Country Lovers (18 page)

“Managing on your own?” Dan inquired.

Bernard nodded.

Rhodri shouldered the responsibility for action. “I see there's one stable that's still got the whole roof left on it. How about if we clear it out? I'll sort out which dogs are OK, and we'll put them in there. Dan, you can wash out the bowls, and Bernard you get the food ready for the bowls when Dan's finished. Also water, if you please.”

“That stable has nowt in it at all, 'cept a load of old sacks from years back,” Bernard volunteered.

Dan raised an eyebrow at Rhodri, but he didn't notice, so to inspire Bernard, Dan began his job by collecting the bowls. The worst job was Rhodri's. He carefully removed any dogs who appeared reasonably healthy and carried them across to the stable he'd decided upon. Bernard was right; it was full of old sacks. Rhodri kicked them aside, thinking he'd keep them clean to use as bedding. Ten dogs, of all ages and in varying degrees of neglect, were put in the stable. The rest Rhodri carefully examined. Two breeding bitches were old and in such poor condition he would be doing them a kindness by putting them to sleep. This left eight young dogs, all about five or six months old, which Bernard had bred but obviously had not been able to sell, and no wonder.

Dan appeared with a stack of feeding bowls and a plastic washing-up bowl he'd spotted among the rubbish in the corrugated iron shed. He'd cleaned them all, and filled the plastic bowl with fresh water. “Where's Bernard?”

Desperately distressed by what he'd found, Rhodri said, “I can't believe this. There're two I want to put down because they're worn-out breeding bitches—too many litters, too little food—and looking at this motley lot, three have dicey hearts and three are so thin because of starvation and worms, I don't know whether to put them to sleep or let Bernard give them a second chance.” Rhodri pointed to one. “That pup's got deformed legs, due, I've no doubt, to too much inbreeding and too little calcium over the years. So he'll have to go. I think Bernard should be prosecuted.”

“He's coming. Put that one to sleep that's deformed—he can't be helped, he's leading a miserable life, and can only get worse. Let's give the others a chance.”

Bernard arrived with an enormous bucket of feed for the remaining dogs. Rhodri gave himself no time to think. “These two bitches—I want your permission to put them down.”

“Nay! Them's my two best bitches.”

“
Were
your two best bitches, Bernard. They've worn themselves out breeding for you. Two litters a year, was it? The first before they were a year old? Eh? For what, seven years? Eh?”

Bernard put down the bucket he was carrying. “Sometimes.”

Rhodri raised his voice in anger. “It's criminal, Bernard. This one I'm putting to sleep because he'll never find a home crippled as he is. You should never have let him live; it was cruel. These I'm hoping, with your help, to build up into handsome little dogs. They're well marked; someone will want them. They all need worming, absolutely, without doubt. I'm deeply grieved.” He shot such a woeful look at Bernard that he looked embarrassed.

“I don't want 'em like this. It's that I haven't been well, and things have gone from bad to worse. Just needed some help. You know.”

Rhodri nodded. Silently he got on with worming the dogs he wanted to save, organizing Bernard to dig a hole to bury the ones he'd put down, and then between them they emptied another stable that only required plastic sheeting to cover the place where the tiles had slid off the roof, and it made a safe, warm, clean place for the younger dogs to be kept.

Finally, the dogs got fed and watered and the burlap sacks, stored for years, were shaken out and used to make reasonably satisfactory bedding for them.

Dan looked at his watch. “Time we went. We've made a start for you. Tad's got your sheep, and we've done what we can today for the dogs. Either Rhodri or I will be back tomorrow afternoon to see the progress you've made in erecting an outside run for these dogs so they can move out of the stables and into the fresh air and be able to get some exercise.” He glanced at Rhodri, hoping he had his approval, and said, “We don't want to get the authorities involved, but by God, Bernard, Rhodri will have your guts if you don't improve your standard of care of these dogs. Won't you, Rhod?”

“Absolutely.”

They were both silent for a while after they left Badger's Lot, and then Rhodri broke it by saying, “I don't think I've seen such systematic cruelty in all my life. Downright appalling, it was. And the strange thing about dogs is they don't bear grudges.”

“I thought they were all very quiet, very subdued. I think if we hadn't gone there today, some would have died in the next few days. They might still die if we don't give him support. The chap's completely lost heart. You should have seen his sheep! Thanks for coming with me. Thanks for your expertise too. I've nothing but admiration for the way you kept your temper when you were so angry.”

“He's a mental case really.”

“What good will it do anyone if he ends up in hospital?” Dan cleared his throat and looked out of the window for a moment and then said, “I reckon his stud dog has already died. Otherwise where is he?”

“Hadn't thought about that, but I bet you're right. He must have had his own stud dog; no self-respecting breeder would want him taking his bitches for mating when they were in such bad condition. He must have had his own.”

Dan decided on a change of subject. “Old Man Jones enjoyed the market the other day.”

“Yes, he did. Full of it when I went to see Megan. What he needs, really.” He fell silent while he negotiated the dreaded traffic circle just outside Barleybridge. “Can anyone tell me why they have to make a traffic circle where you can go either way around it? I think the transport planners should be lined up and shot.”

Dan chuckled. “Too right. Will you go tomorrow?”

“I will. My half day today, so I'll drop you off now, and then I'm going to see Megan.”

“She's worth fighting for. Old Man Jones might be coming around to getting Megan some help. I put the ball in his court at lunch.”

“You did?”

“Told him he was no fool. I said his mind was razor sharp…”

“Too right, it is. In more ways than one where Megan's concerned.”

“Rose is taking him to a game fair at the weekend. She's determined to get him out and about.”

“That's wonderful.” By now they were parked in the practice car park. Rhodri turned to look at him and spoke without any of the resentment his voice frequently held when speaking to Dan. “We do appreciate Rose taking him out. By the time Megan's done the farm work and the cooking and things and attended to her father, she hasn't any spirit left for taking him anywhere at all. Anyway, he wouldn't go even if she could find the time, but he will with Rose.”

Dan thanked him and added, “Tell you what, Rhod, you'd better watch that big beggar Gab; he's got ‘stud' written in large letters on his forehead.”

Rhodri's mind absorbed the shock of hearing his own fears voiced and then he replied, “Well, I wouldn't have put it quite like that, but I do know what you mean.”

“If he decided to act upon his feelings, Megan wouldn't have a chance, and Old Man Jones couldn't do anything about it if he did.”

“Get out. I'm off.” Rhodri revved the engine up with spirited determination, and Dan leaped out, thinking if he didn't he'd be at Beulah Bank Farm before he could draw another breath. As he shut the car door, he said, “I'll leave Bernard to you, tomorrow.”

Rhodri nodded and the wheels were turning before Dan had shut the door.

Rhodri reached the humpbacked bridge, and as he passed over it he thought he'd caught sight of Megan's jade cardigan out of the comer of his eye. He braked, reversed, parked, and jumped out. He went to lean his arms on the wall of the bridge and look over. He was right—it was Megan, lost in thought, gazing at the stream as it bubbled and dashed along over the stones. She hadn't realized he was there, and for a moment he enjoyed watching her. She'd fastened her hair back with combs so it hung down her back but off her face, so he could see her profile unhindered. There was a loveliness about her that almost made his heart stop beating. The sun wasn't shining, but it seemed to him that she glowed without its help. His heart flipped into action again, but he still didn't let her know he was there. What Dan had said about Gab sprang into his mind. God! If ever he…He'd better let her know he'd seen her. Rhodri found a small loose shard of stone on top of the wall, picked it up, and threw it into the water, looking forward to her brilliant smile as she looked up and recognized him.

But he didn't get what he expected.

Instead, the face he saw when she looked up was filled with a kind of bitter determination, as though she were steeling herself to keep a grip on fear. Then when she saw it was Rhodri, relief flooded it and he was rewarded with a smile and a wave of her hand.

He was down the slope and beside her in a moment, his arm around her waist, hoping to dispel her mood. “My afternoon off. Would have been here earlier, but I went with Dan to a cruelty case. Kiss?” Rhodri squeezed her tightly to him and kissed her temple because she still hadn't looked at him properly.

Megan's arm crept around his waist and they stood silently staring at the water. She couldn't tell him. Couldn't find the words, not the right ones that would explain why she was here in her private paradise, trying to come to terms with the dreadful afternoon.

It had all begun when her father had had an altercation with Gab about some minor neglect of the farm work, so minor that, in fact, the reason for the upset had become quite lost in the subsequent turmoil. The three of them were in the kitchen eating lunch, her father having taken to eating with her and Gab at lunchtime to make sure, as her father had put it, there couldn't be any nonsense from Gab.

They'd both ranted and raved about it to begin with, but then more pressing matters emerged and Gab became exceedingly angry.

“Look here, Idris, I'm not a common or garden farmhand for you to take to task: I'm the eldest son of a well-to-do farmer, helping you out. That's all. Helping you out. I could walk out of here this minute and leave you to it. Up to milking, are you? Up to going up the hill to the sheep, checking they're OK? Rounding them up? Marshaling the dogs? Eh? I don't think so. Bit of hedging and ditching, unloading the feed bags? Up all hours in the lambing season? Eh?”

Mr. Jones didn't have an answer to all that.

“Getting the cows in the crush for TB testing? Are you up to that? I don't think so.” He paused, expecting an answer, and when he didn't get one, continued his tirade. “In that case, if you've nothing to say, don't come criticizing me from the comfort of that armchair of yours. Meggie and me manage very well, don't we, Meggie?” He took her hand and held it so she couldn't pull it away.

“Please, Gab, let go of my hand.” She said it so quietly, so gently, that anyone else would have done as she asked immediately. But not Gab. No, not Gab. He held it even more tightly and said to her da, “Mr. Jones, this daughter of yours, I want to marry her. I'll live here and when you get as you can't even walk about, I'll carry you wherever you want to go. I'll look after you in a way that that Welsh lover of hers isn't willing to do. How's that for a promise? I'd be a fine asset for this place. Very useful to have about, and I'd care for Meggie here, like no one else could. So I'm telling you I'm marrying her and she wouldn't be unwilling.” He looked around the kitchen as though he already owned it.

“Marriage! To an ape like you? I don't think so. Ha! Certainly not! She's here and here she stays.”

“Exactly! Here she stays with me, the three of us together.” The tone of his voice was eager. “You'd have some fine healthy grandchildren, I'd see to that.”

Megan had shuddered and he'd felt it because he was still holding her hand. “She won't admit to it, but she can't wait. That poofter of a Welshman couldn't stir a rice pudding never mind Meggie. She's mine is Meggie. So what do you say? Come to think of it, you haven't much choice.”

Megan's da replied, “I'd sell the farm first.”

“Oh! Brave words, those. Brave words. But only words. In the present climate you'd get nothing like its value.”

Megan's da got to his feet. “Megan, help me back to my chair in the sitting room. I've had enough of this.”

Gab released her hand and she took her da back to his chair. As he sat down he whispered fiercely, “I would, you know, I'd sell it first.”

“Don't worry, I'm not marrying him whatever he says.”

She'd waited to hear Gab leaving the kitchen, and when he'd gone, she'd tidied up the lunch things and made the dinner for the feral cats. They were waiting for her, standing about at various vantage points, eyes glinting. Only six today. Briefly she wondered where the other two were, but she opened up the stable door and put down two bowls of food. They always waited outside, fearful of being trapped, but it was Megan who was trapped because in the gloom of the stable she hadn't noticed that Gab was standing in there waiting for her. Her heart leaped into her throat and she thought, he knows my movements as well as I know them myself. As she turned to go out, he took her arm and pulled her to him. “I meant it. I really do. You and me. This farm. We'd make a go of it.”

He reached out and snatched at the stable door to close it.

Megan struggled to free her arm.

“Gab, please don't. You can't make me marry you. You really can't.”

“Then I'll leave. This minute. Right now.” He folded his arms across his chest and waited. By now the cats had gathered their courage and were standing by the door, the bravest daring to squeeze their way in.