; do you know what, I think I’m going to enjoy it. By the way, who’s in charge because I can’t work it out?”

“I am in charge Freddy, I run the dining room.” replied Michael who then moved on to another task.

A pretty nurse walked passed Freddy and smiled with a lingering look into his eyes.

“I think I’m going to really enjoy working here.” Thought Freddy to himself and then a wave of exhilaration and lust for the future swept over him and rattled his spine.

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copyright – ARM 2014