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Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection

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Год написания книги
2018
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In no time at all, the flock were teased into the pen, ready for Ben and Mary to weed out the more heavily pregnant sheep and release the others.

With great care and tenderness, though never losing authority, Ben examined each and every one. The heavily-pregnant ewes were given over to Mary, who then led them into the smaller adjoining pen which ran behind the field-gate, while one by one the others were returned to graze the main field.

When the flock had been sorted, Ben and Mary took a breather. ‘I’m proud of you,’ Ben told Mary. ‘You’re a born farmer’s wife.’

The twelve pregnant ewes were next ushered into the smaller paddock nearer to the homestead, where Ben could keep an eye on them. ‘I think we’ve earned a break,’ he yawned.

Mary agreed and the two of them made their way to the cottage, where they kicked off their boots, hung up their coats and washed the smell of sheep and muck off their hands.

Inside the cosy parlour, Ben soon had a cheery fire going, while in the kitchen Mary made the tea. She loved this pretty little place; with its low-beamed ceilings and big open stone fireplace, it was like a cottage you might find on a picture-postcard.

When the fire was roaring up the chimney and each of them had a warming drink, Ben sat in the armchair, while Mary curled up at his feet, her face aglow from the fire’s heat, and a contented smile on her face.

When she lapsed into a long silence, Ben leaned over her shoulder. ‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’

Mary shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

But Ben knew different. ‘Hey! This is me you’re talking to. Something’s playing on your mind. If you’re worried, I’d like to know.’

Reaching up, she took hold of his hand. ‘I’m sorry, Ben.’ She didn’t want to spoil the moment, but she really did need to talk. ‘It’s something you said … about my parents. It’s been a year since we were told, and I still can’t take it all in – Barney sending his family away like that, making them hate him while all the time he was so ill, and in desperate need of them. And Mother, loving him like she did, when all the time he loved someone else.’

‘That must have been so hard for her,’ Ben remarked thoughtfully. ‘To work all the day long with someone you love, and to know that he only has eyes for his wife … although that’s exactly how it should be in a happy marriage.’

Mary had been thinking along the same lines. ‘It must have been Hell for her. And yet she stayed, content enough just to be near him.’

‘She and Barney were together in the end though,’ Ben reminded her. ‘And I for one am grateful for that, because if they hadn’t, then you would never have been born, and I would never have known you.’

‘What will she do, Ben? Will she ever bring herself to tell Barney’s other family what happened? Or will she leave them to live out their lives, in ignorance?’

Trusting him implicitly, she opened her heart. ‘I need to know where they are. I need to meet them and talk with them, about my father, and the way it was. I want them to know what he did for them … that he never stopped loving them, and that he sent them away because he didn’t want them to lose the opportunity of a new life in Boston by finding out that he was terminally ill.’

Since Adam had confided the truth, Mary had thought about little else. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying, Ben? Do you think it’s wrong for me to meet my other family … Thomas and Ronnie, and Susie? As for little Jamie, he was just a baby of two when he drowned, and Mum won’t talk about him. I have to know my roots, where I came from. I want to go back there, to Liverpool where it all happened!’

Her voice broke. ‘Oh Ben! If only I could remember clearly. Why won’t she take me there? Is she trying to protect me? Is she afraid I’ll be hurt by it all? But I’m hurting now, can’t she see that? Why doesn’t she understand that I desperately need to see where it all unfolded, if only to gain some peace of mind? I only know half the story and she won’t talk to me about it. I need to stand in the fields where they worked; I have to walk by the river where they fought to save little Jamie. I have to see where he lies and make my own peace with him.’

Taking her in his arms, Ben quietened her. ‘I know it’s hard, but it’s hard for your mother too. She lived through it, and now she’s having to live with the consequences of it all. Give her time. It will take a lot of strength for her to face it all again, but your mother is a strong, determined woman. She will go back. She will show you where it all happened, I know she will. Be patient, my darling. She needs to be sure; when the time comes for her to face all those demons, she’s bound to want you there beside her. Because you’re hers and Barney’s child, and because going back will be one of the hardest things she’s ever had to do.’

The two of them talked a while longer, until his embrace tightened and the kisses grew more urgent, and soon, right there on the rug, they made love for the very first time. It was a joyful, fulfilling experience, a bonding of heart and body, when the love between them was forged even stronger.

Afterwards, with passion melted and bodies exhausted, they lay in the warm glow of the fire, thinking and dreaming of their future together. They didn’t speak for a long time, because their hearts and minds were in harmony. There was no need for words.

After a time, while Mary was dressing, Ben ventured outside. A moment later, he was calling her. ‘MARY! Quickly – come and see!’

Not knowing what to expect, she ran out to find him beckoning to her, his face alight with excitement.

‘Look!’ He pointed to one of the ewes. Head down, almost on her knees, and with the whole of her weight pressed against the fence, she was in labour, and seemingly oblivious to their presence.

The next few minutes were magical. Inch by inch, the newborn appeared. Bathed in fluid, the lamb wormed its way out until, with the slightest plop, it slid to the ground. For what seemed an age, the mother did not move. Instead she stood, head hanging, resting. Then suddenly she turned to her offspring and began licking away the slimy, covering membrane.

Moments later, the lamb stood up, its legs unsteady and its head seeming far too large for its tiny body. It gave itself a shake, fell over and struggled up again, and in an incredibly short time, it was searching out its mammy’s teat.

Mary was thrilled. ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘Have you never seen a lamb born before?’ Ben had seen it many times now, and each time was just as wonderful as the last.

‘I’ve never seen one actually being born,’ Mary admitted. ‘I’ve walked the fields at different times and I’ve seen the newborns playing and skipping, but I’ve never actually seen a ewe giving birth.’

‘Have you ever touched a newborn lamb?’

‘Never.’

‘Would you like to?’

She was surprised. ‘Won’t the mother be hostile?’

Ben shook his head. ‘No.’

‘Then yes, I’d like that.’

They waited a while, until mother and newborn had bonded and the young one had its fill of milk. Then, with great care and talking to the mother as he went, Ben led Mary across the paddock.

He did not take the newborn straight away. Instead he gestured for Mary to be still; he murmured to the sheep that he was just as proud of her baby as she was, and that he meant no harm except to show her off and then return her. But the mother displayed little interest in them, and when he reached down to lift the newborn into his arms, she merely stood and watched, almost as though she knew he meant no harm.

At first, the little one struggled, but Ben secured the squirming bundle and holding it towards Mary, told her to smell its coat.

Nervously, Mary leaned towards the tiny creature and sniffed at its coat. ‘It smells warm, and tangy … like fresh-made marmalade,’ she laughed. ‘Can I touch her?’

When he nodded, she reached out and stroked her fingers over its fleece; the sensation was like nothing she had ever experienced. Beneath her touch, the tight curls of fleece felt hard and wiry. She was amazed. ‘I thought it would be soft to the touch,’ she said in wonderment.

Before returning the lamb to its mother, Ben dipped a finger in the fluid which had cradled the newborn and was now lying in little pockets in the grass. He then wiped it over the back of the lamb and returned it to its anxious mother, who ran her tongue over its back before leading it away, contented.

Mary was curious. ‘Why did you do that?’

Ben explained, ‘Sometimes, a ewe will reject a lamb if she’s not sure it’s hers. We’ve both handled the lamb and we’ve left our smell on it. By wiping the fluid on its back, I made sure she could smell and recognise her newborn, so there would be no doubt in her mind.’

This had been a day that Mary would always remember. She had made love with her husband-to-be and witnessed the miracle of birth, almost as a sign of the babies that she might have, one day in the future. But for now, she was anxious to get home and talk with her mother. For the moment, there were other important issues that needed to be resolved.

Lucy saw them arrive. ‘They’re back now,’ she told Adam, who had been polishing the car and was now enjoying the sandwich Lucy had brought him.

‘Good!’ Finishing his sandwich, he excused himself. ‘I’ll away and get out of these overalls.’

‘Don’t be long, will you?’ Strange how with every passing day, Lucy needed him to be more a part of everything she did.

Adam was thrilled but doubtful. ‘Are you sure you want me to stay?’

‘Yes, Adam, I’m sure.’ Lucy had no doubts. ‘You’ve always been a part of all this.’

‘Right then. I’ll go and get washed up. Give me ten minutes or so. Oh, and thanks for the sandwich.’ He handed her the plate. ‘It was tasty as always, though a bit more pickle would not have come amiss.’ With that he gave a mischievous wink and hurried away.
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