Isla's Summer

Tractions engines and tractors of all shapes and sizes were being offloaded from trailers and moved to show areas. Some musical steam organs were set up. They looked wonderful and colourful, and I wished I could hear them. Gary claimed they sounded like a cacophony of cats breaking glass, but I doubt it.

Upon our return to our base, the amount of traffic arriving had dropped off enough to warrant Gary suggesting to go for a trial ride around. Fergie fired up fine, and we hitched on the carriages. We tested the traffic lights and the klaxon. Once happy, we set off.

About half way around, an official stopped us, so we showed the systems we had in place to ensure a safe ride. As usual, my being deaf came into play, so we explained the traffic light system and the klaxon.

It did not convince him that having a deaf person acting as a conductor was safe enough, despite Gary explaining that in previous years, they hadn't used one at all. But we had come across the one 'more than my job's worth,' volunteer.

Gary insisted he call in the main site co-ordinator who Barney had dealt with previously. Initially he refused, but after some fast signing and Gary interpreting, he realised we would not be ignored.

Once the site co-ordinator came, he reviewed the risk assessment and confirmed that in previous years they considered the two short carriages being within the sight of the driver was sufficient for safety. Therefore, to have another person acting as a conductor, whether myself, cat or Helen, would be safer.

We then swapped and chugged on... It was fun for me to drive Fergie around the whole site, albeit at a walking pace, and to see people setting up and getting ready for the public tomorrow. At the animal show marquee, we halted and found Mark & Kevin.

The piglets were fine in a pen, alongside dozens of other breeds, lying in the bed of straw left. We found the two over with the sheep. Kevin's sheep were clean, with their fleeces fluffed up and almost looked like cartoon animals.

We returned to the Barnes base camp with the Land Rover trailing behind. We all agreed that without lunch we were starving, so we walked to the hospitality tents to find some food. It was fun in the beer tent, buying some cider and pies to eat.

It seemed half the tent knew Gary, and all eye balled me on his arm. A few jealous looks, whilst Gary also received some friendly banter, but some with sexist undertones that he promptly knocked on the head.

At a table chatting, Mark and Kevin were now used to communicating and slipping in a few signs of during conversation, but nowhere near their girlfriend's level of expertise. We got a few double takes when people walked by, seeing us signing, but on the whole it was more out of novelty.

One crowd of lads wanted Gary to join them. Neither Kevin nor Mark looked comfortable with any offers that included them. Gary didn't look disappointed when he declined.

"It's okay Gary, if you want to have a beer with friends. Dad is picking me up from the village soon. Point me in the right direction and I'll be okay."

"No. It's okay... They're the wrong kind of friends... They're still labouring or flipping burgers, although I think they've notched up their nocturnal habits to something stronger."

"Are these the 'wrong friends' that used to get you into trouble?"

Gary nodded. "It's okay I can handle them, look they have already gotten bored and moved on."

I glanced over and they were pushing another group around, causing a bit of a scene. Although they had chosen the wrong ones to bully, as they had larger friends at the bar that returned to encourage them to leave.

Once finished, Gary walked me to the village, and we waited on the green for when dad arrived in his Volvo to take me home. We kissed, and I wished him well for his night under canvas. As dad drove me back home, my legs ached. Whilst I'm not unfit, we had been on our feet and walked miles during the day.

The next morning, Helen and Cat picked me up, and we returned to the exhibitor's entrance, with tickets to gain entry and reach Gary's base camp. We found them sat on the tractor carriages eating bacon baps with cups of coffee.

Helen outlined the rota of drivers, conductors and animal husbandry for the day. The sun was out, promising a dryer day that we'd recently had. Being Friday, they weren't expecting too many visitors, with the Sunday expecting to be the busiest day.

We had time before the gates opened, so Gary and I walked through some of the nearby traction steam engines. The smell was Victorian, with coal burning and lubricating oil smouldering on the hot surfaces. It was more romantic than I'd have thought.

The day flashed by in a round of driving, taking fares, conducting and helping with the piglets. Helen had printed out a few cards for me, in case I was caught on my own. One explained I was deaf and could only communicate with sign language. Another had answer choices, telling them to ask the driver, or ask an official in a high-visibility jacket or confirming the prices.

With the rides being one pound per adult and nothing for young children, conducting wasn't a hard job. The fare went to a local charity that the steam fair supported and they'd put some advertising banners on the carriages. The only hard part was locking all the carriages' short doors shut before giving the okay to the driver.

It was a relief when Cat and Helen took over to give Gary and I a break. We headed for the hospitality tents and had a late lunch. As we wandered around, almost every third person knew Gary. He explained any relationships as he made any introductions...

'I used to play football/Rugby/Cricket with or against him.'

'We were at school together.'

'We went to Agricultural college together.'

The list seemed endless, but there was the odd one who Gary avoided, or didn't introduce and you could see by his face and mannerism, that these were the ones he didn't want to rebuild friendships with.

The afternoon was busier, and we were turning people away. Although we had several pick up and drop-off points, around the showground. Looking after the piglets was easy and fun, although a few times Gary had to remind me that the idea was to make bacon and not use them as pets, when I got too attached.

Suddenly one-minute we were busy and the next, the public had left the showground. The six of us made our way to a beer tent and then to the food area to have barbecue ribs in a tray with a bag of chips. We found an empty table to scoff and relieve our aching legs.

Mark and Kevin caught us up to date with their day. Recounting when some young kids escaped the goat enclosure and started climbing displays and eating the hemp guy ropes of the marquee.

Whilst talking, I was still hungry and mentioned it would be nice to have something to finish the meal off... Gary made his excuses and went in one direction, whilst Helen went in the opposite direction.

With Gary gone, Cat smiled and signed, "You and Gary have worked well together today... In fact, you always work well as a team... You keep him in check and he listens to you more than us. You're good for him Isla... you'll be a perfect... "

She stopped and bit her lip. Mark shot her a look, telling me that he thought she was meddling and had gone too far.

I finished the sentence for her, signing, "Wife?"

Cat curled her lip in embarrassment. "I'm sorry... I'm jumping the gun a bit, aren't I? I'm sorry..."

She looked genuine and annoyed with herself, but before we could talk further, Gary returned with more beer and cider. We all sat looking at each other, in silent agreement not to say anything further.

Helen arrived back with large wedges of cheesecake. Whilst not local fare, the cheesecake was welcome. We all tucked in and continued the original conversation. Then when I had the call of nature, Cat came with me.

"I'm sorry Isla, I am poking my nose in... don't blame Gary... It's just Helen and I want what is best for him..."

"And you?"

She blushed, realising that I can read her face as much as her lips, so couldn't lie.

"Yes... Oh Isla, you are the best thing that has ever happened to him and I'm sure you could do better... But we need you."

"You need me?"

"Well... You know, you've done so much for the farm... Helen and I don't want the old Gary back... We don't want our brother behind bars."

Her face was full of honesty and fear...

Back at the table, the two sisters made a point of telling the boys how we were returning home to nice warm beds, whilst they would be in cold sleeping bags. No amount of teasing would tempt either to stay with their boyfriends.

I wouldn't have minded staying with Gary, but his tent was a tiny, one man trekking tent, with very little room for his large frame, let alone with the addition of me. It would have taken a long stretch of imagination to find it romantic. As the light went, we thought it best to make our way back to the car, leaving the men drinking.

That night in bed, I needed little help sleeping, but I did toss and turn a little over Cat and Helen... Marrying someone because it suited his sisters wasn't the best foundation for a marriage...

On the drive home. I hadn't been sure whether to raise the subject again. Although we talked, it seemed as if we were avoiding the elephant in the car... They weren't to know we've not yet done the deed, and he'd have grounds for divorce if we were married.

Once off to sleep, dreams of living out of a tiny tent haunted me or living in a rundown rickety shepherd hut, wearing sheep's fleece clothes and keeping pigs as pets.

I allowed myself a lie in the next morning. I'd be lying if I said I was looking forward to the drive with Helen and Cat later. Mum and dad joined me for breakfast, although they were coming later as paying members of the public. My smart phone buzzed, and I saw a text from Helen. For the first time, I didn't want to open it, but I knew I had to.

< Isla love. Cat told me what she'd said yesterday. Look, she can be a pushy cow, and we love Gary, but that doesn't absolve her from poking her nose in. If you'd prefer to make your own way to Wellend this morning, we understand. BUT I'd much rather we forget about it and move on? >

If I went on my own, it would create an invisible rift between us all... just a thin end of a wedge, a wedge I definitely don't want to be there. Here was the hand of friendship and I felt I ought to take it, not quite kissing and making up, but it wasn't worth throwing toys out of the pram for Cat's excitement after a cider.

< That's ok Helen... I love him too... but maybe not in the same way!! If I get to thinking of marriage, you will be the first to know, but for now, can I just be his girlfriend? >

< Oh, yes... We love you too... Gary is so lucky to have you... I'm doing it now aren't I? Sorry hun..xx. So, are we still picking you up? >

< I'm glad you're my friends. I think you'd be scary if not... Yes, please... see you soon..xx >

We had agreed yesterday to wear vintage dress today, just to add to the authenticity of the vintage machines at the show. I had a few 50s style dresses that could pass for older and mum tied my hair up in the same vintage hairstyle. Making me look more like a world war two land girl, in a dress rather than overalls, ready to 'dig for England'.

The doorbell rang my smart watch, and I trotted to the door. I opened it to find Helen in blue overalls and her hair tied up the same. Cat was a little sheepish remaining in the car, but our squeals of delight brought her out. I rang the doorbell to bring mum out and got her to take our photo.

This broke the ice and made the car journey to Wellend far more comfortable, possibly for all three of us. This time we found the men drinking tea after having had full English breakfasts whilst nursing mild hangovers.

It was nice to be greeted by a big bear hug from Gary and a kiss. We had some time, so we walked to grab a decent coffee. Gary told me about their evening of singing folk songs with a group that ran a steamroller and a steam timber mill. We pass their display on Fergie's route.

Yesterday's weather forecast said it would remain dry today, and the sky promised the sun would make an appearance later. I'd forgotten to check the weather that morning, but it certainly felt promising.

Suddenly, at ten, the public flowed in, with almost double the attendance of Friday. Yesterday had made a good rehearsal, as at our first stop Fergie was full, which set the theme for the day. It was a disappointment for some, but we were only raising money for a local charity.

Where today was busier, where people weren't as tolerant, with some pushing to get on, even before people had exited the carriages. With my lack of a strong voice, I couldn't assert myself. To manage this, Gary and I swapped with the traffic light system, working well.

People calmed down when instructed by a bear of a man, asking them to wait. I had to use the front klaxon a lot, as I drove, with people would walk across our path, even with Fergie barely making walking speed.

It was a relief when Cat and Helen took over, giving us a break. We grabbed some food and bumped into both sets of parents. Sally had taken the piglets into the show pen and they won a second place. Kevin's sheep were going into the ring later.

All too soon, we had to meet Cat and Helen at the main display arena to give them a rest. All the other running Massey Ferguson tractors were waiting there, ready to enter to drive around for the crowd. Sally and Barney were going to meet us so they could ride in the carriages.

Whilst we were waiting for the previous vehicles on display to leave, a young girl danced excitedly around the tractors, signing to her parents. As she reached Fergie, I waved and signed "Hello," which excited her.

"I'm looking for a tractor named F, e, r, g, i, e." She signed back to me.

Her parents must be part of my Patreon, with my book not yet published. I checked no one was in the driving seat and the handbrake was on.

Ensuring there was no chance of Fergie moving, I lifted the girl up for her to stand on the one wonky front wheel, held her balanced there and pointed at the black letters Gary had written on the bonnet.

I signed each letter for her, "F, e, r, g, i, e."

She grinned, turning to her parents, "Here is Fergie... Mum, this is Fergie."

I lifted her back down and smiled at her parents.

"Mummy, this lady signs like us."

We all signed greetings, as the girl turned to me and signed, "I read books by a nice lady. She also writes on the internet and told me about a little tractor named Fergie."

Her mum signed, "She loves to read but loves the author Isla Peters and has all her books."

I stooped down to the little girl's level and signed, "That is strange... My name is Isla Peters... And I write books for little girls like you."

"Mummy, the lady writes books like Miss Isla Peters."

We all laughed, and I introduced myself to her parent's correctly, shaking hands. Her mother explained how her daughter Joanne loved reading and especially my books. They had been following my Patreon for a while and it was only by chance that they had come to Wellend.

Gary came over, so I introduced them and he invited the little girl to sit in Fergie's seat. She could barely reach the steering wheel, so the pedals and handbrake were safe. We chatted with both her and her parents as the previous vehicles started to leave the field.

"How would you like a ride behind Fergie, in the carriages?" Gary asked Joanne.

She squealed with delight and we got her sat in the front row, but she insisted Gary and I sit with her and her parents behind. Helen jumped on Fergie, and Cat sat behind in the second carriage. Just as the ringmaster invited us in, Sally and Barney arrived, jumping in to sit with Cat.

Little Joanne was so excited she was signing fast and loose, which confused Gary. Her parents apologised, explaining that a lot of her excitement was meeting strangers who could sign back. Reminding me of my isolation in my early years, giving me an empathy with her.

Helen, driving Fergie, led the line of tractors into the ring, allowed two laps, then we lined up. The ringmaster commenting on each tractor, mentioning the year of manufacture and its importance in the development of tractors.

Neither Joanne nor I could hear any of this, so we continued signing. She asked hundreds of questions about Fergie and my existing published books. She knew the characters inside out, so had her own views on each character. Neither did she leave Gary alone, tapping him when she wanted to ask him anything.

Waiting for our turn for the ringmaster to interview us, Cat and Helen produced buckets, so we all walked around the ring for donations to the charity supported by the steam rally. Once back at the carriage, I found Joanne focussed on drawing a picture on a sketchpad, just as I did when I was little.

She had drawn three matchstick people, stood in front of Fergie and carriages, and had written the names Gary, Joanne, and Isla beneath the three people. I made an appropriate fuss of her picture. Telling her mother that was how I started, then progressed to writing.

She asked me to draw something, so I drew her sat driving Fergie and signed it, 'To my favourite reader Joanne, Isla.' I drew the dot over the 'i' as a little island, like my book's logo. She beamed with excitement, showing everyone for her mum to store it safely in a bag.

Gary informed us we were to move off again, so we shut ourselves back in the carriages and Helen drove us around the show ring twice more and then headed to the nearest tractor stop to pick up the next batch of passengers.

Here we had to say goodbye to Joanne and her parents, although Helen and Cat offered to take her to see our piglets. She wanted to ride some more. Gary promised her she could ride again later, but it was only fair that other boys and girls rode Fergie for a while.

As Helen, Cat, Joanne and her parents walked away, I noticed darker clouds gathering around the show grounds. Earlier it had looked as if it was clearing up, but typical of any British summer, nothing was predictable.

Gary and I returned to our tried and tested teamwork with me driving. In the large rear mirrors, I could watch Gary lifting kids in and out of the carriages at various stops as we pottered around.

My mind drifted to his interaction with Joanne. I glanced back into the mirror as Gary made sure a pair of boys were safely on and their door closed. I casually thought about what a good father he would make to any of our future kids.

I blushed at my admittance. 'Our Kids,' did I really just think that? After two degrees and years at university, does it still all came down basic cave woman instinct? My mind flashed across the last few months and I realised it didn't. My love for this man had grown to be the sum of all his parts, and this was just another facet that attracted me to him.

I continued to blush, thinking over the implications and how joyful it would be for kids to have such a fun dad. I glanced back to see Gary frantically pressing the green button and waving for me to get going...

Whilst the carriages had little roofs, Fergie did not, and I soon felt more than one raindrop landing on me... Soon it was raining and looking at the sky, it would not stop soon. At the next stop, there was no one waiting, and no one wanted to get off.

As we ventured on, the rain worsened and we noticed people were cowering inside show tents or making their way to the car parks. Already soaked through, I pulled my lightweight raincoat out of the toolbox.

At the stop nearest the car park, all our passengers disembarked and headed for their cars. As Gary pulled his raincoat on, we could already see streams of cars heading for the car park exits. The car parks were really fields, which were already waterlogged, you could see some cars struggling in the heavy conditions.