Abby Ch. 08

Abby had seen the valley for the first time in late March, when the weather could only suggest a vision of the summer to come, and the foliage was just a clue to the verdant picture of the valley in high summer. Now in early July, those promises were fulfilled. The trees of Huish Coppice swayed gently to a slight warm breeze, and raised and let fall their leaves like petticoats at a dance. The late afternoon Sun shone strongly on the meadows and cattle clustered gregariously in the deep shadows under the trees. Sheep lethargically grazed the higher pastures, as if even the ongoing task of eating was too strenuous an exercise in the heat. The air was so still that the droning of a tractor from much higher in the valley carried; heard, but not seen. Everything was as Abby remembered, yet different. She was a visitor no longer, now she felt as if she was coming home. The Combe Inn extended the same welcome, the door open, no one in attendance except the dog, lazing in front of a now unlit fire. Yet again, the dog, raised its head, gave that one thump of its tail, and resumed its leisurely dozing. Abby approached the Bar, and called. "Mary."

The response was immediate and Mary bustled in, obviously from the kitchen as she dusted flour from her hands. The welcome was most genuine; no one could fake the wide beam that split Mary's face. Wiping her hands on her apron, she rushed round through the door at the side of the bar, and flung her arms around Abby kissing her cheeks both sides. "Oh Abby, it's so nice to see you again, we have missed you. Jack will be delighted, as will Sam and Mavis and the others, not to mention Mr. James. He has asked if you would be coming back, you know. Now how long will you be staying? Your old room is ready for you, and we are happy to have you here as long as you want." As usual all this came out without Mary pausing for breath, and at the same time nodding her head.

Abby smiled back, as Mary's beam was contagious. "Mary, it's good to see you again, and if it's all right with you I shall be staying for some months."

Mary stopped short. "Some months?" she repeated, "why, what has happened? Have you lost your job, or something?"

Abby hastened to re-assure her. "No, nothing like that, in fact I have resigned, but I'll tell you all about that later. But is it all right to stay for a few months? If it's inconvenient, I could find somewhere in Paverton."

Mary shook her head brusquely. "Of course it's all right, you don't think I would have you going anywhere else, do you?" She sounded offended at the idea. "You stay as long as you want. Now where are your cases, in the car? I'll get Jack to bring them up for you. Let's have a nice cup of tea first, just you sit down, and I'll bring it through." She then called Jack, whose voice carried up from the bowels of the earth.

His footsteps sounding as he climbed up from the Cellar. "Abby!" His grin was as infectious as Mary's beaming smile. "It's really good to see you again; I won't shake hands, as I'm all dirty from the Cellar."

Mary interrupted him. "Never mind about that now, Jack; fetch Abby's cases from her car; and take them up will you."

Jack nodded. "I'll put the car round the back as well, The Grockles are about now, and some of them are none too careful about parking. Have you got the keys, Abby, or are they in the car?'

Abby gave him the keys. "The luggage is all in the Boot."

He nodded and went off to get her cases. Mary called after him. "Just you wash your hands first, Jack Elvesly." He waved his hand in acknowledgment.

Mary was going off to make the tea, but Abby forestalled her. "Mary, what or who is a Grockle."

Mary laughed. "A Grockle is a type of visitor. They charge around the country, never getting out of their car except to eat and drink something, or take a few photographs. They think the countryside is very pretty, but reckon that the farmer's new barn or silage tower shouldn't be allowed, as it spoils the view. The smells of the countryside offend them, Silage, Dung, and the like, and they get really upset if they get mud on their shoes. They don't spend money with us, but seem to think that our toilets are public facilities, then at the end of the day, they go back to the caravan they have hired for the week and eat the food they stocked up with from their local supermarket before they came. That's a Grockle." Mary thought a little and continued. "Mind, we don't get too many round here, the roads are not marked except on the most detailed of maps, and we don't have a McDonald's or KFC. But we get enough to do well out of Cream Teas most afternoons."

Whilst Mary was attending to the tea, Abby wondered if they thought that she was a Grockle, but then discounted the thought, after all, Mary was unlikely to have said anything uncomplimentary about grockles if she Abby, was one herself.

Mary bustled back with the tea tray. "Would you like to sit in here, or outside? The Sun will have gone off the front by now, and it will be quite pleasant."

Abby didn't need to think too much. "Outside please, Mary. Air conditioning in the car is very good, but you do get the feeling you are breathing stale air after a while." they sat at the bench table, which was, realised Abby, where the photo of her grandfather, grandmother, and mother had been taken. The bench would probably be a replacement, but the location remained the same.

She said so to Mary. "Yes, Love, it would have been here. Strange isn't it, how life has a habit of going full circle? Such a pity that your granddad never knew about you. Still, these things happen." Without taking breath, Mary launched into another conversation. "Now what's going on in your life?"

Abby took the breath that Mary hadn't. "Well, I resigned my job, for a start. I realised that although I had enjoyed it immensely and it paid well, very well, it wasn't going anywhere. Perhaps it was me, getting to an age when other things could be more important. Perhaps it was coming down here, and discovering the truth about my family. I don't really know. I suppose that I had just become dissatisfied. The catalyst was seeing my deputy being prepared for higher things, and knowing that I had gone as far as I could. So I left. I can manage for a while without worry, and I could not think of a better place to contemplate the future than right here."

Mary nodded. "Yes, there is no better place for you. Now you just relax, Abby, and enjoy your time here, get out now that the weathers fine, and get some colour into your cheeks. We'll put some good food inside you, and before too long you'll feel a different person." Abby groaned inwardly at the thought of the good food that Mary intended she should eat. She would really have to be careful or else her weight would soar.

Jack came out and took a seat beside Mary. "Luggage all sorted, the car is round the back," he grinned at Abby, "really nice to see you again, I expect that Mary will have given you the third degree by now, and she'll tell me what she thinks I should know later. Did you have a good journey down? I would imagine that car goes well and comfortable too. Bit different to my old Land Rover eh?" Abby relaxed; enjoying the tea and the gossip that Mary could now regale her with. Some of the people mentioned were unknown to her, and Mary was careful to explain their links to people that Abby did know. From time to time cars would pass by and a hand would wave indicating a local, others would slow and stare, and then drive on, with Mary and Jack murmuring under their breath, but simultaneously 'Grockle.' Abby soon saw for herself the giveaway behaviour and could identify them almost as swiftly as Jack and Mary.

The afternoon slipped away easily in this relaxing way, until Mary stood. "I must get on, what would you like for your dinner this evening, Abby?"

Abby was happy to eat whatever Mary produced, but made the stipulation. "Small portions please, Mary. I cannot manage the amount you used to put on my plate."

Jack grinned. "That's all right then, there'll be more for me."

Mary scolded him. "Just typical of a man, always thinking of his stomach. You'll have what you're given, and be grateful." Mary collected the cups and saucers and piled the tray to take back. "See you about seven, is that O.K.?"

Abby nodded. "Yes, that will be fine. I'll go and unpack."

Abby took a lot longer to unpack and put away her clothes, than she had on her previous visit, and was thankful for the large amount of hanging space the wardrobe provided. At times she was surprised with some of the things she had brought, which included four quite dressy suits, and blouses, now she wondered why she had bothered with them, they would never be required downstairs, it was not that sort of a place, and she couldn't imagine being asked out to a smart restaurant; or was there such a possibility? Putting these thoughts on one side, she completed the unpacking, with some small ornaments and a photograph of her mother in a little silver frame, together with the photo of her grandfather, grandmother and mother taken outside the Combe Inn. This had been restored by one of the staff at the bank, who had the necessary software on his computer. She was after all going to be here for some months, and may as well make the room a little more homely with these small touches.

One of the first things she had done was open the windows fully, allowing the breeze to blow gently through the room, now she leaned out and drank in the air and the view. If she had previously had any doubts about what she was doing they were now dispelled. The calm of the valley soothed and brought her peace. If in her mind the question why she was here had existed; now it was answered. This is where her family had lived, and however tenuous the connection it was a root to hold on to, when before she had been rootless. She felt at home here, a feeling she had never really enjoyed before. If she was to embark on a different direction in life, then here was the place to start that journey, because this was the base to which she could always return.

That feeling was reinforced during the evening, as the regulars who had seen her before, made plain their delight at her return. Dressed as she was in denims and a sweatshirt, she no longer felt that she had to stay in the seclusion of the lounge, and after finishing a superb casserole joined the throng in the bar, enjoying and joining their chat and jokes, some of which were at the expense of someone who was standing next to them; and replying time after time, to the enquiries as to her health and how long she would stay. It was always gratifying when they expressed pleasure at her extended stay. At around nine o' clock the door opened and over the head of the crowd she noticed Sam entering. If she hadn't seen him she would have been alerted anyway, as a voice called out. "Hey up, Sam. Your lady friend is back, oh hello Mavis, I didn't see you there"

Laughter came from all sides, and Sam's face turned bright red, but it didn't matter, as Mavis using her elbows to good effect; burrowed her way through all the drinkers, and threw her arms around Abby "Love, it's so good to see you back here. Sam's missed you; he's had to put up with the conversation of these Turnip Heads here. How are you? Let's go and sit down, then we can talk in relative peace." Mavis as ever took charge, and led Abby round to the Lounge. Mary joined them very shortly, bringing with her a Spritzer for Abby, a Port and Lemon for Mavis, and her own drink, which looked like a Gin and Tonic. Once they were all seated comfortably, Abby had to go over the whole thing again. During the explanation she noticed Mavis looking shrewdly at her, and she stopped almost in mid-sentence. In the silence that ensued, Mavis said. "You must have done all right for yourself, I mean if you can live off your capital for a while."

Abby wasn't surprised. It was obvious that Mavis had a head on her shoulders. Rather than going into the detail, Abby replied casually. "I can manage for a while, but I shall have to find something to do."

Mavis nodded. "Well there's not much around here, so I suppose you will have to leave us again."

Mary was indignant at the thought. "Oh Mavis, Abby's only just come back, and you're talking about her going away again. Let the Love have some peace and quiet for a while." At that point Sam came to join them, for which Abby was thankful. He had taken the edge off his thirst at the bar, and brought a tray with a repeat order for his wife, Mary, and Abby. The smile that Abby gave him brought the blush to his face once again, and he sat down uncertainly, wondering what he had interrupted.

Abby took his hand in hers. "It's so nice to see you again, Sam." He blushed and looked quickly at his wife, who was laughing softly.

"You silly old Beggar," she said, "you never used to blush like that when you took me into that haystack, all those years ago, did you?"

Sam grinned. "If my memory serves me right, it was you that did the leading."

Mavis chuckled unashamedly. "Well if I hadn't, we would never have got together, you being so backward in coming forward, eh?" She leaned forward. "You know Abby, he must have taken all of six months to pluck up the courage to ask me out, and even then I had to stand there and tell him that if he didn't ask right then, his chance would have gone forever. I wasn't going to wait around." They all joined in the laughter. Any difficulty that Abby may have felt over the questioning of her finances was dissolved, and the conversation moved on light heartedly from there.

Abby was tired after her journey, and went to bed shortly after ten o' clock. Just after she had gone, Mary turned on Mavis. "You had no right to talk about how much money she had, just like that, you could see she was embarrassed."

Mavis was unrepentant. "I don't think she was upset, but I'll tell you one thing, Mary, that girl is very well off. If you read the papers, you'll know that what she was doing was very well paid, and did you cotton on, when she said she had a flat in Kensington. Well if I'm to believe what I read, then property like that is worth hundreds of thousands."

Mary was aghast. "How much?"

Mavis repeated. "Hundreds of thousands."

Mary carried her Gin and Tonic to her lips with a trembling hand. "Good grief, I always felt that she was comfortable, you know, from the little things that she has said, but never that well off."

Mavis smiled with satisfaction. "And you know the nicest thing about her, is that she doesn't flaunt it. I don't want to see her go; she should stay here in this valley; it will do us all good here in Combe to have a proper family up the hill. I know just the right situation for her, and you know what I mean."

Mary looked at her sagely. "You might be running ahead of things there; but yes I think I do know what you mean. Mind he did come in and ask about her, you know, if she was coming back."

Mavis was not aware of this, and her lips pursed as she nodded her head. "That's interesting. Oh well, time will tell, time will tell."

It was just after six o' clock when Abby awoke, an hour which had hitherto been a stranger to her. The light streaming through the thin curtains had brightened the room, which she supposed was the reason for waking at that hour. Pulling back the curtains she greeted the day. The sun had begun warming the air, which seemed to vibrate softly with the gathering warmth; soon the shadows under the trees would deepen as the full strength of the light became real. In the meadows the cattle and sheep were busy cropping the lush grass, preparing for the midday sun when it would be too hot even for them. Abby felt herself totally refreshed from the night's sleep and despite the early hour was ready for the day. She put the kettle on to make tea, and cleaned her teeth whilst waiting for it to boil. She stood and drank at the window, something she had done often on her previous visit, as habits go she thought, this was one hard to beat, the pleasure of the tea, and the view she enjoyed lifted her spirits as little else would.

She showered and dressed in Jeans and a T-shirt, a pair of comfortable Moccasins on her feet, and went downstairs. Mary was surprised to see her so early. "What about you, then," she cried, "bit early for you isn't it?"

"I slept well," Abby laughed, " and when I woke up, it seemed a pity to waste any of the day."

Mary agreed. "Well it's going to be a hot one, if you are out in the middle of the day, wear a hat; you have got one haven't you?" Abby assured Mary that she did indeed have a hat, and also said that she was going for a little walk before breakfast. This reminded Mary that she had to make sure that Abby was well fed, and the consequent negotiation was settled on Scrambled Egg, two rashers, and just one round of toast. Mary was not at all pleased with the result of this discussion believing that two eggs, three rashers, and two rounds of toast was the very minimum for anyone before venturing out for the day.

Leaving the Inn Abby turned right to stroll down towards the river bridge. To her left she could see the Church. It sat on a higher level to the road, and because of this appeared at first to be quite a large structure. However as her perspective changed she could see that it was really a very simple construction, a Chapel with grandiose ideas. The Nave was not long, and the tower squat, both sitting firmly on their mound, as grey as the rock which was the foundation. Scattered about the churchyard were numerous simple gravestones, some straight like soldiers, others tilting at varying angles. From the road Abby could not read names, but reckoned that even close up it would be difficult as almost every stone was decorated with the greens and browns of Lichen, the haphazard patterns creating a look somewhat similar to the photos of the world taken from a satellite. 'I bet there's a few Comberfords in there.' The thought sprang into her mind unbidden, and she mused upon this almost obsession of hers with the Comberford family. Was it just because of the slighting of her grandfather, or because of their influence and shaping of the valley? It was ridiculous really, they had done nothing more than many others, looking after themselves and their interests. Or was it because she liked James Comberford, and somehow thought she should not. He had that light self-denigrating sense of humour that appealed to Abby, and she had to admit to herself that she wanted to meet him again. Putting these thoughts out of her mind she walked on.

Further down the road she noticed another lane leading around and up the hill behind the Church. Through the variegated greens of the foliage she caught an occasional glimpse of a much larger house. It had to be at the highest level of building in the village, and without thinking she knew instinctively who owned that house. She decided to ignore this, she wouldn't be seen to be peeking at the place, and determinedly she walked past the lane and continued round a bend towards the river. The road dropped away now, and to her left was the small estate of Council houses that could just be seen from the Inn. There were only half a dozen of them, and to her eye looked as if the tenants cared for them. The gardens were neat and tidy, and if there was a child's bike lying in the path of a couple what did it matter. That didn't compare at all with the conditions of some around London, whose gardens were to all intents and purposes a car-breakers yard. She wondered at Mary's attitude, and thought it was probably the same attitude that so many people would feel, agreeing that such places had to be built, but not in our village thank you.

The road went downhill out of the village, and crossed the meadows slightly raised above the level, and then gently rising to the bridge spanning the river. She stopped on the bridge and gave in to the imperative that upon crossing a river bridge that you had to lean over the parapet and gaze into the water. This was not a major river, it appeared to flow and ripple gently over the stones lining its bed, a quiet chuckling its only comment on life. The water was so clear that Abby could see the weeds clinging to the larger rocks and streaming out with the flow. As her eyes focussed better she realised that these were not all in fact weeds, but fish, dappled fresh water Trout, who rather than swim energetically all day, just did enough to stay in one place and let the river bring the food to them. How sensible.