Synopsis

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The telephone in the house rang several times and Claire soon found out that Knotted Pine Farm was on a party line so she had to listen for their code. One somewhat indignant female voice told her that the Sloane's code was long, short, short and she should not answer if any other code rang. Finally it did ring that code and Claire answered.

"Claire?" a male voice said.

"Yes."

"It's Doctor Wayne Williams speaking. I've news about Alan and Hazel."

"How are they?" Claire felt her heart race and her hand holding the receiver shook.

"None of their injuries are life threatening but…" Life threatening! It still sounded bad. "... while we had the helicopter we decided to take them both to Wanganui Hospital. Alan needs his broken leg put in a caste and Hazel needed surgery."

"Why what's wrong?"

"There were internal injuries. As you are not related to her, I'm afraid that's all I can tell you."

"But when will they come back?"

"The hospital will hold Alan for a couple of days as he also has some other injuries. Hazel will be there for at least a week, possibly longer."

"Oh hell."

"Look Claire, if you wish I can arrange for you to go somewhere else. There's a lady in Taihape who is always prepared to take someone on short notice or I can order a train ticket back to Wellington for you. You do have some money, don't you?"

"Yes," Claire whispered. "I'm not going back to Wellington though and that's final."

The phone went quiet for a second before the doctor spoke again. "Would you like me to ring Miss Pentrose then? That's the lady I just mentioned?"

"I want to stay here," Claire retorted. "There are three dogs and a cat that need feeding. As well there are chooks and..."

"... It's fine with Alan and Hazel," Wayne interrupted. "They both said you're welcome to stay but they don't want you to be left alone."

"If it's not too long," Claire replied but she didn't feel confident.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. In the meantime ring short, long, short, on your line if you need any help. That'll put you in contact with your closest neighbour. Do you know how to use the old party lines?"

"I'm learning fast," Claire said and flushed at her curt comment. "Sorry, Doctor Williams, I realise you're trying to help me when it’s not even your job."

"In some ways it is. Your Wellington doctor advised me you were coming to Taihape and, unless you want someone else, I'm prepared to be your medical practitioner during your pregnancy."

"I'd like that," Claire whispered. "Thank you for ringing,"

When she hung up she even remembered to give the handle a half turn to tell everyone else on the line that they could use the phone if they wished. She bent down to pat Jiggy who had hardly left her side and walked through to the kitchen. It was only early afternoon and she had already had some soup for lunch but felt hungry again.  It seemed as if the day had been going forever.

*

Claire saw nobody all afternoon and only a handful of vehicles had driven past. By the time the winter sun had disappeared early behind the western hill the snow had turned to slush and the temperature had plummeted. Earlier she had found an old refrigerator in the back shed filled with dog food so she'd fed and chained the farm dogs to their kennels that were in a sheltered lean-to, feed the hens and checked on everything that she thought necessary. Finally, she retreated indoors with an armful of wood for the fire.

The dark kitchen windows looked like menacing eyes so she pulled the curtains, checked that all the doors were locked and lit a fire in the kitchen fireplace. There was also another fireplace in the front room at the other end of the house but she decided to stay in the kitchen. Once the fire was blazing and Jiggy and Fluffy the cat had settled down, she felt less isolated. She didn't really feel like cooking so found a tin of stew to heat and eat on a piece of toast.

Afterwards she turned on the radio and found she could pick up 2ZB, the station she listened to at home. At seven there were the usual evening shows, a comedy Life With Dexter, a serial she followed and a hit parade. The bookshelf beside the fire held a row of romantic novels, women's and farm magazines and the pink covered Weekly News. She loved reading so soon immersed herself in the magazines. By nine the fire had burned down but the thought of going out for more wood was frightening so she decided to go to bed.

*

Claire awoke from a deep sleep with a start. It was so dark she couldn't even see her hand but she could hear something! Trembling from both the cold and apprehension she remembered she was alone in the farmhouse. Something had awoken her. She pulled the sheet close around her neck and wondered what to do. If someone was there and she turned on the light it would only tell any intruder where she was.

She lay still and listened but now there was no sound.  Perhaps she had been dreaming. She rolled over and gasped in fright. Someone was on the bed!

She flung her blankets aside and swung her arms around for the light cord. In these old houses the bedroom lights were turned on with one that hung down from the ceiling.

"Who's here?" she cried as visions of an attack filled her mind.

There was no reply.

Claire found the light cord and pulled.

There on the bed, blinking in the bright light was Fluffy. Claire swung around. On the mat beside her bed Jiggy lay sound asleep in a ball.

"It was you, Fluffy. I'm sorry I thought it was..." Tears filled her eyes. "Oh Fluffy, thank you for being with me." She glanced down at the sleeping dog. "If anyone did come you'd both warn me, anyway. Silly me, I'm worse than any scatty third former."

She needed to go to the toilet and this presented another problem. It was right down the hallway, through the kitchen and off the end of the washhouse beyond. She gulped and climbed out of bed. The floor was freezing under her bare feet and her arms felt rough with goose pimples. She grabbed a cardigan, pulled it on over her nightdress and opened the bedroom door. It was like a cave ahead. She had no idea where the light switch was so ran her hand along the wall as she walked. Three quarters of the way along the hallway she came to curtains that hung down across an archway. She moved them aside.

Ahead was a flickering red light. Her heart leaped until she realised it was the reflection of the embers from the fireplace. She tiptoed on and finally found the light switch. With the light on the hallway looked almost friendly. Two frames on the wall showed a photo of Alan and Hazel at their wedding and other photo showed another couple with the woman in old-fashioned clothes and the man dressed in an army officer's uniform. It was probably Hazel or Alan's parents.

Claire walked through to the kitchen and onto the toilet where the tiny room gave her even less security. It was freezing with cold air whistling in the slates of glass that made up the window.

Back in the bedroom with the lights all off, she patted Jiggy, scrambled beneath the blankets and laughed when something quite heavy jumped on her. Fluffy had arrived and wanted to crawl under the blankets with her.

*

The next sound also made Claire jump in fright. It was daylight and a vehicle was coming up the drive. She leaped out of bed, pulled some outer clothes over her nightgown and sneaked out to the kitchen where the windows overlooked the drive. She was right for a large new car that only farmers seemed to be able to afford had stopped in front of the garage.

The car's door was open but she could see nobody. She frowned. Why hadn't the dogs barked? She glanced down and saw Jiggy beside her. The little dog had her front paws on the windowsill so she could see out. Her tail wagged. Before Claire could think more about this she heard the kitchen door handle rattling. Someone was trying to unlock the door.

Even as she watched, the key that she'd left in the lock on the inside was pushed out. It fell to the floor with a ping and the door swung open. Claire stood there with her heart racing.

A man limped in and shut the door. He placed a walking stick against the wall and proceeded to take off an old coat and had obviously not seen her.

"What do you want?' Claire said in a loud voice as she attempted to hide her anxiousness.

The man's shoulders jerked and he swung around so she could see his face for the first time. He was elderly with grey hair, eyebrows and moustache, wrinkled tanned skin and piercing blue eyes.

"That question is mine young lady. I've come to stay but who are you and why are you in my daughter's house?"

"I'm looking after it," Claire said defiantly. Anger replaced her fear. "You never answered my question."

The new arrival studied her and wiped a hand over a be-stubbled chin. For a second his eyes gripped her before he sort of grinned. "You're the girl from Wellington with a bun the oven?"

"You don't have to be crude," Claire retorted. "It's none of your business, anyway."

The man coughed and brought out a handkerchief to wipe his moustache. "You are absolutely correct and I apologise. I am Robert Hodge, Hazel's father."

Claire sighed in relief. "I'm Claire Woodham, Mr Hodge."

Hazel's father rubbed his moustache again as if deep in thought. "Claire Woodham, you say?"

"Yes. Why, is there something unusual about my name?"

"No, nothing but call me by my Christian name."

"Of course, Bob," Claire said.

The old man laughed.

"All the Roberts I know are called Bob but if you prefer, I can call you Robert," Claire muttered.

"No Bob will be fine. Lizzy, my late wife, called me that. I only heard of Hazel and Alan's accident late last night and decided to leave it until this morning before I came out here to look after the farm animals. By the look of Jiggy here, they're already in good hands."

Claire smiled. "I can only do so much. You're going to stay, you say?"

Bob nodded. "If an old man isn't a nuisance, otherwise I'll feed out and go home."

Claire's emotions changed, this time almost to shame... Oh hell she was always having mood changes. This never used to happen. She flushed and shook her head. "No, please stay. I have to admit I was a bit lonely last night. Have you had breakfast?"

"Nothing to speak of."

"Good. If you give me a few moments to get dressed I'll be with you."

Bob Hodge studied her again with that intense look under shaggy eyebrows. Claire glanced away.

"If that's okay with you," she whispered.

"Claire, that sounds grand. What say I stoke up the fire and feed the farm dogs? They're usually fed about this time of the morning, you know."

Claire nodded. Once she got though his crusty facade, Hazel's father seemed to be quite a genuine old guy and it was nice to have someone else on the farm. She smiled, turned and walked back to the bedroom.

*

Claire took another chance to study Bob Hodge over the breakfast table. He glanced up and caught her eyes, smiled and continued to eat the plate of bacon and eggs that Claire had cooked. Finally he stopped and reached for his cup of tea,

"That, Claire is the best breakfast I have had in years. Where did you learn to be such a good cook?"

Claire smiled. "I do it at home quite often… or did, I should say."

Bob nodded but made no other comment until he had finished his tea. "You not having a hot drink?" he asked.

"I don't usually but when I do it's coffee."

"And drunk in one of those downtown coffee bars. There's even one here in Taihape, you know."

"It's better than the pub with locals staggering out after six o'clock with a couple of extra bottles in a paper bag."

"Aye, that it is," Bob said. He stood up and limped over but almost dropped his dishes as he placed them in the sink

Claire rushed after him. "I'll do it."

Bob nodded. "Damned shaking hand hinders a bit," he muttered. "Had one of those goddam stokes a couple of years back but Hazel reckons my walking is improving. What say we both agree to do what we can? I don't need a nurse maid and I'm sure you don't want an old bugger moaning at you about how good the old days were."

Claire saw Bob's grin. She was beginning to enjoy his company. "Agreed," she said.

"Good! Driven a tractor, Claire?"

"Me? No but I've got my driver's licence."

"So you start today. You'll need to use the tractor to load the trailer with hay. I'm afraid I can't drive it any more." Bob glanced out the window. "Had to get a new car with an automatic gearbox, you know. Cost me and arm and a leg." He laughed.  "I told Hazel that is why I limp around as if I'm ninety."

"It sounds as if Hazel is good to you."

"A wonderful daughter and I have to admit Alan is a hard worker. They get on well."

"Admit?"

Bob laughed again. "You are an astute young lady. I thought he was one of those city slickers, you know the type, university degree with all the theories but had never done a decent day's work in his entire life. Anyhow, Hazel fell for him and, well here he is with her on the old family farm. Does a few things differently than I would have done but it seems to have worked."

"I'm a city slicker, straight from a private girls school."

"But still met the boys."

"Bob!" Claire retorted.

Hazel's father laughed. "Okay, it's none of my goddam business. Hazel tells me I'm a bit blunt sometimes."

"I don't really mind," Claire whispered. "I'd rather have that than an icy silence and dark looks. It's so easy to judge others, isn't it?"

"It is." Bob glanced at the dirty dishes Claire had piled in the sink. "Leave them. We need to get out and feed the stock. Clouds are building over the hills."

"Meaning?"

"Come lunchtime and it'll be pouring down unless, of course more snow comes."

*

The tractor looked huge with double back wheels and a hydraulic lift at the front with a steel bucket behind two long prongs. At the moment they were raised high so the driver could see ahead beneath them.

"Right, into the driver's seat, my girl," Bob said.

"Can't we take the little one?" Claire asked and nodded at a smaller tractor further along the shed.

"Not unless you want to lift the hay bales yourself. They weigh about a hundredweight each. Normally Alan loads the truck with bales but we'll need to use the trailer." He pointed to a four-wheeled trailer next to the small tractor. "You'll have to back out, swing around and pull the trailer along beside the hay in the shed. Then we'll uncouple it and load the hay on."

"Oh hell." Claire bit on her lip.

"You can do it. I heard you drove the Land Rover up to the top flat."

"Who from?"

Bob shrugged. "Word gets around."

The compliment raised Claire spirits. She reached for a handle and swung herself up into the steel seat. She was quite tall but the pedals seemed to go down forever when she pushed them. Bob stood by the tractor and explained everything from adjusting the seat's height to how to use the front lift.

The tractor started with a roar, Claire stuck the gear handle in the reverse spot and looked for the rear vision mirror. There was none! Oh hell, she always used the mirror when reversing the car.

Bob had moved discretely back and waved her out.

Claire gulped, pushed the accelerator, swung her head around and let the clutch out withy infinite slowness. Nothing happened.

Bugger!

She lifted her left foot right off the pedal and the massive tractor charged out of the shed like a rocket. Oh hell, she'd forgotten the hand throttle was half on. She jerked the steering wheel and swung half way around the back yard before she shoved the clutch in and braked. The tractor stopped but the engine still roared.

Okay, stick it in neutral and bring the hand throttle back! She managed it and sat there with her hands all sweaty while Bob limped across the yard.

"Excellent," he called up.

"Excellent! I was bloody hopeless. Just about hit the back fence."

Bob nodded. "But you didn't. Did they teach you tractor driving at that nobby school of yours?"

Claire laughed. "Oh sure. That was between the pilot lessons."

"A top dressing plane I hope," Bob said without even a glimpse of a grin. "Now drive back in the shed and do it again."

"What!"

"You heard me."

Claire glowered at him but moved the hand throttle back so the engine just ran quietly and the tractor responded to her foot pressure on the accelerator. She drove sedately back into the shed, stopped almost exactly where the tractor had originally been and turned to look for Bob. He was still across the yard leaning on his walking stick. He signalled for her to return.

This time Claire felt as if she was controlling the tractor not vice versa. She backed out, swung around, stopped half way across the yard and waited while Bob came across.

"Good," he shouted up. "This time you have to go right around then reverse back in front of the trailer."

Claire gulped but managed the manoeuvre reasonably well. It took three movements before she managed to line up with the trailer but she did it. She climbed down and grinned at Bob. "What would you have done if I wasn't here?" she asked.

"Hired a contractor. They're a mite expensive way out here, though. Charge you travelling expenses and would have eaten up a month of the farm's income."

Claire smiled and that warm feeling of being appreciated flooded her body. "We need to bring the tractor back another foot. I doubt if we can pull the trailer forward by hand."

Bob nodded. "I'll hold the tow bar up."

*

With the trailer in tow, Claire swung around inside of the hay shed. This was a gigantic building with no sides. Steel supporting structures held an iron roof above the hay. A third of the hay had gone and loose hay covered the front area. Bob waved her along and indicated where to stop.

"Now you have to take off the trailer and use the loader to pile the hay aboard. Just take it slowly and don't try to pile the bales too high. It won't do the animals any harm to have a little less today. The snow's mainly melted and there is some grass left for them to eat."

"Right," Claire called back and jumped down. She found the trailer bar heavy but was determined to get it off. Half way through lifting it she saw two hands grab the steel framework.

"You have to prove nothing to me, Claire," he said in a whisper. "Remember, we work together and between us we'll manage."

"Oh Bob, " Claire replied. "You're so different."

Bob helped lift the trailer bar aside and lower it to the ground. "Different from whom?" he finally asked.

"Mum, my father, teachers at school. Practically everyone. I tried to please them all but ended up pleasing nobody. It was never good enough. " She shrugged. "I did have one surprise though."

"And who was that?"

"Miss Braithwaite, our headmistress gave me a cuppa tea and scones when I expected another lecture on being a sinner." Claire told Bob about her visit to the office the day she left Princess Alexandra College while he listened without interrupting.

"And your parents?" he asked when she had finished.

"They went bananas when I told them I was pregnant."

"Bananas?"

"They were angry and that's saying it mildly."

"Sometimes the ones closest to us find it hard to be supportive."

"Yeah, Mum went all quiet while Dad called me a whore and practically accused me of walking the streets." Claire sighed. "It wasn't like that."

"No," Bob said. "I'm sure it wasn't. Perhaps some time when we know each other better you might like to talk about it. Of course if it embarrasses you I'm sure Hazel will be a good listener."

Claire studied her companion and again saw genuine eyes focused on her. They were understanding eyes, not ones of just pity or someone being polite.

"I'd like that," she whispered. "You're so like Hazel and Alan. Thank you."

"So let's get that hay loaded," Bob replied. "I still reckon the rain'll be here by lunchtime."

*

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