Abby Ch. 15

James gave a disbelieving laugh. "Huh! Abby, you make it sound so easy. I don't believe that it could be as simple as that."

"Well I suppose it wasn't that simple. I would usually be in the office from about seven in the morning until ten at night, but that was so that I could do all my paperwork, and then have time to work on my imaginary investments."

"Fifteen hour days!" James was shocked. "When did you have a life? "

"I didn't. I worked Monday to Friday, and then Saturday and sometimes Sunday as well."

"How long did this go on for?"

"Ten years or so."

James shook his head in dismay. "Well it sounds to me as if you have worked enough for a lifetime however you look at it. So now you have the time to start living life. God knows its precious enough."

James's last comment sounded too heartfelt to be just another of his casual lines. Abby realised that there was a memory of the Falklands there, and wanted to ask, but stopped herself, knowing that James wouldn't talk about it. She was grateful that he hadn't asked, even in a roundabout way of her supposed high rewards from the Bank. It was ironic, that their friendship was getting closer, but there were still things that neither of them wished to talk about. She once again took notice of where they were riding. Turning in the saddle she could look back and see the valley. The trees patched dark greens and coppers against the lighter green of the pastures. The valley sides rose slowly in another shade of green up to the perfect cerulean blue of the sky. She had heard someone once talk about a big sky; they were talking about the Kansas prairies. This could never be described as a big sky, just a small strip of blue framed by the heights above the valley, but nonetheless the picture was perfect. The various shades of green complimenting the blue of the sky.

With that idyllic picture in mind she turned to James. "It must have been good, growing up here in the valley."

He thought for a while. "I can't say that I felt that. This was all I knew, so a feeling like good didn't come into it. There was a certain freedom, particularly after my riding reached the standard that father considered safe. Then I was allowed out on my own. I couldn't really come to harm, not with the tenants all keeping an eye out for me. As a kid you accept things as they are, never worrying about why your life was as it was. It was only when I went away to school, that I realised how lucky I had been."

"You went away to school?"

"Not at first." He shook his head. "I went to the school in Paverton until I was eight, then I went to Boarding school."

"How did you get to Paverton?"

"On the train. With all the other kids, and that included your mum."

Abby was stunned for a moment; she had never considered something so mundane as her mum going to school. It was obvious to her now, that there wasn't a school in the village. "That must have been exciting."

James smiled as he remembered those days. "The lads would get up to all kinds of mischief, not at the station of course, your grandfather would not allow any larking about, but on the train yes. There was many a boy pushed onto the luggage rack, and left there when the train reached Paverton."

"Did that happen to you?"

"Yes." He replied with a grin. "When I was small, but later nothing, probably because they realised who my father was, and imagined that some dire retribution would result from bullying me. It wouldn't have though. Dad seemed to take the view that this was part of the character forming that all boys had to experience." Abby laughed delightedly. James decided that he rather liked to hear Abby laugh, and broadened his smile. The laughing lady delved further.

"Then you went away to Boarding school?"

"Yes. That was when I started to realise how good life had been here, and decided that I would always want to live here."

"But you did go away."

Abby almost without thinking had asked the question from which, she had earlier shied away.

"Yes I did. Not mind you because I wanted to, it had to do with the gentlemen of Argentina, thinking to grab hold of something that didn't belong to them. Once I got back, I knew that my earlier decision was the right one." James had skied over the topic without delving into the detail. Abby was disappointed. Not just because she was curious, but also she wanted to try and understand something of that which James' had experienced. She made up her mind to try another tack later on.

The character of the valley was changing. The pasture land was diminishing, and trees were taking over.

"Are we leaving the farm land behind?" She asked.

"Yes." Replied James. "From here on it is pretty well all forestry."

"Yours I presume?" James laughed hearing the touch of friendly sarcasm in her voice.

"Well some of it anyway. A huge chunk of the forest is Crown Estate."

"How did that come about?"

"More history I'm afraid." James grinned. "Well we're back to the aftermath of the Plagues of the Middle Ages. The Lords held their lands by gift of the Monarch. Kings are different; they could give something away, and then take it back if it pleased them, well they could in those days. If the Lord to whom it was entrusted was no longer around, then the King could take it back, or give it to someone else. Often it would become part of Monastery lands, and after Henry the Eighth, it again became Crown property. With all these transfers back and forth, and no-one really knowing where the boundaries were, odd little bits slipped through the net, so the Yeomen who had grabbed one of those little bits, got to keep them."

"Like the Combyrfordes?" ." Abby chuckled.

"Like the Combyrfordes." He agreed.

"It would appear that I am not the only one who simplifies these things." Abby remarked lightly.

James looked hurt. "Abby I am talking about something that happened six hundred years ago. Any way it actually wasn't that simple. Getting the land was one thing, keeping it was an entirely different kettle of fish. In the times of the Tudors, the Stuarts, and then the Commonwealth, it paid to keep your head down."

Abby was intrigued. "For why?"

"Well it was all about religion." James explained. "First you could be in trouble for being a Catholic, twenty years later you could be in trouble for not being Catholic. Twenty years again, and it didn't matter if you were Catholic, but best not to advertise the fact, else you could be suspected of treasonable activity. Later you could be in trouble for being a Royalist, who were suspected of being Catholic and then later still for being a Parliamentarian and Presbyterian. Then it got really silly, you had to be the right kind of Presbyterian else you were in trouble. Other Landowners in the area lost everything by becoming too prominent. If you get yourself noticed then you come under pressure to discuss your opinions. Tell everybody what you believe in, and it could and did rebound on you depending on the powers of the day. Through all this the Comberfords seem to have remained unnoticed, managing to keep their little plot of England. There are some advantages to being in the back of beyond. But for something like two hundred years holding the wrong beliefs or thoughts could lose you everything, including your life." Abby was digesting all this history. It had an immediacy that her interest in industrial history had never possessed, it was being related by someone whose family had been touched and shaped by history.

Abby's earlier comment about the changing face of the Valley had prompted James to think of lunching before they entered the woodland proper.

"Shall we stop for some lunch? It may be a bit early, but I was thinking that we can enjoy the Sun here, whereas if we go on, it would be quite gloomy."

"Suits me, where do you think?" James considered and pointed.

"See where there is an accommodation crossing just ahead, there." Abby could see what had been a crossing, by the gates, but had not heard the term 'accommodation crossing' before. She surmised that it was exactly what the words meant, a crossing made to accommodate the farmer who worked land either side of the railway. They arrived at the crossing, which offered a pleasant grassy bank for them. James opened the gate and walked both Jason and Cassie into the field. He looped the stirrups up and left them to graze. He returned with the goodies from the saddle-bags and a blanket which had been strapped to the saddle. Abby noted the cool-bag, which she presumed would contain a bottle of Wine.

"Don't you think you should have asked the farmer, before you let them loose?"

"Not a problem. Abe Stone rents this land, and he doesn't have enough livestock now to graze it. I am concerned that one quarter day he will tell me he doesn't want it anymore, and I don't think anyone else will want it, so I shall be down three acres. I hesitate to remind you that I actually own the land anyway. But if I do that you will no doubt find cause to make some comment about Landlords and Serfs." Abby giggled, as she probably would have made such a comment. Instead she asked a question although she was well aware of the answer.

"Quarter day?"

"The day that rent get paid, once a quarter."

They busied themselves getting the blanket down and opening the various parcels of food that Mary had provided. Eventually they found themselves comfortable positions, and James raised his glass of wine to her, and then to his lips. "What could be better," he asked. "A lovely day, good food and wine, peace and quiet, and a pretty girl to share with?" Abby blushed a little, his compliments were more frequent now, and secretly she enjoyed them, even when they were disguised by his banter.

"Well I suppose I should feel safe, after all you are an Officer and a Gentleman."

"Don't assume too much, I am also the Squire around here, and you know what they say about Squires." He mimed twisting an imaginary moustache. Abby smiled, and turned to view their surroundings and reflect. She could honestly admit to herself that she had never felt more relaxed in her whole life. Yet again she confirmed to herself the sense in her decision to make a new life here in this valley. The problem of an occupation was ever present, but not a priority. From the corners of her eyes, she took a surreptitious glance at James, who was applying himself wholeheartedly to the food. Her relaxed state had a great deal to do with him. He was good company, solicitous of her well-being, and amusing. She wondered if he wanted to take their friendship to another level? Possibly, she thought, but knew that he would never make the first move. Whilst his demeanour was that of a confident man of the world, she sensed a shyness within him that would preclude his making an advance that could be rejected.

James interrupted her thoughts. "Have you thought much about what you will do at the station?" His question brought her quickly out of her reverie.

"I have thought about it a little. My mind is toying with the idea of restoring it to how it looked when granddad first came here."

"Whew! That could be a tall order." He went on. "You know that it is listed don't you. So you cannot change the character of the building anyway."

"Yes I know. I suppose that restoring it to its original condition would be acceptable?" James didn't have to think about that.

"That would be ok, but you will have to be careful how you do it, I'll get Cobbold to look into it. But whatever way you look at it, I imagine it will be costly." Abby nodded her head.

"I thought it would, but it's worth it. It's about connecting with my past, or rather my family's past. I would like to see the station as granddad saw it. Oh I know I can't do everything. I can't put the rails back, but the house, the station, the platform, possibly those I can restore."

James mused for a moment. "I may be able to help, I am sure that there are some photographs of the station somewhere at home. I'll have a look."

"That would be really helpful. I was thinking of asking Mr. Brasher to advise me. Perhaps he would even come down. What he doesn't know about the Great Western is not worth knowing anyway."

"You're really serious about this aren't you?"

"Yes. When can I take over?"

"If it was anyone else I would say let's get the legalities out of the way, but that's no worry, we have agreed so as far as I am concerned you can start any time you like."

"You'll trust me then?"

"Of course."

"Great, I'll write to Mr. Brasher immediately."

"Why don't you phone him?"

"Mr. Brasher isn't the sort of man who telephones people. He prefers to write, and I am sure that he will look upon my request more kindly, if I write to him."

"I think I like the sound of Mr. Brasher." James murmured.

Abby looked across at him. "Yes I think you would. You too are a little bit of a throwback. No! Not a throwback, a man out of his time."

James was shocked. "How do you make that out?"

"Well it is just your attitude to life. You love it here in the valley, where modern life doesn't intrude too much, in fact from some of the things you have said I get the feeling that you hate where life is going, and would like it to stand still for a while."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Once I would have said yes, but now I think I am catching the virus. I look forward to living life at this pace."

"See I told you, Posh Lady to Country Bumpkin in one easy lesson."

Abby laughed. "Well thinking about the station I think it is going to take quite a lot of money to enjoy this Life. Posh Lady needs that sort of money to become Country Bumpkin."

James grinned. "So it takes a boatload of cash to turn from Posh Lady to Rustic, now normally it's the other way round."

Abby felt that she could ask the question that had been in her mind for quite a while. "On that score, what turned an Officer and a Gentleman into the wicked Squire?" The grin faded from James' face.

To be continued