Haunted by Love

Chapter 9: What Ruth Didn't Say

The journey to the farm is easy, even in the fading light and the contrast with that first journey is startling. As I drive I try to analyse my feelings, specifically why do I feel like a youngster on a first date. There is an obvious answer of course: Ruth. I'd like to pretend that my feelings for her are entirely platonic and it's true that I love her company and the way she makes me feel when we're together. But I also like it when we cuddle and her kiss felt really good; okay, it felt amazing. Come on, Beth, admit it, at least to yourself: you're wondering what it would be like to do more than kiss and cuddle her. There's a tingling warmth inside me, down below, that suggests my body's up for it, even if my brain's still uncertain.

"A penny for your thoughts," she says and my glance savours the silhouette of her happy face softly lit by the glow from the dashboard and the reflected headlights. Not for the first time I wonder if she can sense my thoughts and feelings.

"I'm just very happy, Ruth, happier than I've been in a long time."

I turn into the yard in front of the farmhouse and park Gumdrop alongside Mister Bump. As I fetch my little backpack from the boot of the car Ruth heads inside. The bags of shopping – the walking boots, waterproofs and jacket – are in the boot too but after a brief debate, I decide to leave them. I lock the car and walk around the house through the chill autumn air to the open back door from which the inviting warm glow of candlelight spills.

Through the door I see Ruth over at the range. "Oh wow, that smells so good!" I tell her as I walk into the warm, cooking-scented air of the kitchen, pushing the door closed behind me and dropping the rucksack. Ruth is now lifting a casserole dish from the oven. She places it on the hob and lifts the lid to stir it as steam curls around her. She slips the lid back on and returns it to the oven, placing two potatoes beside it. Finally she turns to reveal a huge smile on her pretty face and almost skips over to throw her arms around me. I respond in kind and enjoy her in my arms and being in hers.

"I'm so glad you're here," she whispers as I feel her lips on my neck. I feel such happiness and content welling within me.

"You've been decorating," I observe, seeing some of the lines of fresh plaster have gone.

"Yes, though it's just those two walls and they still need a second coat; maybe I'd have got more done if I hadn't come looking for you this afternoon, though I'll also need help to move the dresser to paint that wall," she gestures behind me to the large dresser from which she'd taken the maps that first morning. "Anyway, I want to try and get it done before they finish the electrical stuff, which should be on Thursday, or so they've promised." She concludes with a slightly suspicious tone as if she expects to be let down.

"Have they sorted the plumbing yet?"

"Actually, yes!" she says excitedly, "But until the electricity is on there's still no hot water. Right, I've just put the potatoes in the oven so dinner will be about an hour. How 'bout you come and help me with the milking?" She releases me but only to take my hand and lead me to the shed.

Dinner is delicious: braised pork in cider with apples, baked potatoes and carrots and parsnips with glasses of cider to accompany it all. "Ruth, this is so good," I tell her, pouring myself another glass of cider from the jug on the table. "It's real cold autumn evening food!"

"Thank you. The food's all local stuff and this recipe is proper easy."

"It would have to be for me to attempt it," I chuckle. "I don't cook very much I'm afraid."

"We'll definitely have to change that when you... um." Even in candlelight I can see Ruth's blush; she has said something she didn't intend.

"When I what?" I ask, intrigued. I see pleading in her eyes, begging me not to press her. I take a long sip of cider.