In The Name Of Love

Chapter 19

In the morning I realised how similar to home the small cottage was. Brick was exposed over the hearth, the doors all worked with latches rather than handles, the floor was stone and the windows, even the windows were about the same size as the ones at home. The table in the kitchen was made from thick slabs of wood and there were two long benches rather than chairs. It was in the middle of the kitchen.

Mum would have loved it. I would have loved to have the dining table in the kitchen too, but we couldn't because of Roy. Roy would still be in bed, well, they all would actually because of the time difference. I'd woken early, habit of being on a farm. It was half six, I was shattered and still jet lagged, but I couldn't sleep. If it were half six at home Dad would be out the door already doing the morning milking, Mum would be just rising. She didn't actually have to get up until half eight because she didn't start work until nine, but she got up to see Dad in the morning before she left. She made bread too, made him a packed lunch and saw to it that there was some food in the dining room for Roy's breakfast.

Me? I wouldn't be sat at the table with a mug of tea. I'd be out there collecting eggs and feeding the chickens. I'd be in wellies or work boots, in jeans that were age worn, a t-shirt that wasn't faring much better and I'd have my hair in a messy ponytail or plait. I wouldn't be sitting wondering what the day was going to bring. I'd know. I'd be reading the weather and deciding whether to pick up a jacket or not and then grabbing a basket to put the eggs in.

"You're up early," Mircea said with a yawn.

"Habit. You don't need to be up until eight, go back to bed." 

He sat down next to me and rested his elbows on the table. We sat quietly for about ten minutes before I spoke up.

"We're a long way from home," I sighed.

He took my mug from me, made some new tea and took a sip before passing it to me. "You're already dressed."

"I was gonna have a walk around."

"I'll come –"

"No," I said quietly and got up. I put the mug in his hands.

The door wasn't locked, there wasn't a lock on it so there was a guard stationed outside it. He was leaning against the wall sipping at a thermos mug but straightened up as soon as he saw me. I made some sort of 'ugh' noise and stalked off not really taking note of my direction. I walked and walked and walked until I got to a sheep field. I only stopped because I heard the bleating of spring lambs.

There were only a few in the field, the earliest ones of the year and they were prancing and frolicking without a care in the world. I smiled. Dad would probably stop to watch our lambs after milking the cows. He loved watching them and I'd grown up doing the same. There were buttercups in the field. And daisies. Wild daisies.

A lamb wondered over looking curious. I picked a few flowers, stepped over the wire fence and waited for the lamb. Slowly it walked over, bleating softly and then began to nibble the flowers. She began to eat. I ran a hand over her side and felt a few ribs. Her legs were a little thin too. A ewe was walking over, her mother in all likelihood, and I noted that she was a bit too thin to be producing enough milk. Deep infection was swelling up the better half of her face and the top of her head. Both of them were goners.

I sighed and petted the lamb a little more and then felt a little too depressed to make the effort. If a farm this close to the city was struggling then the ones out in the sticks... the poorer ones... they didn't stand much of a chance either.

"In another year I won't be able to safely breed them either," a Welsh, but automated voice said.

I jumped at the sound and looked around. The guy with the horses, the owner of the farm, was holding his mobile out to me.