by K C West
I rolled over and snuggled under the quilt. “Can’t be. It’s still dark outside. I bet the cows aren’t even awake yet.”
Kim threw the covers back and climbed out. “Come on, sleepyhead, it’s time to play farmer.”
“Whose bright idea was it to spend the night on a working dairy farm?”
“As, I recall, it was yours.”
“Oh, yeah.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed.
I heard Kim try the light switch, but the power was still off. “Damn,” she said.
I stumbled to the dresser and felt around for my jeans. “It just keeps getting better and better. Remind me never to do this again, okay?”
Kim laughed softly. “Indeed I will.”
“What time is it, anyway?”
“Early.” She flicked on her flashlight and laid it on the dresser.
“Brilliant. I figured that out all by myself.”
She put her arm around my shoulder and pulled me into an embrace. “You really don’t do mornings well, do you?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but the thought of cold water for washing and a cold breakfast doesn’t help my mood.”
“Geez, I forgot about that.” Kim finished dressing. “My feet are freezing. Have you seen my boots?”
“They’re under the bed, I think.” I searched for the rest of my clothing. “No full Welsh breakfast, no hot shower, and I can’t find my sweatshirt.”
“No whining, PJ. There’s no whining in dairy farming.”
I gave her a dirty look, which was wasted, considering the faint light. “You’re just a barrel of laughs sometimes.”
“I’m only trying to make the best of a bad situation.” She used her light to help me locate my missing shirt. “Here you go. Can’t have you going out to work half naked.”
“Thank you. You’re so thoughtful.” I tugged the shirt over my head and squinted into the mirror. “Hold that light over here, would you? I don’t suppose there’s time for me to put on makeup.”
“Don’t worry, the cows won’t care what you look like.”
“Wrong answer.”
“Oh. Uh - you look beautiful without any makeup at all.” She kissed me on both cheeks and my forehead.
“Nice recovery, Doc.” I returned her kisses. “Sorry I’m such a grouch.”
She tousled my hair. “You’re forgiven. Besides you’re adorable when you’re sleepy.”
We heard other guests moving down the hallway. “Come on.” I pulled her with me to the door. “We can’t keep those cows waiting.”
“Those poor animals. What have they done to deserve us?”
*
Having made good use of the fireplace again, Mrs. Fielding had hot tea and some sort of glutinous porridge ready for her guests in the kitchen. In various stages of wakefulness, we assembled around a massive oak table that emitted the faint scent of beeswax. There was just time for a few gulps and swallows before our hostess gave us further orders.
“Stop at the shed first, mind you. It’s wet underfoot, and you’ll need some Wellingtons. There’s cow dung, too, in the milking shed. You’ll not want to ruin your good shoes.”
Once at the shed, we climbed into the rubber boots. She divided us into teams and sent us to the barn.
One team was assigned to tend the chickens. Another team cleaned and replenished hay in the stalls, but the really lucky ones - Kim and I among them - got to hand milk the cows.
When I entered the milking shed, I wrinkled my nose. It was a knee-jerk reaction, one that I hoped the others hadn’t noticed.
“What’s the matter?” Kim asked, taking a deep breath and patting her chest. “Is your pretty little nose sensitive to this healthy aroma?”
“Oh sure, there’s nothing like a little Eau de Barnyard to start off the day.” I appreciated the Wellies. The concrete gutters in the milking shed brimmed with water, urine, and cow dung.
Mr. Fielding was most apologetic. “There’s naught but to do it the old-fashioned way, I’m afraid.” His soft, melodious voice barely carried over the din of mooing and shuffling cows. “The modern milkers use electric power, you see. We’ve none of that now, and the cows’ll not wait.”
Fortunately, there were four other helpers besides us, and after many false starts and much noisy commentary from the restive cows, we got a handle on the situation, so to speak, and filled our pails with milk. Balancing on a three-legged milking stool was a feat I was not very good at, but I managed when I saw the farm boys balancing on one-legged ones. Everyone - except the cows, of course - had a good laugh over our efforts.
After all the chores were finished, we enjoyed a parting cup of tea and thick slices of bread and marmalade. We packed up the Rover, settled Pup into the back, and left the farm with fond memories and Mr. Fielding’s surprising compliment ringing in our ears.
“You’ll both make fine farmers’ wives some day,” he had assured us as we bid the couple farewell.
“Yeah, when pigs fly,” I said, once we had rolled up our windows and driven the length of the lane to the paved road.
“Could be something to fall back on,” Kim said, “if the current arrangement doesn’t work out.”
I gave her ribs a poke. “Nice try, partner. But I’m in this for the long haul.”
“Speaking of long haul, where to now?”
I consulted the map. “Just head south for a bit until I sort out these brochures.”
“Don’t take too long. Wales isn’t that big a place.”
*
“Wasn’t that dairy farm a real trip?” I asked after several kilometers of uneventful driving.
She shook her head, grinning. “I’m never going to forget that place.”
“Oh, sweetie. Were the cows too much for you?”
“No, the cows were a snap. It was that couple next to us. They must have been at it all night long.”
“Maybe they were on their honeymoon.”
We laughed and headed toward the coast and Caernarfon to the creameries and cheddar cheese making.
“You know what milking those cows reminded me of?” I asked Kim, as we drove through patches of sunlight and shade. The Rover’s leather seats gave off a fragrant oily scent from the interior’s increasing warmth.
She grinned. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“Nothing bad. I was nervous at first because I didn’t know how the cow’s teat would feel, and if I could get the milk to come out.”
“And we had to make sure our hands were warm so the cows would be comfortable.”
I laughed. “Yeah, that, too. Anyway, it felt like the last time we gave Pup a bath, and my rubber glove got a leak in it. Do you remember that?”
“Sure, you squirted me with soapy water.”
“Yes, but before that the glove filled up with water, and it was smooth and firm. Just like those cow teats.”
“At least you didn’t squirt me with milk. It took us long enough to fill our pails, without clowning around.”
“I wasn’t about to do anything like that.” I picked up a travel brochure and flipped through the pages. “Here we go. This lovely tearoom will cheer you up.” I shoved the page under her nose. “And for dessert, there’s Cadwalader’s ice cream, the best in Wales.”
“How do you know it’s the best in Wales?”
“Says so right here in the pamphlet.”
She laughed. “Ask a stupid question…”
“We’ll just check it out for ourselves. I’ve got a whole stack of interesting brochures. We’re going to have to make several trips out into the countryside while we’re working on this Morrison project.” I pointed to a stone fortress looming out of the cloudy mist. “That, for instance, is a castle that Edward the First established in 1283, after his armies had defeated the princes of North Wales. The guidebook says there were numerous revolts against English rule here, and that the place became one of Cromwell’s strongholds.”
Kim pondered that information. “I have to admit, it’s impressive.”
I flipped a page in the book. “They have tours daily, but it could take hours to wander through it and see all the arrow slits and such.”
“Let’s wait for a sunnier day.” She guided the Rover around the traffic circle, or roundabout, as it was called in Wales. “I’m getting hungry right now.”
I smiled at her. “No problem. There are all sorts of dairy products to sample.”
“Okay,” she said, grinning. “Give me directions, but leave out milk. I’ve seen enough of that for the time being.”
*
We were so full of sharp cheddar cheese and chocolate ice cream sundaes that we decided to skip lunch and drive through to Llandudno. The Rover now smelled of delicious food items as well as warm leather and slightly damp dog. We opened more windows.
Kim tugged on her seatbelt and twisted her head to look between the headrests and out the back window. “I can’t explain it, but I feel like we’re being watched. When we came out of the ice cream shop, I could swear someone took our picture. And now I wonder whether someone’s following us.”
“Hey, it was probably a tourist. Look around you. There are lots of people visiting these quaint little villages, doing just what we’re doing. Maybe someone noticed Pup and took a picture of him.”
“Pup?”
“Yeah. You know, maybe they thought he was a full-blooded wolf, or something.”
Pup shoved his head between our bucket seats and huffed.
“I guess he doesn’t think much of that possibility,” Kim said, shrugging. “Anyway, I don’t see anybody with a camera pointed at us now.”
She gave Pup a pat on the head and started the Rover. As we navigated the narrow, winding lanes, I kept looking to the sky for signs of the sun. “There isn’t going to be any sunshine today. We’re just lucky the rain let up.”
My remark was followed by a moody silence that mimicked the weather. “I was hoping we could get a good glimpse of Mount Snowdon, maybe get to climb it.” I sighed and folded my arms. “We’ll just have to come back on a brighter day.”
“You don’t want to try it today?”
“The books all say not to attempt it in bad weather. If those clouds hang around all day, it will only get worse. There will be too much fog and probably more rain.”
“Cheer up.” Kim gave my arm a squeeze. “We’ll do it another time. We’re almost to Llandudno, anyway.”
It was late afternoon when we pulled into the parking lot for the Martins Hotel and Restaurant. Once again, we were too shabby, although they didn’t come right out and refuse to seat us. We took one look at the patrons in the dining area and rejected ourselves. I managed to snag a menu as a souvenir of our brief visit, however.
We decided to find another place and got back on the road. After a while, Kim’s attention focused on the rearview mirror.
“What is it? More bad guys?” I asked, teasing her.
“I know you’ll think I’m paranoid, but there’s been a blue car behind us for several miles.”
I turned to peer over my seat, but Kim grabbed my wrist. “Don’t look.”
“Is the car that close?”
She hesitated. “I guess not, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Geez, you sure are jumpy. This is so unlike you.”
“It’s probably nothing. Ever since we left the Superstitions, my imagination has been working overtime. And don’t ask me to explain why that is, I just don’t know.”
A few raindrops pelted the windshield. “Great,” I muttered. “Just what we need. More rain.”
Kim rubbed my thigh. “Look, sweetie, let’s head back toward The Royal Lion. Our last stop is the brewery, anyway, right?”
“That’s right.” I consulted the map. “Take the A470. It’s the Dolgellau Bypass. I’ll help you find the turn off to the Bragdy Cambrian Brewery.”
After we made the turn, she breathed a sigh of relief. “The blue car went on by.”
“There, you see. No spies out to get us this time.”
The rain intensified, drumming steadily on the roof and chilling the car’s interior. “I’ve got to close these windows a bit,” I said. “Can you get the ones in back from your control panel?”
Kim looked at her left-side armrest and pushed a few buttons. “All done. You’d better turn on the fan, though. It’s starting to get steamy in here.”
I adjusted the controls, but our visibility was reduced to two front patches and a rear window section. I slid an anxious glance in Kim’s direction. “Can you see well enough?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Try the A/C for a few minutes. The defroster’s making it too warm.”
I pushed more buttons. “Any better?”
“Yeah. I think the rain’s letting up now, anyway.”
I relaxed into my seat and read the menu from Martins.
“What?” Kim asked, after a few minutes.
“What, what?”
“You keep giggling and murmuring under your breath.”
I pointed to the menu. “I can’t help it. You won’t believe the meal we could have had.”
“Please, don’t tell me.”
“Oh, I must. ‘Fillets of wild Conwy salmon on a couch of sorrel and laver bread, pursued by shameless concoctions of cream and chocolate, exotic fruits, and enchantments of pastry.’”
We were giggling so hard that Kim had to pull off the road and take some deep breaths. “Do they give prizes for that kind of writing?”
“I’ll bet it has something to do with those Taste of Wales banners we’ve seen - the red dragon on the black circle with a white background. Each village is trying to outdo the others for tourists’ money.”
The Rover’s wipers made monotonous sweeps across the windshield as the rain continued. We parked close to the entrance to the new brewery, avoided several puddles, and took a quick tour, sampling a pint of their ale and buying a few bottles for later on. Feeling somewhat mellow from the beer and too little food, we stopped at a fish and chip shop for a “takeaway” order.
“Home, sweet home!” Kim called, as we rolled into the car park at the inn. We unpacked the Rover and grabbed everything. “Race you upstairs.”
Once out of the rain, in the privacy of our room, we peeled off our wet clothing and slipped into our robes.
“I’ll get a fire started in the hearth, if you’ll feed Pup.” Kim bent to stuff kindling into a pile and pulled a long match from the stone mantel.
I took a towel and tried to rub our pet. He shook himself first, sprinkling me with moist droplets.
“Pup! Geez, I’m trying to help you here. Now stand still while I wipe you down.”
He finally rolled onto his back, exposing his belly.
“Ah, now you catch on. Now that I smell like wet pooch.” I tickled his tummy, and he whimpered. “There you go. All dry. Want some dinner, sweetie?”
He rolled over and sat up.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He gave me a tiny yelp. I filled his bowl with dry food and broke off a piece offish fillet, making sure there were no bones. Then I filled his water dish from the bathroom sink. Remembering the day I had first met him, I wondered how I could have been so afraid of this pussycat in wolfs clothing.
Kim finished with the fire and pulled pillows and a blanket from the bed, so we could lie near the warmth of the fireplace while we ate.
“Oh, it looks so cozy.” I washed my hands and joined her on the blanket, pausing to wipe damp bangs out of my eyes. “Let’s see what we have here.” I unwrapped our sumptuous, though now tepid, meal and licked the grease from my fingers. Kim was stretched out beside me, her eyes closed.
“This is more like it,” she said.
I slid my fingers between the folds of her robe and rubbed her stomach, leaving the robe open when I withdrew my hand.
She smiled. “Mmm. Are you going to feed me, or just tease me?”
I broke off a piece of our main course and placed it on her bare skin. She opened one eye, but didn’t say an
ything.
“Fillet of nondescript white fish on a couch of Arizona sunbaked abdomen,” I said.
Kim snickered.
I added a handful of greasy chips to the indentation of her navel.
She opened both eyes and giggled.
“Golden, lard-fried slabs of potato, delicately nestled in an enclave of belly button.” I was laughing hard now.
“Stop!” Kim’s stomach shook. She picked up the fish and chips and ate her meal with slow, deliberate movements, smacking her lips. “Yum.”
I tried to snatch a piece of her fish, but she slapped it out of my hand, and it fell down the front of my robe. “Darn it. Where did that pesky thing go?” I untied my belt to look for it.
Kim rolled to one side. I heard paper crackling.
“What are you doing?” I asked, climbing over her to get a better look.
She broke pieces of something and wrestled me onto my back. I could smell chocolate. “Are those Halo bars? They’re delicious, and I love them, but I’m not sure - ”
Tiny chunks fell onto my breasts and belly. It tickled. Kim started licking up the pieces. Now, I was almost hysterical. Grinning, she said, “Pursued by shameless fragments of chocolate.”
“Stop! Enough ‘pursuing.’ It tickles too much.”
“What about the exotic fruits?” Kim asked, after licking most of the chocolate from my body.
“Hold on… just one minute.” I crawled, still laughing, to our souvenir purchases, opened a jar of strawberry preserves, and smeared a handful over her breasts. She giggled.
Now, it was my turn to sample the fruits of my labor, so to speak. “Yum. They make a mighty fine fruit spread at Portmeirion.”
“Hey, I like strawberry, too.” Kim pouted.
I held out the jar and was soon plastered in jam. We took childish delight in cleaning each other up. Then, yawning, we banked the fire, took a bath, and climbed into bed.
Kim sighed as we lay holding each other in the dark. “A most delightful day.”
“We missed the cream and enchantments of pastry,” I said, trying to sound forlorn.
“Another time, sweetheart. Another time.”
I nuzzled the hollow of her neck, kissing and licking until she moaned. “Can I be your little tart?” I whispered.
