Abby Ch. 12

James arrived at twenty to eight the next morning, riding Cassie with Jason on a leading rein. As Abby was still eating breakfast, Mary asked James if he would like some breakfast as well. He eagerly accepted, walked the horses to the back of the pub, and looped the reins around the back of one of the bench's. He joined Abby at her table, immediately pinching a piece of buttered toast.

"Don't you eat breakfast?" she inquired.

James nodded, with his mouth full, he eventually managed to say. "Yes, but that was some time ago."

Abby looked at him in amazement. "Some time ago? What time do you get up for God's sake?"

"Usually half-past five, things to do you know."

Abby shook her head. "And there was I thinking you just lazed the day away." At that moment Mary arrived with a plate full of crisp Bacon rashers, fried eggs, and tomatoes.

"Good grief, that was quick, Mary." James exclaimed.

"Well I was doing this for Jack when you arrived. It seemed easier to let you have this, and I'll do some more for him."

James looked a little sheepish. "Will you tell Jack that I appreciate his sacrifice?"

"I wouldn't worry," said Mary, "he doesn't know you've got his breakfast. I'll cook some more for him in a moment."

She left them to their meal, only to re-appear with the flat packages and flask that contained the packed lunch. "Will these fit in the saddle bags?" She inquired of James. His mouth being full again, he nodded. Abby was amazed with the speed with which James tucked away his breakfast. Food had never been of primary importance in her life, at least until she came to Combe Lyney, but even here, with the delicious meals that Mary brought to the table, she had taken care to ration her intake, ever mindful of her figure. James however seemed to have no such inhibitions, yet showed no signs of over-indulgence physically. He must, she thought be one of those lucky people who never put on weight.

James drained the last of a mug of tea, and turning to Abby with a smile on his face enquired, "ready?"

Cassie and Jason were standing with their heads together, as Abby and James came out. James fitted the packed lunches into a saddle bag on Cassie, who turned her head to see what was being done, and then placed the two flasks into the saddle bag on Jason, who side stepped skittishly as if to avoid this indignity. Abby had brought a small bag with her, containing those essentials that no woman would be without. James looped a leather strap through the handle and secured it behind Abby's saddle; he gave her the hard riding hat that thoughtfully he had brought with him.

"Right, come on then, I'll help you up, bend your leg, or if you wish step up onto the bench." Abby approached Jason cautiously, and opted to climb on the seat of the bench. James stood the other side of Jason to stop him moving away, and Abby threw her leg over the saddle, and mounted with little difficulty. Taking the reins up, she remembered that Jason needed a good hand, and pulled him up firmly when he started to walk. James had mounted Cassie in the meantime, and turning his head looked to Abby, who similarly goaded Jason into walking. James lead the way not out onto the road, but to a five bar gate situated in the rear fence of the yard, leaning down he unlatched it, gesturing to Abby to go through, he followed, allowing the gate to swing to behind Cassie, and re-latched the gate.

"I thought it would be easier this way, rather than going down the road."

Abby looked about curiously. "Won't the farmer mind?"

James shook his head. "No, I don't mind," he grinned at her, "don't forget, as you pointed out the other day, I own all of this land."

She grinned back. "How silly of me, Droit de Seignure and all that."

He laughed. "That's right, so do you feel safe being out with me today?"

"Of course," she replied, "besides I have got Jason to protect me. You did say he sees men as a threat."

James nodded ruefully. "Yes he does, oh well I had better behave myself today." Funny thing thought Abby, she could never visualise James not behaving himself.

She surveyed the landscape wondering where they were going. "O.K., where are you taking me?"

He pointed towards the corner of the meadow. "We'll get onto the track bed there, just beyond the cutting, I thought we would go up the valley first, you get some really good views of the line from up there."

"Is that near to Lills Platform?" She asked.

He looked across at her. "Good Lord, how did you know that?" Abby explained that Mr. Brasher had sent her all these notes and that it was a name mentioned quite frequently. They had arrived at the corner that James had indicated, and passed through the gate, and up onto the track. Turning to the left they walked the horses easily along the track bed, which at this point was starting to rise on an embankment.

Abby could see the girders of the railway bridge ahead. "Are we going to cross by the bridge?" she asked.

"No, I don't think it would be safe enough for the horses, you can walk across on foot, but there are one or two gaps that you have to look out for. We'll ford the river there; it's only about eighteen inches deep."

As they approached the bridge, James led them off the track and down the embankment at a slight angle. The dressed rock abutments loomed up on the right, as they descended the bank of the river, both Cassie and Jason stepping into the water without hesitation. The horses splashed through the river, which in summer drought was not flowing particularly quickly, both horses stretching their necks down to snatch mouthfuls of water. They would have stopped if allowed, but James urged Cassie onwards and Jason followed. They ascended the embankment once more and regained the track, walking on. Abby could see the definite rise as the track aimed itself across the meadows towards the valley side, here the climb became more pronounced and she wandered at the effort the old steam locomotives would have made to ascend this incline. The pathway had been narrow for a while and James had to lead the way, but it widened once they were off the embankment, and he dropped back to ride alongside. The track hugged the valley side, and as they climbed the views became ever more striking.

He pointed to a cluster of farm buildings. "That's Gallow farm."

Abby followed his pointing finger. "Should I know about that?" she asked.

He looked puzzled for a while, and then understanding came to him. "Sam and Mavis's farm," he explained.

"Oh, you know that Sam has asked us to call in, don't you?"

He pulled a face. "I know." He said with a long-suffering air. Seeing his expression Abby hastened to say.

"We don't have to; I don't think Sam would mind."

"You're right." James agreed with her. "Sam wouldn't mind, but Mavis would. I'm prepared to bet that she's got binoculars on us at this very moment, and when we come back this way, if we were to go straight past, I would never hear the end of it, so we will go and call." They rode on in silence for a while, as the track rose ever higher up the valley wall, and the trees closed in on both sides. They had on a couple of occasions come down off the embankment to cross the road, the decking having been lifted off the bridges. Intermittently there would be a break in the foliage and Abby caught breathtaking views of the valley below. The scenery reminded her a little of the journey on the West Somerset Railway, where the railway turned away from the coast and climbed into the valley. It was in this section that the locomotive was working at its hardest. Abby remembered the sounds and in her mind they were replayed, but relocating them to this climb through the Lyney Valley. Here, as there, glimpses of the valley below were enjoyed but briefly through gaps in the trees, or where one tree in particular had grown tall, inhibiting growth underneath. James looked back to her, and tilted an imaginary coffee cup in front of his lips.

"Coffee?" He called.

Abby nodded. "Wonderful idea."

They stopped, and dismounted at one of the breaks and took the time to enjoy the panorama. Away down to the left she could see the roofs and the Church of Combe Lyney, set out like a model village. Below the riverine bush indicated where the river flowed, and to the right she could make out the arches of the viaduct, still some distance away. She looked at her watch, and was astonished to see it was half past ten; they had been riding for two hours.

"How far have we come?" She turned to James, as he poured coffee from one of the flasks.

"About five miles." He handed her a cup, which she took gratefully.

"I can't believe it; it doesn't feel as if we've done any distance at all."

He grinned. "I would think that about three o' clock this afternoon, you will certainly feel that we have done some distance."

Abby smiled back at him. "Well Mr. Comberford, if I do, you, certainly will not know about it. Besides I am enjoying myself too much to worry about that now." They enjoyed the coffee in a companionable silence, Abby standing where she could take in the vista, James sitting on the bole of a tree, watching the horses. Cassie and Jason, their reins looped casually over a convenient branch, stood quietly occasionally snuffling about cropping the rich grass which grew hereabouts.

Finishing her coffee, Abby turned to James. "Shall we go on?" He nodded, and taking her cup, stowed it with his in the saddlebag.

Abby walked over to stand by Jason. "You will have to give me a leg up this time," she remarked.

"A pleasure ma'am," he smiled, "mind you, if you stay any longer eating Mary's food, it may not be."

Abby laughed. "You mean that if I put on any weight you won't want to know me, or are you asking me to leave?" He just shook his head; grasped Abby's bent leg, and boosted her into the saddle. God, she thought, I'm flirting, and then a second later, and he is too.

James having settled in his saddle waved his hand airily towards the track."Lead on." Whether under guidance from Abby or not Jason did lead on. The track was more overgrown here, so again that had to ride in single file. The steady ascent continued, but gradually they came out of the tree line and into an area half way between forest and moor. Here the grades lessened, as they neared the top of the climb. Once again they were able to ride side by side.

"Is this still Comberford land?" Abby asked of James.

"Yes, it is," he replied, "we will get to the quarry soon. Just after that the line crosses the valley by the viaduct. That marks the end of the estate."

"How far to the quarry?"

He thought for a moment. "About two miles, and another half mile beyond that to the viaduct."

"And how far down from Combe Lyney does the estate extend?"

There was a grin on his face now as he answered, "it extends down as far as the forest, that's on Crown land, about six miles." Abby did some quick calculations in her mind. The valley was some two miles wide at its widest, but narrowed considerably towards the top, Abby was trying to remember how to convert square miles to acres, when James said. "Eleven thousand four hundred acres; give or take an acre or two. About thirty five percent is in pasture, the rest is moor and forest."

She looked across to see him laughing. "You rotter, does everybody know what I'm thinking before I say anything."

He stopped laughing, but soon the irrepressible grin took command of his face. "Just because us lives in the sticks, doesn't mean us's thick." He used a grotesque version of the supposed country dialect.

Abby joined in the laughter, but got her own back. "You do that accent awfully well," she replied, using Sloan speak, "did you have to go to school especially to learn it; or does it come naturally?" James' shout of laughter echoed across the valley, and startled Jason into skittering sideways. James edged Cassie over and grabbed the rein to settle Jason. Abby was a little unsettled, but as soon as Jason resumed his gentle walk; she regained her composure. "I don't think I shall try to be humorous for a while; it doesn't seem to be good for my seat."

James was contrite. "Sorry about that, I had quite forgotten that Jason could be a little twitchy at times." The incident had put a slight dent in the good humour that they had shared, but it was soon forgotten.

James then changed the conversation completely. "The other day, you mentioned that you had resigned your job, and that you would be selling your flat; there's nothing wrong I hope?"

Abby considered for a while and then replied. "No, not really. I suppose I had gone as far as I could in the job, the City and women have a peculiar relationship, you are welcome as long as you understand your place. I could have gone on, fighting the system, and when I think about it, if I hadn't come down here, I probably would have done just that. But this place changed me, and I decided to take some time out, and re-assess my values and ambitions."

James nodded. "Yes this place does have that effect." He paused in thought. "I didn't think the glass ceiling existed anymore."

Abby smiled ruefully. "Don't you believe it. It's still there, not officially of course, not P.C. You can fight it, or as I decided, get out. But not without winning a little victory first." James was astute enough to realise that a little victory would be financial compensation, but manners dictated that one didn't ask about that, even if he had wanted to.

"So what are you looking to do?" He asked.

Abby looked at him. "At this moment I am not thinking about that. Right now, this is the most important thing in my life, finding out as much as I can about me, about my family, and my roots. I know it sounds crazy, but I need to find my place, and a kind of peace." James said nothing, knowing all too well the emotions that were running Abby, hadn't he suffered the same way?

They rode on in silence for a while. As they rounded a gentle curve, Abby could see the formation suddenly become double width, right where this started, and almost completely covered in bramble, was a buffer stop, constructed of bent rails. "What is this place?" She asked James.

"This is Lills quarry siding, the actual quarry is over there." He pointed off to the right, "it's not too far."

"So this presumably is Lills Platform."

"Well sort of, there is a platform about four hundred yards further on. That is Lills Platform." Abby's urgency communicated itself to Jason, who quickened his pace a little. Within a few minutes Abby could see the remains of the platform. Built almost entirely of sleepers, set on a brick base, it had lasted well, probably because the sleepers were soaked in creosote, or some other preservative. She walked Jason alongside the platform, and whilst some of the sleepers were starting to crumble, she could see that most were still strong.

"Amazing, isn't it?" She remarked to James, "over thirty years since the last train, and it still stands."

"Well they built well in those days. I think this is an excellent place to stop and discover what Mary has put in those packed lunches. I don't think we will be disturbed by a train, and I'm quite hungry."

He had manoeuvred Cassie alongside the platform as well, and swung his leg over the pommel, and alighted onto the platform. Abby did likewise, finding it much easier with the platform at the height it was. James produced a long rope from his saddle, and haltered the horses, giving them sufficient rope to wander a little. They then turned their attention to the lunch. Mary had indeed gone to town. Crusty bread rolls, filled with fresh salad, hard-boiled eggs, tomatoes, Pate, Fruit, the contents went on and on.

"James, I am never going to get even half way through this. You did say you were hungry, didn't you?"

James surveyed the spread. "Yes I am hungry, but judging from the amount here, I reckon that Mary thought she had to feed the horses as well. We'll never eat all of this, but what are we going to do with it all. You can't take it back, or Mary will be really upset."

"What do you mean? When I take it back. You are surely not going to chicken out on that."

"Yes, I was. I don't think that she would be too hard on you. I, however would definitely get the wrong end of her tongue."

"Get started, Mr. Wimp, we'll work out what to do with the leftovers, when you're stuffed to the gills." They sat on the platform with their legs dangling over the side, the repast spread out between them. They started on the pate and salad rolls.

Abby picked up the flasks. "There's coffee left in this, and I presume that the other is tea, what would you prefer?" Instead of answering James jumped down off the platform and walked over to Cassie.

He rummaged in the saddlebag, and turned around with a big grin on his face. "I wondered if you might like to indulge in something a little more refined." He held up a bottle of white wine, and two glasses. "The bottle was very cold this morning, and has warmed a little, but I think it still drinkable, what do you say?"

"I think it is absolutely perfect, Butler! Pour me some wine." The wine was very drinkable, and still chilled despite the increasing heat of the day, a fact demonstrated by the horses, which extended on their long halter, and had moved to some shade.

"How did you manage to keep the wine so chilled?" asked Abby.

"Well I have a small cool bag, which had been in the fridge overnight, together with the bottle, and it has worked quite well. After all we can't be drinking warm wine now, can we?" The last part of his sentence had been spoken with the accent of a Pukka Sahib.

Abby giggled. "Are you always as well organised as this?"

"I'm afraid not." James shook his head guiltily. "This was my mother's idea. She was always the organising one in the family. My father let her make all arrangements for whatever. He was good at running the estate, and quite astute. The fact that the estate is still extant is testimony to that. But in everything else he was hopeless. She even had to put out his clothes for him; otherwise he would have left the house in the morning dressed like a scarecrow."

"He sounds like Mr. Brasher."

"Who's Mr. Brasher? Oh yes, your railway man. What was he like?" Abby could remember him quite well. The way he dressed, Mr. Brasher would not meld into the background.

"He was a lovely little man, when you got to know him. Everything he wore was top quality, but completely uncoordinated. He has a lifelong ambition to write the complete history of the Great Western Railway, and nothing else matters. I would imagine he has some private income; otherwise I doubt he could devote the time to the project that he does. It was amazing though, we started talking about this line, and within minutes he had all the details to hand. Your family got mentioned a bit, as having been instrumental in building the line, together with speculation that all was not quite as above board as it should be."

James burst into laughter. "Oh wonderful, the evil Comberfords of Lyney, what were the old devils up to?" "

"It's only speculation, but free travel, and possibly a hidden levy on all goods coming in, and going out was part of the trade-off."

James still had the grin on his face, obviously not upset by the possible slander of his family name. "It would have been my great, great, great Grandfather, although I may have missed out or added a great or two. That must have been where my father got his acumen from." He paused, "pity it hasn't been passed on to the present generation." He looked at Abby. "So what else did you learn about the line?"

Abby thought for a moment. "Well this quarry was one of the main reasons for building it."

James looked astonished. "The quarry?"