‘You’re an old softie, that’s what you are.’ She smiled up at him, ‘And you’re right about our sons. They are different; I’ve always thought Joe took after you, and Frank is more in the nature of your father. He’ll see a lamb all caught up and rescue it, but it’s not the lamb he’s rescuing, it’s the money it’ll fetch at market.’
‘Well o’course! He’s a farmer, and that’s how any farmer would think, even though he’s not altogether conscious of it.’
‘I know that, but what I’m saying is, Joe would rescue the same lamb yes, but only because it pains him to see it caught up. The money it might bring at market wouldn’t even enter his head.’
Tom nodded. ‘Aye well, there yer have it. You see, our Frank has the same attitude as my own father, and there is nothing wrong with that! It shows he’s a hard-headed businessman. He sees everything in black and white, while Joe takes time to see the shades and the colours.’
‘Oh, and you don’t?’ She smiled knowingly.
‘Give over, woman. I’ve no time for all that!’
Embarrassed, he grabbed his newspaper and hid behind it. ‘I need some new specs,’ he grumbled. ‘The print on the pages gets smaller by the minute!’
Gently, Nancy drew the newspaper away. ‘You don’t fool me, Tom Arnold.’ She knew him like she knew herself.
Feigning anger, he wagged a finger. ‘Look! It’s hard enough to keep a family going if the crops are ruined or you lose an animal. Survival! That’s the thing, and don’t you be mekking any more of it!’
Snatching his newspaper he again buried his head in it. ‘Go on! Away to the window and watch for Joe!’
As she prepared to move away, he caught her by the arm. ‘I hope you know how much I love you, and how lucky I am to have yer,’ he declared stoutly.
‘Right, well just you remember that when you’re yelling at me.’
Her comment made him smile. ‘When have I ever yelled at you?’
‘Hmm. Have you got all day?’
Chuckling, he folded the newspaper and laid it on the arm of the chair,
A few minutes later, after returning from her disappointing vigil at the window, she came to sit beside him. ‘It’ll be so good to have our Joe home.’
Having settled herself into the chair, she sipped her lukewarm tea, while at the same time observing the state of the painted walls. ‘How long is it since these walls were painted?’ she asked.
‘Long time.’ Tom peeked over his newspaper. ‘Six or seven years…maybe more.’
Tom had to agree the place was looking the worse for wear, but he would never admit it.
‘Folks might think it all a bit jaded, that’s all I’m saying,’ Nancy pointed out.
‘What folks think is no concern of ours.’ Tom declared. ‘You need to remember, this place doesn’t belong to us. I’m sure that tight-fisted landlord won’t be shelling out money if he can help it, and we certainly can’t afford to redecorate. Not with the wedding coming up an’ all.’
‘Ah, well, not to worry, eh?’ Nancy was a sensible woman, and right now she had more important things on her mind. ‘Let’s just hope nobody comes back here after the celebration.’ She gave him a cheeky wink. ‘If they do, they’ll have to accept us as we are. As long as the wedding goes without a hitch, it doesn’t really matter.’
‘There won’t be any hitches,’ he promised cheerfully. ‘Not with you in charge, and half the village wanting to help.’
Nancy gave no reply to that, although she knew from experience that things could go so easily wrong. In her usual forthright manner, she had learned to take nothing for granted.
She proudly informed him, ‘Everything has been well organised. Flowers are arranged and paid for. The band is booked, and the suits for you and the boys are hanging in the closet; though Joe’s might need a tweak here and there, depending on whether he’s changed his shape since we last saw him.’
Tom was duly impressed. ‘Sounds to me like you’ve thought of everything.’
‘I hope so. I’ve gone over the menu for the meal, and now there’s just the wedding-cake. Seeing as I’m baking it, the cost is half what it would have been if I’d ordered one.’
She gave a little scowl. ‘It’s as well I’m doing the cake, because even Alice had to admit that her mother is a terrible cook. Apparently, she can’t even produce a proper Yorkshire pud!’
Tom chuckled. ‘There y’are y’see. It’s just as well you’re available then, isn’t it?’
In fact, Nancy felt well pleased with herself. ‘Mind you, Alice’s mother played her part in helping Alice choose the flowers. Though she wasn’t able to make Alice change her mind about having wild flowers in amongst the tulips and such. To be honest I reckon a mixture of colourful wild flowers will look absolutely gorgeous!’
There was one other thing. ‘In the end though Alice didn’t get much of a say in the wedding dress, she did manage to lose the idea of frills and bows like her mother wanted. Instead the dress will be sewn with daisies and forget-me-nots…all made out of silk and satin.’
Tom smiled in agreement. ‘Alice is a simple country girl at heart,’ he said softly. ‘She won’t have her head turned by expense and fancy, and I’m proud of that! If you ask me, she’ll walk down the aisle looking like a million dollars!’
Nancy’s thoughts had already turned again to her youngest son. ‘Everything is ready now.’ She glanced anxiously towards the window. ‘All we need is for Joe to show his face.’
Having had enough of the cold tea, she was quickly away, watching at the window again. ‘He’ll not show while you’re watching,’ Tom groaned. ‘Anyway, I thought you had umpteen jobs to get done?’
‘They can wait.’ She ran her finger over the smeared window. ‘Tom Arnold!’ Swinging round she confronted him. ‘You promised faithfully you would clean the windows, and they’ve not even been touched!’
‘Sorry, love. I’ll do it later.’ Shame-faced, he buried his head in his newspaper. ‘Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll get on with it…soon as I’ve chosen the winning horses.’
Minutes passed, and still there was no sign of Joe. ‘You’re right again,’ she muttered. ‘A watched kettle never boils.’
Just then she caught sight of Alice. ‘Oh, look!’ Pointing as though Tom could see from across the room, she told him, ‘There’s Alice. For a minute I thought it might be our Joe coming out of the barn.’
‘Give over, woman! If he is on his way back, he’d hardly make the barn his first stop, now would he?’
Returning to his newspaper, he blocked his ears to Nancy’s running commentary. ‘No doubt she’s off to collect the early apples. They’re keepers d’you see? If
