A girl stood at the far end of the refreshment room, almost beyond the platform itself. Alan walked closer and wondered if this was the one he’d been sent to meet.

She wore clothes that were far too light for the harsh weather but they were of high quality, a long blue cardigan and dark floral dress that, in modern style, barely reached her knees. She had no hat and the modern high-heeled shoes shone in the light.  Her slim body showed no sign of any pregnancy.

Alan hesitated and studied the young woman. This couldn't be her. He expected someone with a swollen stomach stretched beneath a tatty high school raincoat, tartan skirt and flat-heeled shoes. He turned and glanced in the refreshment room. It was empty.

He turned back and, for the first time, noticed the girl's face. She looked utterly forlorn. Perhaps this was her! She certainly looked lost. Alan walked up to her and coughed.

She gasped and swung around.

"Claire?" he asked

"Why yes," she replied, biting on her bottom lip. "I'm Claire Woodham."

Alan held his hand out. "Alan Sloane." He took her cold, somewhat limp hand.

"Oh thank goodness, Mr Sloane. For a moment I thought..." Her voice faded and she stepped back as if her confidence had deserted her.

"Call me Alan."

"Of course... err … Alan. The train was held up twice and I thought nobody would be here..." She hesitated again and stood there shivering.

"Here take this." Alan took his parka off, slipped it around her shoulders and picked up her suitcase. "My Land Rover is right down the other end."

"Thank you." Claire gave him a tiny smile and pulled his parka close around her neck. "I'm sorry to get you out on such a bad night."

"No problem," Alan said. "I'll just drive up to the the telephone box by the post office and phone Hazel. She's the one who worries."

"Mrs Sloane?"

Alan nodded. "I guess you heard that we live out in the country. I'm afraid there's a bit of a drive,."

They reached the Land Rover and he placed her suitcase in the back. "The old girl doesn't look much but she'll get us through if the snow gets deep."

"Snow?" Claire said as she took off the parka and handed it back to Alan. "Thanks for the coat. I never realised it would be so cold here."

"Yeah. If snow's in the air here it'll be settling on the road home. The top table is a higher than Taihape."

A small glimmer of light seemed to appear in Claire's eyes. "I've never been in snow."

Alan smiled. "Come tomorrow and our whole farm will be covered."

"Will it?" Claire whispered. "I guess I have a lot to learn about country life." She lapsed into silence as Alan reversed the Land Rover around and headed a block back to the main road. He stopped by the post office and looked at Claire. "Is there anyone you'd like to ring to say you've arrived?"

Claire's eyes focused on him. That forlorn expression had returned. "No thank you Alan," she whispered. "There's nobody who would be interested."

The actual feeding out was relatively easy with Bob taking over driving through the cattle paddock. He used the hand throttle instead of the accelerator  and his good foot to depress the clutch or use the brake. Claire stood on the trailer, sliced the string off bales and threw the sections to the left or right where the cattle grabbed whole hunks in their mouths. Huge tongues curled around hay and devoured it. The two farm dogs had jumped off earlier and stood guard by the open gate while Jiggy sat beside Claire with her tail wagging.

After the cattle had been given about three quarters of the hay and they went back to the farm track, Claire closed the gate and took over the driving again. She watched apprehensively as Bob maneuvered himself on a wooden box he'd pulled off the trailer and used it as a step to climb aboard. He whistled the dogs who jumped aboard and they were off up the steep section.

Claire felt nervous but managed well on the somewhat muddy track where the snow had melted in all but the shady spots. The chained back wheels coped easily with the slush. She stopped at the gate that was shut from the day before and glanced down the valley. The truck was still there, of course but the hay around had either been eaten or trampled in mud. Sheep were dotted around the hillside like dirty grey objects against the frosty grass.

"Keep going to the top," Bob shouted. "Just take it slowly on the steep part."

Again Claire handled the tractor well though perhaps she went a little too close to the cliff opposite the place where the truck had gone over. They arrived at the top paddock and she stopped. Bob slid off the trailer and smiled at her.

"You did well," he said. "Have a wee rest while I bring the sheep back up."

Before Claire could reply he limped off with the two farm dogs at his side. As usual, Jiggy stayed with her. Bob whistled and yelled while the dogs tore up the track and down the hill. Within moments a closely packed mob of sheep appeared and charged through the gate.

"Good dogs," Bob praised and rubbed each of them around the ears. They sat panting and wagged their tails as if proud of the job they'd done.  "Right, Claire, the last bit and just on time, too," he said and nodded to the hill behind.

Claire turned. Huge almost purple clouds filled half the sky. "Thunder storm?" she called.

"No. Snow. More than yesterday I reckon. We'll feed the sheep and head for home."