50 Bales of Hay

by James Perch

  “I’ll try and keep up with you,” I answered, and started some exaggerated jogging on the spot and stretching.

  “I’ll go easy on you today,” she laughed.

  “OK. How far do you normally go?”

  “We’ll see, shall we?”

  “Right then! I guess I should slip into something more suitable then? I’ll put some shorts on and my trainers. Excuse me a sec.”

  I quickly got into my jogging gear, grabbed a key and motioned towards the door.

  “Come on then,” I said. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “I’ll set the pace,” Elaine suggested, starting into an easy jog. “I’ll take it easy on you to begin with, then I want to see you sweat.”

  “I can guarantee that when we’ve finished, I’ll be dripping. I’m starting to sweat just thinking about having a run.”

  After a few minutes we decided to speed up a little. We followed the perimeter of the park, jogging past others going in the opposite direction. Nobody seemed to be conversing, just stuck in their own little worlds. Everyone was wearing earphones attached to a Walkman or a radio. I guessed their music set the pace, with every footfall in a rhythmic pattern. I glanced over at Elaine. She had a huge grin on her face.

  “I would ask you why you have such a smile on your face, but I’m conserving breath,” I gasped.

  “It’s just a wonderful day,” she answered, “and I’m envisioning easily beating you back to yours.”

  “Oh right,” I said, taking the challenge. “You’re on!”

  We picked up the pace just a notch, watching each other and wondering who’d make the first move for a sprint finish. Without any warning, Elaine darted between two bushes, still running. I kept going, as I only had a corner to run around and I was home. As I turned that corner, Elaine emerged between another set of bushes, racing for the front door. I sprinted to keep up but she was too far ahead. I put on a final burst of speed, but she was halfway up the path. I slowed down my pace and we finally came together, collapsing in a perspiring heap on the floor, breathing heavily.

  When she was able to talk again, Elaine panted, “I told you that I’d beat you.”

  “I let you come first,” I conceded.

  “Aren’t you the gent?” she replied.

  “Aren’t you a cheat?” I answered back. “Do you often take short cuts?”

  “Only to get what I want,” she said, narrowing her eyes and then laughing. She stopped suddenly. “It’s been ages since Jez and I did anything really fun. I sometimes think we’re just going through the motions.”

  “Then why stay with him?” I asked seriously

  “I think it’s just habit now. We’re getting on OK.”

  My mind was in turmoil. Seconds earlier my libido was raging away. I felt like pinning her to the door and kissing her passionately. At the mention of Jez though, my ardour was dampened and I was brought back down to Earth with a jolt. I unlocked the front door and led the way to the living room.

  “Can I get you a drink?” I asked, steering the subject away from anything to bring the mood down.

  “Sure,” she replied. “Just a glass of water, please.”

  “Have you eaten?” I asked, keen to spend longer in her company.

  “Not yet.”

  “Fancy a full English? Bacon, sausage, beans, tomato, fried bread?”

  “Yum,” she said. “I’m starting to drool.”

  “I’m missing something…Eggs?”

  She half closed her eyes and sank back into the sofa, crossing her legs. “Mmmm! Love eggs,” she whispered with a dreamy look. “OK, you’ve talked me into it. Have you got enough to spare?”

  “We have for now. I can stock up when I go shopping. How about fried bread?”

  “No thanks. I prefer plain old toast. My mum likes dripping on toast, but I can’t say I like the sound of that. It conjures up images.”

  “So…can I tempt you with a nob? Butter? margarine?”

  “Oh, I like butter,” she said, licking her lips. “Smear it all over, if you would.”

  I thrust my knife into the tub of butter and scooped a big dollop up.

  “Oh dear,” I said. “There’s far too much butter here. I’d better make sure I’m more sparing. You’d choke on this nob.”

  I saw her do a double take, so I followed her gaze.

  “What’s that big bulbous red thing over there?” she asked.

  “Oh you mean my red nose? It’s been months since Red Nose Day, so I snipped it off the front of my car. “

  “Oh yes I see now. I bought the single.”

  “Right Said Fred? Stick It Out?”

  “Yes it’s as camp as Christmas but it’s kind of catchy for a charity single. ‘From the top of a tall erection!’”, she sang with a giggle. “I like their other one as well,” she added, bursting into song again. “‘I’m too sexy for my cat. Poor pussy, poor pussy cat’. Talking of cats, you should see my Fluff, if she’s not off somewhere exploring. She’s a gorgeous tortoiseshell who loves a big fuss. She hates being locked inside. It doesn’t matter what the weather’s doing, she’ll come and go as she pleases.”

  “I’d love to meet her,” I said genuinely. “We had a feral cat wandering around the farm. I think it was scrounging for rodents. It wasn’t a big fan of fusses, but it wasn’t scared of us either. I’ve not seen it for a while.”

  “Our little Fluff is a rescue cat. We adopted her from the local shelter. She started off timid, but she’s ruling the house now, the little madam.”

  “That’s always the way with cats,” I said. “They know when they have good owners. They love their independence, but you know that before long they’ll be curled up on your lap snoozing away.”

  While I continued preparing breakfast for us both, we chatted about her sister’s upcoming wedding. She was really looking forward to it. The groom sounded like a dependable guy and it was obvious Elaine approved. I heard all about the flowers, the overall theme of the wedding, family politics and the impressive record collection that the DJ had lined up.

  “You’ll have to tell me all about it,” I said, as we finished up eating.

  “Oh I will. I can’t wait to be a part of it. Yes anyway…Thanks for the race and for breakfast,” she said. “I must get back home now, though. I need to have a quick shower and then help my sister with her table plan. Only a few days to go and she’ll be Mrs. Oliver.”

  “If the weather stays like this they’ll have a great day,” I said, blinking at the sun streaming in through the window.

  “Oh they were made for each other. They’d be happy together stuck in a shed in a snowstorm. Some lucky people just make that connection.” She opened her mouth as if to add something, but closed it again, before taking a big inhale and declaring that she was off again. This time she left.

  Picnic

  For the rest of the week the weather remained gorgeous. During the evenings I took bar work to earn a bit of cash, then I was free to do as I pleased during the day. I went over to see Jez a few times, but more often than not, he’d be doing errands for his dad. Elaine often turned up by herself as well, occasionally bringing Briony to play in the pool. I had an inkling that Jez wasn’t a big fan of children. He’d make excuses rather than spend time with Elaine when she was accompanied by her niece, but I thought she was sweet—not the brat that Jez made her out to be. On one particular day, Briony had just finished splashing about, when she came to join me and Elaine in the shade.

  “Is this the one you told Mum about?” Briony asked innocently. “Do you love him? Is he your new boyfriend?”

  Elaine flushed red and pretended to pick off some flotsam from Briony’s swimming costume.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she protested.

  I smiled and tried to catch her eye.

  “I think he looks nice,” Briony continued. She turned to me and said, “We’re going for a picnic tomorrow, can you come with us?”

  “Oh that’s up to Auntie
Elaine,” I answered. “I don’t want to turn up and be in the way.”

  “There’s only two of us going tomorrow. You can help carry the things. Say you can come. Please!” she pleaded.

  I looked at Elaine and she looked at Briony.

  “We can’t be out too long. There are still a few things to prepare for the wedding, but OK” she conceded with a shrug. “It’ll save me struggling.”

  Jez’s mum wandered into the garden all smiles. “Hey guys!”

  It happened again. At the mention of hay, my brain transported me back to memories of being in the company of my dad. It was frustrating having cosy memories of Elaine shoved aside, but I wasn’t going anywhere in my current state. I let the memory play out. On this occasion he was standing outside of his study, turning the key and placing it into his pocket. I was a young boy again, whizzing around boisterously. I stopped to quiz him about his mysterious room. I wanted to know why I was never allowed inside.

  “It’s just a few personal things, son. It’s somewhere I like to disappear to, when I need to be alone. Your mum will always be with me if I have this little sanctuary.”

  “I wish I had been old enough to have memories of her. Can you show me some of her photos again?”

  My dad led me into the living room and handed me his photo album; he always handled it with such reverence. I turned the pages slowly, lifting each one with the greatest of care. I knew my dad cherished this book, and I always respected that. Each photo of my mum pictured her smiling or laughing. She was a joy to behold. As a youngster, my dad wouldn’t let me hold the book myself and turned the pages for me. As I matured, the more he trusted me to look after it. Depending on how fragile he was feeling, he might sit with me and talk me through old times. Here and there a few pictures were missing, but I was assured that the pictures were long gone, or lost in a pile of paperwork that needed sorting out. My absolute favourite picture was of my mum with Daisy in the field. She was happy enough to have Mum stand by her, and had stopped chewing the cud long enough for her to stick her tongue out and lick Mum’s cheek. Dad had caught the moment perfectly. Mum’s eyes were shut and she was just about to recoil when he took the photo of her laughing. More often than not, I’d be left alone when his memories started to upset him. I learnt to give him space, leaving the closed photo album in the centre of the table for Dad to put away safely in his study later.

  My thoughts returned to the picnic. I’d experienced Elaine’s food preparation skills previously and was not disappointed. As she unpacked the picnic, I got just the briefest glimpse of her meaty pie. I was tempted to stick in my thumb like Little Jack Horner, but it was only a small one and she didn’t fancy sharing it. She certainly knew how to put on a spread. I offered to contribute some of my very own special cheese to the picnic but she declined. She didn’t want to appear rude, but she didn’t like the taste of mine. Not to be outdone, I sneakily brought along Cadbury’s Creme Eggs for the three of us. Briony ate hers daintily, taking small bites and enjoying each and every one. I removed the wrapping from mine and crammed the whole thing into my mouth while the girls weren’t looking. When Elaine eventually asked me how I ate mine, I turned to face her and revealed the egg, still whole, between my teeth. She laughed incredulously and poked Briony to share the scene.

  “I couldn’t manage to fit a whole one in,” she said. “My mouth isn’t big enough.” She made a serious effort to copy my feat twice, but stopped when she almost gagged.

  “Go on,” I urged, “take it all!”

  “I’m not a big fan of all that goo in my mouth at once,” she admitted and started to eat hers properly.

  One part of the picnic was still, up until now anyway, untouched. As healthy as it was, fruit didn’t always have the same appeal as a pie or Creme Eggs. On this occasion I could eat a horse, so I was happy to chomp away on anything and everything.

  “Are you having some fruit?” I asked.

  “I think I’ll have an apple later,” Elaine said.

  “Can I have a clementine, please?” answered Briony.

  I picked up the clementine and passed it to Briony, who was watching a man playing with a Labrador.

  “Thank you,” she said with a smile.

  I looked in the container of fruit and saw a single cherry under the apples. I’d not eaten one in ages and this one looked particularly shiny and appetising.

  “Can I have your cherry?” I asked Elaine.

  She looked taken aback for a second and nodded. “No-one has asked me before,” she replied. “You’re welcome to it, though.”

  I took her cherry and it was good. It was much better than I was expecting. Meanwhile, the man with the dog was having no luck in exhausting his pooch. Briony had been captivated by the scene for the last few minutes, oblivious to most of our chatter, as she watched it jumping around clumsily and returning a Frisbee to its owner. After about ten minutes, to keep some variation in their playtime, the man started to try to trick the unsuspecting animal into thinking that he’d already thrown the Frisbee. When he jerked his arm, he’d hide the toy behind his back to tease the gullible Labrador. Two attempts at this were enough to confuse the pooch. By this time, the man and his dog were closer to us. On the third attempt, the dog’s eyes darted from where it thought the Frisbee had been thrown from, to where it presumed it must have flown to. Unfortunately, the Frisbee was the same colour as Briony’s plate and the dog bounded over, much to Briony’s surprise, and snatched her plate, spilling a bottle of diluted squash everywhere. He happily returned to his owner with the plate in his mouth. The owner was mortified but I told him not to worry. Nothing was going to ruin this day out together.

  “Shall we go to the safari park instead for a few hours?” I suggested.

  Briony’s eyes lit up and she grinned. “Yes please!” she said. Elaine looked concerned.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, “it’s my treat. It’s either that or an alternative of your choice.”

  She didn’t want to disappoint her niece, so she gave in and agreed to my suggestion. We packed up the remaining edible food and set off for the car. We didn’t have far to go and I wasn’t expecting heavy traffic, so I was easily able to remain jovial. Within twenty minutes we were at the entrance and queuing up behind other cars. We ground to a halt when we reached a humped zebra crossing. Elaine didn’t know where to look, but eventually we were able to continue. We stopped in the monkey enclosure, where the park warden was just feeding the chimpanzees.

  “Is there any chance that we could get our photograph taken with a chimpanzee so we can frame it later?” I asked him.

  “Mounted?” asked the warden.

  “I reckon that just holding hands will be fine,” I answered.

  We saw all sorts of animals. Briony was pointing at everything and looking in every direction, trying to take in all the sights. Eventually we arrived at the gift shop and sauntered through the exit. I’d had a great day and really didn’t want it to end.

  “I really enjoyed myself today. Thank you, Jake.” Briony said, stifling a yawn. Elaine smiled at her.

  “Time to go home,” she said. “Your mum will be wondering where you’ve got to.”

  I drove from the park in silence with a hint of a grin on my face. Elaine gave my arm a prod and whispered, “Thank you.”

  “OK, no problem,” I whispered back.

  I arrived at Elaine’s house and opened the two passenger doors. Elaine fumbled for her keys whilst Briony slowly slid out of her seat. She ambled up the garden path and flopped against the wall by the front door.

  “I won’t be a sec,” Elaine called to her. “Do you fancy inviting me in for coffee at yours?”

  I knew it wouldn’t be any more than a coffee but my heart skipped a beat. I was expecting her to follow Briony in, not to invite herself to come back with me.

  “Sure,” I said as nonchalantly as I could.

  She pulled out her keys and trotted up the path. She knelt down by Briony and I could see her talking
—I couldn’t make out the words from this distance—then unlocked the door and watched her safely in. After that, she put her keys away, and walked back up the path. Neither of us spoke as I gunned the engine and drove back to my aunt’s, where I jumped out of the car and opened the door for Elaine. I think she almost expected a bit of chivalry now, and secretly liked being treated like a lady. I locked up and we walked through the garden. The hoe I had been using and left propped up against the shed had fallen over. Elaine stooped down and took hold of the tool with both hands.

  “I see you have a hoe down. Ho ho,” she said.

  “Yee-ha! I cried. “Take your partner by the hand, everybody dozy doe!” I linked arms with her and spun her around. She laughed and spun off towards the flowers. Turning to face me, she let her hands gently caress the tip of my peonies, absentmindedly running her index finger up and down the stalk. I gasped in dismay. I looked deep into her eyes and let my fingers part the tulips, coaxing the little bud to stand erect. She came towards me and put one hand up towards my face. She extended her finger and traced a line from my cheek to my lips, before dropping her hand by her side. She moved her other hand behind my neck, her eyes full of longing. I leaned forward to kiss her passionately and our lips met. We knew it was wrong but we couldn’t stop ourselves. The next thing I knew, she was pulling away from me.

  “I’m sorry. As much as I want to, I can’t do this to Jez,” she said and walked off, leaving me bewildered and wanting more.

  “OK, hold up! Wait a second,” I called after her. “Do you still need a hand at Ann Summers?”

  “Please,” she answered, “but only if it’s not going to be too weird between us.”

  “I shall remain cool and aloof,” I said jokily trying to stay upbeat, but probably failing miserably. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  My answer seemed to diffuse the situation and somehow bring our relationship back to a strained but platonic state. Back to square one.

  Private Shop

  I grabbed the Yellow Pages and scoured the directory for a mention of Ann Summers. After scouring the entries twice, I decided to check for similar entries with a local area code. The closest I could find was a private shop called Hans Sommers by the docks. I noted the address and grabbed my A-Z before driving over to pick up Elaine. When we arrived on the dock road we couldn’t miss the place. It wasn’t a shop, but more of a warehouse. The car park was relatively empty so I parked up and got out of the car, opening Elaine’s door for her. We found the entrance and were a little hesitant, to say the least. Above the door was a small black plaque with white lettering which proclaimed, “Proprietors: Ivan Tageddemov and Ivana Avitov”. We entered the store looking for inspiration. I wasn’t sure what to look for particularly, but was happy to offer whatever help I could. I entered first and Elaine cautiously peered in behind me.