‘Blast it!’ Steve cursed as the screwdriver slipped from the screw head and dug into his hand ripping the skin, blood almost immediately started to ooze from expose flesh. ‘Ron! Ron!’ His voice echoed around the farm causing ears to prick up and heads to appear over stable doors, whinnying in protest of being disturbed from their afternoon slumber.
‘Where is the lazy git? Trust him not to be about when he’s needed.’ Steve muttered to himself, putting his hand to his mouth and sucking at the blood.
‘Ron!’ he shouted once more as his workmate’s red hair appeared over the top of the stable’s half door.
‘Okay. Okay. I’m ‘ere! What’s the matter, mate?’
‘Where the hell have you been?’
‘In the barn, restacking the bales.’
‘In the barn, hiding from work, more like.’ Steve retorted, the pain in his hand aggravating his annoyance with Ron. ‘Weaver’s manger’s busted again, God knows what he does? This is the third time I’ve had to repair this month. Thought screwing it together with extra wood might strengthen it better.’
‘What do you need me for then?’ Ron said opening the door and walking nonchalantly into the stall, a piece of hay stuck in his mouth as well as his hair and clothes giving away the fact that he had been laying and sleeping probably in the hay. ‘I need you to hold the bloody thing.’ Steve said taking a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and wrapping it around his hand. ‘While I screw it together.’
‘Dora says you’re good at that!’ Ron said raising his eyebrows and grinning inanely. ‘Ron! I’ll…’ Steve bit back a retort just as Dora enter the stall carrying Copper’s saddle over her arm.
‘What was that, Ron?’ Dora asked overhearing her name.
‘Nothing.’ Steve said quickly. ‘Ron’s just being a prat, as usual.’
‘You okay, Steve. Thought I heard you shouting, good grief!’ Dora exclaimed noticing the temporary bandage on Steve’s hand that was now almost red with blood. ‘It’s nothing, Dora, just me being careless. It looks worst than it is. I’ll go and put a plaster on it in a minute.’
‘Are you sure, Steve. There’s an awful lot of blood. You know I was reading somewhere recently about tetanus, and thinking that it would be a good idea for us all to get jabs. It’s so easy for wounds to get infected with the work we do. What do you think?’
‘ What are you doing with the saddle? Are you going somewhere?’ Steve asked trying to change the subject. Injections weren’t his most favourite of things, he didn’t mind so much having them but it was the thought of them he wasn’t keen on.
‘Steve. I told you yesterday, I promised to go and help Angela Bruce with her new pony, it’s a bit of handful at the moment and she wants her children to be able to ride it. Want to come with me?’
He pulled a thoughtful face, knitting his eyebrows together in a frown. ‘Now let's see. Go to Angela Bruce’s and endure her whinging and moaning about her mother and the kids or stay here and bleed to death? Um… that’s a tough one. I think I’ll choose to stay here and bleed to death!’
‘Steve! That’s not nice, she’s just lonely.’
‘Lonely! Huh! What with 5 kids.’ Ron chipped in.
‘Yeah. And right little brats they are too!’ Steve added.
‘Well, it’s not easy for her, having to move to that cottage in the middle of nowhere when her mother became ill. And her husband away with the Army most of the time.’ ‘I heard she wasn’t that lonely.’ Ron quipped.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Come on, girl. Where do you think all those kids come from? Like you said her ‘usband’s away a lot!’
‘Ron!’
‘Well, that’s what I ‘eard.’ He leaned back on the stall and stuck another piece of hay in his mouth.
‘Look, I must go.’ Dora said as she made her way to Copper’s stable. Steve followed her.
‘Don’t be too long, will you?’ Steve took hold of her arm and gently turned her towards him, his eyes catching hers.
‘No, I’ll try not to be.’ She smiled at him; she wished he didn’t look at her with those sexy dark eyes just as she had to go out.
‘Please, don’t.’ Steve pleaded softly.
‘Why are you concerned about how long I’ll be, Steve?’ She asked puzzled.
He shrugged. ‘No reason, just don’t want you to be late home that’s all.’
‘Ah, Ain’t that sweet. He pines for you when you not here, Dora.’ Ron voice came from the other stall.
‘Shut up, big ears.’
‘Oh, Steve, don’t you be too long either, otherwise I, your little Ronnie, might start missing you too!’ Ron called out laughing.
‘Ron, give over.’ Steve said exasperated as he and Dora looked at each other and tried not to chuckle.
Steve pulled at the handkerchief on his hand as he watched Dora place the saddle on Copper and tightened the girth.
‘Steve, keep an eye on Slugger, will you? He certainly isn’t himself today. He’s hardly spoken and seems really subdued.’
‘I know, I’ve been concerned about him all day too!’ Steve thought back to that morning when he and Dora had got up to discover that Slugger was still in bed and didn’t appear until sometime later. He wouldn’t be drawn into what was wrong.
‘When was the last time we were up before him? It’s so unlike him to laze in bed.’
‘I know, I wonder what’s matter? We need to talk to him, Steve. Perhaps later, yes?’ ‘Yeah, okay.’
As Dora led Copper into the yard she chided Steve about his injured hand.
‘Please get that seen to now, will you, Steve? Why don’t you let me do it before I go?’
‘Don’t fuss, girl. I’ll do it in a minute.’
‘Do it now!’
‘Yes, Ma’am.’ He said sarcastically, grinning at her as she lent forward and kissed his lips lightly.
Dora turned away from him and mounted Copper. ‘See you in a bit.’ She called over her shoulder as she rode out of the gate. Steve shut it behind her, gazing after her for a few seconds before going back into the stable to Ron. He’d see to his hand when they had finished the manger.
Despite Ron’s help, for a change, the job took longer than he had hoped. The awkwardness of working with the temporary dressing on his hand that kept slipping off didn’t help.

Steve left Ron to clear up in the stall while he went into the house to put a proper dressing on his injured hand but first he had something to collect from his old room above the tack room.
Walking out into the yard once more, a large paper bag tucked carefully under his arm, he caught sight of Slugger replenishing the donkeys’ water from the trough.
‘I’m just going to the house and I’ll put the kettle on. Okay, Slugs’
The older man looked up briefly at Steve. ‘Ta, son’ was his only reply before returning to the chore in hand.
Steve walked into the farmhouse puzzling over Slugger and concerned about his odd behaviour. Dora was right they needed to talk to him. But that was for later, Steve proceeded up the stairs taking two at a time and disappeared into his and Dora’s room, spending a few minutes there before descending the stairs once more and continuing into the kitchen where he put the kettle on the stove.
Removing the blood soaked handkerchief he washed his hand under the tap and pulled a face at the sight of the wound. The screwdriver had penetrated into the flesh between his thumb and index finger and it was deeper than he had thought. Taking the handkerchief off had caused the wound to bleed again, pooling at the bottom of the sink.
Grabbing the towel from the rail he tried to pat it dry and stem the flow of blood. It was obvious to Steve that an ‘elastoplast’ wasn’t going to be enough so taking the first aid box from the shelf, he, with difficulty, cut a piece of lint and doubling it over taped it in place, wrapping the plaster tape several times around his hand to keep it there and secure it properly.
‘That looks okay, Steve, me old mate. Right, now tea.’ He said out loud to himself as he picked up the kettle and started to pour the boiling water into the teapot. ‘Cor, blimey, I’m getting as bad as old Slugs talking to myself.’
Pouring the boiling water into the teapot, he was startled by shout from the yard, causing the water to miss the pot completely and splash on to the table. He jumped back to avoid the scalding water. He turned abruptly and look out of the window to see Ron waving frantically at him. At first Steve thought he was just messing and was just about to ignore him when then he realised that something was wrong. He dropped the kettle quickly in the hearth and ran out of the kitchen only to be met by an agitated Ron at the gate.
‘Steve.’ He gasped. ‘It’s Slugger, he’s collapsed. Quick!’ Ron grabbed Steve’s sleeve and pulled him with force towards the donkey’s pen.
‘Christ!’ Steve exclaimed when he reached the gate of the pen. Slugger was lying face down in the bedding, the upturned water pail by the side of him, water soaking into the fresh straw. Bella, the young donkey who had recently foaled, was nuzzling at Slugger’s hat, her young one by her side.
‘Ron! Get the donkeys out of here.’ Steve shouted as he knelt down beside the older man’s still, almost lifeless, body. His weather beaten complexion was devoid of colour. Steve’s heart began to race as he checked Slugger’s breathing and pulse and was relieved to find them both, even if the heart rate appeared to be slightly on the slow side or was it? Steve, not being a first-aider, wasn’t sure.
‘He’s not… Is he, Steve?’ Ron, having shut the bewildered donkeys in their stable, was also now down on his knees in the bedding, gently stroking Slugger’s back. Panic showed in his voice and on his face.
‘No.’ Steve said quietly, knowing instinctively what his workmate had been thinking, he had feared it too when he first saw him. ‘Stay with him, Ron. I’ll ring for an ambulance.’ Even before the sentence was finished Steve was sprinting across the yard to the farmhouse disappearing through the door within seconds. He reappeared several minutes later with a blanket under his arm.
‘It’s on its way.’ He said as he ran into the pen once more and handed the blanket to a pale and worried Ron.
While they waited for the ambulance, the two friends paced the yard and looked out for the emergency vehicle, taking it turns to sit with and comfort Slugger as he gradually regained consciousness. Concern and frustration began to set in as they realised there was nothing else they could do for their old friend but stay with him until help arrived. The disadvantage of living here, out in the middle of the beautiful Yorkshire countryside, was the distance from the local town and help in times like these.
After what seemed like hours the ambulance duly appeared, the siren sounding its imminent arrival minutes before it pulled up in the yard. Steve, with his hands stuffed in his pockets and Ron, who was biting at his nails nervously, stood shoulder to shoulder, as if somehow supporting each other, watching the ambulance men closely, worried frowns on their faces. Within minutes Slugger had been given oxygen, bringing colour back to his face, put on to a stretcher and transferred to the waiting ambulance.
Steve sighed heavily as he stood helpless and alone leaning on the gate for support, Ron having insisted on going with Slugger to the hospital. He stared after the vehicle as it sped down the drive, it’s blue light flashing, it’s siren wailing, willing Slugger to be okay as it disappeared out of sight around the corner on to the main road.

In the study Steve frantically searched the desk, sending papers and magazines flying, eventually finding the scrap of paper with Angela Bruce’s telephone number on it. It rang for what seemed like ages before it was answered, unfortunately by one of the younger children, who told a frustrated Steve that the ‘nice horse lady had gone ages ago.’ Had it been Angela herself who’d answered she would have told Steve that Dora had gone to old Mrs Collins’ place, not half a mile from Follyfoot delivering something for her on her way back to the farm.
Steve slammed down the phone in frustration, making the receiver rock on its stand. ‘Where the hell was she?’
He banged the study door as he walked angrily out of the house and into the yard. He scanned the fields and track for Dora, there was no sign of her. Trust her to do her Good Samaritan bit today of all days. Hadn’t he asked not to be long but where horses were concerned Dora was very single minded, even forgetting her promise to him. He let the poor donkeys back into their pen and tried to keep himself occupied by tidying up the yard but he just couldn’t concentrate, he couldn’t stop thinking of Slugger and hoping that he was all right. If anything should happen to him, well, it didn’t bear thinking about. He should be by the phone in case Ron rang but he also needed to keep an eye out for Dora. They had to get to get to the hospital as quick as possible, if only Dora would come home. He certainly couldn’t go without her; she’d never forgive him. Besides the news needed to come from him face to face, there was no way he just leave her to find out by a note. He knew she would be devastated. The sound of hooves made him turn around abruptly as Dora trotted in through the gate. A smile appeared on her face when she saw him.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ He turned on her as she halted Copper and dismounted.
‘I know I’m a little late. I’m sorry but I promised Angela I would take a kitten to Mrs Collins.’ Dora loosen the girth on Copper’s saddle.
‘Dora.’ Steve quietened his voice and made a move towards her.
Dora continued. ‘You should see them, Steve, they are so cute, especially the little black one, anyway I had to take a tabby one to Mrs Collins as I said. Gosh, what a tussle I had with it, wriggling in the bag all the way. It nearly escaped once or twice.’ ‘Dora.’ The frustration started to show on his face as well as in his voice.
‘And you know what she’s like, made me stay have tea and some of her delicious fruitcake. She sent some for you and…’ She rambled on.
‘Dora! Please shut up.’ He shouted at her loudly, more in exasperation rather than anger.
‘Come on, I said I was sorry; there’s no need to be quite so angry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’ She reached out to put her arms around his neck but he pushed her away, she looked at him confused and hurt. ‘Steve!’
‘Dora, girl.’ He said more quietly. ‘Slugger’s in hospital.’
‘What.’ She said disbelievingly not quite taking what he had said.
‘I said, Slugger’s in hospital. He collapsed. Ron’s with him.’
‘No! No! Steve.’ The colour drained from her face. ‘When, how?’
‘Quite a while ago. I tried to get you at the Bruces’ but one of the kids said you’d already gone.’ His dark eyes look straight into hers, noting the tears welling up in them.
‘Come here, love.’ He held out his arms and she fell gratefully into them as the tears rolled down her cheeks, dampening Steve’s shirt collar and his neck. He held her for several minutes, stroking her hair and back, making comforting noises.
‘Come on, girl.’ He let her go and she dried her face with her hands. ‘We need to see to Copper quickly then get to the hospital.’ I just hope we’re not too late, he thought.

At the hospital, they found Ron sitting in the casualty department’s waiting room; his head bowed and in his hands was Slugger’s woollen hat, his fingers casually toying with the rim.
‘Ron.’ Dora said quietly placing her hand gently on his arm. He jumped up out of his seat.
‘God. Am I glad to see you two. Where have you been?’
‘Sorry. We’ll explain later. How is he?’
‘I don’t know, they’re doing tests or something.’ He looked as if he was on the brink of tears, his face pale, his brow furrowed with worry. Dora put her arms around him and hugged him. Ron rested his head against hers as he hugged her back. He relaxed a little; glad to be able to share the burden of the wait with his friends.
‘Are you okay, mate?’ Steve asked, resting his hand gently on Ron’s back in a comforting gesture, his face showing concern for his friend.
‘Yeah, just fed up waiting. Not knowing.’
‘Have you asked anybody?’
‘Of course, I have.’ Ron snapped at Steve. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to…I’m just…Oh you know.’
‘It’s okay, mate.’ Steve said patting his back once more. He knew only too well what his friend was feeling, his own heart was aching at this moment.
The three friends waited for seemed like hours, each of them alternately pacing the corridor restlessly to avoid sitting on the uncomfortable chairs for too long. Ron fetched coffees from the vending machine but they went largely untouched and were left to go cold on a nearby table.
Steve read the notice board for the umpteenth time; one poster showing the face of Jimmy Saville urging car users to ‘clunk, click every trip’, another warning that ‘smoking may damage your health’ and one about child immunisation. ‘What on earth was he reading that for?’ Thought Steve to himself as he turned to check that Dora and Ron were okay. In doing so he nearly bumped into a nurse who was walking by, apologising he continued to walk on over to Dora but the nurse place a hand on his arm to stop him.
‘Steve! It is Steve, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, I ….’ Steve suddenly realised that he recognised her. She had been a trainee nurse who had looked after him several years ago when he had broken his leg and had spent several days in the hospital. ‘Susie.’
‘You remembered me. It was a long time ago. How are you? You look really er… great!’ She blushed as she recalled how she’d had a crush on her handsome young patient then. He was even more fanciable now, she thought.
‘I’m fine, thanks. And you?’
‘Fine. Busy as usual, I work here in casualty now. Is anybody seeing to that for you?’ She replied her eyes enlightening on his hand, noting that it wasn’t professionally bandaged.
‘What! Oh no, I’m, we’re here for a friend.’ He gestured to Dora and Ron sitting several yards away. Susie looked at Dora and smiled brightly at her. Her smile ceased abruptly as she felt Dora’s stare bite into her. Steve continued telling Susie about Slugger and how they were anxious for news of him.
‘Look, I’ll see if I can find something out for you, if you like?’ Susie said turning back to Steve, choosing to ignore Dora’s icy look.
‘That would great, thank you.’ Steve returned to Dora and Ron as the pretty nurse walked along the corridor towards the consulting room.
‘Did you hear that, Susie going to see if she find about Slugger.’
‘Oh is she. And who’s Susie?’ Dora asked curtly.
‘She’s the nurse I was talking to.’
‘I gathered that. But how do you know her?’
‘ She looked after me when I was here with my broken leg years ago.’ He retorted back to her.
‘Oh!’ Was all she could think of to say?
‘What does it matter, Dora?’ Steve said irritated at Dora obvious jealousy. ‘You want to know about Slugger, don’t you? Surely that’s all that matters at the moment.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Dora said quietly. ‘Sorry.’ She got up and took hold of Steve’s arm. He gave her a small smile; they were all a bit on edge at the moment, that’s all.

Within five minutes Susie was back with news of their old friend.
‘Mr Jones is okay. It seems he may have had a mild stroke. He’s conscious and has been talking to the doctors and nurses. He’s aware of where he is and why. That’s a good sign. I told him you were all here.’ She glanced at the three of them in turn, noting that if Dora look wasn’t exactly warm it was certainly less cold than it had been. ‘He seemed pleased to know that.’
‘Thanks.’ said Ron. ‘When can we see him?’ he added quickly.
‘Well, the doctor will want to speak to you. He’ll be out in a while. Don’t worry, I’m sure he will be all right.’ She placed her hand once more on Steve’s arm in a friendly way. Too friendly, thought Dora but tactfully kept quiet.
‘Thanks again, Susie. Nice to have seen you again.’
‘You too, Steve. Must go. See you around, maybe.’ She glanced quickly at Dora as she left them and disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

They didn’t have to wait long before the doctor appeared.
‘Mr Jones is doing fine. As the nurse may have told you, we believe he’s had a small stroke. Nothing to worry about, though. He’s responding well and as far as we can tell there doesn’t seem to be any lasting effects. He’s in good health for his age. He’s an ex boxer, I gather. But we do want to keep him in for a few days and then he’ll need plenty of rest.’
All three of them heaved a sigh of relief. And then tried to speak at once. It was Dora who ended up asking the question they all wanted to know.
‘Can we see him, please?’
‘Well, he resting at the moment and we normally only let two people in at once.’
‘Oh, please.’ Pleaded Dora. ‘We’ll only be a minute.’
‘It’s okay, Dora. You and Ron go, I’ll wait here, just tell him I’m thinking of him.’ Steve told them.
‘No.’ chipped in Ron. ‘We all want to see him, together.’ He glared at the doctor, then sighed and asked more quietly. ‘Please, Doc!’
‘Okay.’ The doctor said relenting. ‘But just for a few minutes. He’s sedated so will appear sleepy.’ They followed him into Slugger’s room.
The three friends gasped when they saw Slugger. He was propped up in bed; wires attached him to monitors displaying his heart rate and breathing. He looked quite old and frail but suddenly as if sensing they were there opened his eyes and smiled at them.
‘Oh, Slugger.’ Dora rushed to his bedside and carefully took up his hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze.
‘You had us worried.’ Ron said swallowing the lump in his throat as he made his way to the other side of the bed.
‘Yeah, you did.’ Echoed Steve, who was standing besides Dora resting a hand on her shoulder. ‘You sure you okay, Slugs.’
‘I feel a little groggy, like I’ve gone a couple of rounds in the ring but not too bad. Sorry, I’ve been a bit of a nuisance.’
‘Slugs, don’t be daft, mate. We’re all just relieved you’re okay. Steve and I thought you were dead earlier. You frightened the life out of us, I can tell yer. Glad you’re not, though.’ Ron said trying to made the situation more light-hearted.
‘Ron.’ Steve scowled at him.
‘It’s okay, son.’ Slugger smiled at Steve, reassuring him that he hadn’t taken offence at Ron’s comment. He was touched at the obvious concern and worry etched on the faces of these three young people, he was very fond of all them and was glad to have them care about him, they were his family.
They stayed for a while, longer than perhaps they should as he was now becoming tired and his eyes were becoming heavy. Dora, Steve and Ron decided it was time for them to leave each saying goodbye to him quietly. Dora leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly and Steve and Ron each took hold of his hand and gently squeezed it reassuringly.
‘Take care, Slugger. We’ll see you tomorrow’ Dora said.
‘You get some rest and concentrate on getting better, okay.’
‘Yeah, see yer later, Slugs, me old mate.’ Ron said as he turned slowly towards the door.

Late that evening, after Ron had eventually if reluctantly gone home, Dora and Steve made their way wearily upstairs to bed. It had a long day and they were both feeling tired and down, their bodies ached from the stresses of the day. Their one consolation was that Slugger was not as bad as had at first been feared and was likely to make a full recovery.
Steve headed straight for the bathroom as Dora opened the door to their room.
‘Steve!’ Dora’s voice made him stop abruptly, one foot in the bathroom doorway, as he suddenly remembers what he had done in their bedroom earlier that day.
‘Christ.’ He turned and followed Dora. She was stood just inside the doorway, a confused smile on her face as she scanned the room, taking in the candles carefully placed on every vacant surface and then her eyes enlightened on the vase of red roses standing on her bedside table.
‘Sorry, girl, I’d forgotten, what with Slugger and all that. Happy Valentine’s Day! Although maybe not so happy now!’ He shrugged.
‘Oh, Steve.’
‘Seeing all the stuff in the shop windows this morning when I was in town reminded me that I’m not very good at romance and don’t do romantic things for you. Oh, I don’t know. Don’t show you enough how special you are to me and how much I love you. I remembered you once saying you love a room full of candles and flowers, so here you are.’ He gestured around the room.
‘Steve, it’s lovely. But Steve, you are romantic and do romantic things, you know.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like the surprise picnic on that beautiful day last September and the poem at Christmas, oh, and what about when you found the first snowdrops a few weeks ago and knowing how much I love them, put some in a little glass on my bedside table. And you tell me everyday that you love me just by a look or a touch.’ She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.
‘So I’ve spent all this money for nothing then.’ He said sarcastically and grinned at her.
‘I wouldn’t say that.’ She let him go and picking up the matches he’d left on the dresser pressed them into his hand. ‘I’m just going to the bathroom, be back in five minutes’ she smiled cheekily back at him.
Returning a few minutes later she found the bedroom bathed in soft candlelight and Steve by the window undressing, awkwardly trying to undo his shirt buttons with one hand. She walked up to him and taking his injured hand drew it up to her face and gently kissed it then pulling away his other hand she slowly undid the remaining buttons. Helping each other out of their clothes they both fell gratefully into bed and although tired, sleep didn’t overcome them until sometime later.
The instant Dora awoke she sense Steve wasn’t next to her, she turned on to her side and stared at the empty pillow, at the same time slipping a hand under the covers and feeling the half of the bed where he had slept, it was still warm, he hadn’t been gone long. It felt odd to wake up without him, even though he’d only been sharing her bed for four months, she was used to waking up with his warm body beside her and more often than not, his arms wrapped around her, holding her. She could hardly remember what it had been like to sleep alone; it was if Steve had always been there.
Entering the kitchen she found him staring out of the window into the yard that was still shrouded in darkness. Despite the night being bitterly cold, he hadn’t dressed but was wearing only his towelling robe tied loosely round his lean frame. In his hand he held Slugger’s hat that Ron had carefully, as if it would break, placed on the back of the old armchair the evening before, waiting the old man’s return.
Without speaking she quietly walked up to Steve and taking her place beside him slipped her arm through his, gently caressing his forearm. He glanced down at her his eyes greeted her warmly. So in tune with each other thoughts were they that they didn’t need words. She knew that he was thinking of Slugger and how he was more like a father to Steve, a father Steve had never had or at least couldn’t remember. She knew too that he’d had a huge steadying influence on Steve, not only calming him when his temper got the better of him but advising him, guiding him and encouraging him. Slugger had helped him over his dilemma with his mother at a time when he felt he couldn’t burden Dora with his problems and he supported them both in their, sometimes unpredictable relationship, even, they suspected, recognising that they loved each other before they themselves did.
‘He will be all right, won’t he, Steve?’ Dora said breaking the silence of the night. ‘Of course.’ He said reassuringly ‘I’m sure he will. I know he will.’ He needed to convince himself as well as Dora. He pulled her to him, tightening his arm around her. ‘He’s a tough ol’ cookie, but….’ He paused and shook his head.
‘But what?’ Dora asked her hazel eyes staring up at him.
Steve sighed deeply before answering. ‘Well, we have to accept, Dora, that he’s not a young man any more. For goodness sake, he’s over twice our ages. Maybe this was a warning for him slow down, to take things easier. We’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t over work himself once he’s better and take some of the responsibility for this place off him. We seem to take it for granted that he’ll take care of the cooking and most of the cleaning of the house, while we concentrate on the horse and farm work. And he does more than his fair share of that too!’
‘Oh Steve, it wouldn’t be the same without him here. He will stay won’t he? He won’t retire and go off somewhere else.’ She thought of her uncle and how after his illness he had become an infrequent visitor to the farm, relinquishing the running of it to her. ‘No. Where would he go, Dora? This is his home and he belongs here with us.’
‘Yes, he does, doesn’t he? Always.’ Dora gave a big sigh and lent her tired head against his chest. ‘The fact that Uncle isn’t around very much any more is bad enough but to lose Slugger, it doesn’t bear thinking about. I couldn’t cope if I lost anyone else. I don’t know what Ron would do without him, either. I think today affected him quite badly. I was awfully worried about him when he went home.’
‘Me too!’ He felt Dora shiver in his arms. ‘Hey, come on, you’re cold. Why don’t you go back to bed.’
‘I’m all right, really. I could do with of cup of tea though. Want one?’
‘Sure, why not? I’ll get the fire going, eh.’
With the fire, that had been banked up well the evening before, blazing away and mugs of streaming tea sitting in the hearth they snuggled up together in the worn but comfy armchair. Dora sat on Steve’s lap, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and Steve’s hand sought the warmth of her skin as it crept inside her dressing gown to her flat stomach. They laughed as they reminisced about Slugger and the funny things he said and did. And about the good-humoured banter that goes on between him and Ron.
The kitchen was now filled with warmth and light from the fire as they sat together drinking their tea in companionable silence, Dora’s head resting on Steve’s shoulder, her eyes closed. Suddenly a notion came into her head, she open her eyes and sat up.
‘I’ve been thinking about Ron. I have an idea. See what you think?’
Steve, who had been staring into the fire, turned to face her, a puzzled frown on his face. She proceeded to tell him of her plan for Ron and how they could get him to agree to it.
‘Well.’ She said after she had finished.
‘It’s a good idea. Just have to see what Ron thinks.’
Dora looked up at the clock on the mantle piece, the hands told her that it was not even quarter to six yet.
‘Steve. It’s still early, how about going back to bed for a while.’
‘Nah! I don’t think I could get back to sleep now.’
‘Who said anything about sleeping.’ Slipping a hand inside his robe and stroking his chest, she gave him a mischievous look.
‘Oh!’ His eyes twinkled under his raised eyebrows. Dora felt a little shameful, thinking of sex at a time like this but she needed to feel the pleasure of Steve close to her and within her. Needed him to send the pain and worry away, if only for a short while.
As they rose from the chair, the sound of a motorbike engine stopped them in their tracks, the noise shattering the quiet dawn. Suddenly headlights appeared lighting up the back wall of the kitchen then disappeared as the engine ceased and out of the window in the dim light of the coming morning, they saw Ron dismount his bike. ‘What the ….?’ Steve exclaimed. ‘What on earth is Ron doing here at this hour?’
He opened the back door as Ron breezed up the path.
‘Morning.’ Ron called out pulling off his gloves and stuffing them in the back pocket of his jeans.
‘Ron, it’s not even six o’clock. What are you doing here?’
‘I couldn’t sleep.’ He strode past Steve and entered the kitchen. ‘I see you two couldn’t either, unless of course.’ He eyed their dressing gowns. ‘You were just going to bed.’ He winked at Dora.
Steve and Dora looked at each other and smiled wanly. Steve shrugged his shoulders and mouthed ‘sorry’ behind Ron’s back as Dora tried to hide a snigger.
‘No.’ Steve sighed. ‘We’ve been up a while.’
‘Oh, right.’ Said Ron. ‘Any chance of a cuppa?’ he picked up the bottle of milk and poured some into a mug.

The three friends worked doubly hard that morning, even Ron excelled himself. The horses appeared surprise if not a little put out at being shifted from the night’s slumber so early, to allow for the stables to be cleaned. They were pacified by an earlier than normal breakfast and a few extra rations.
Appearing from different ends of the stables Steve and Ron met up by the farm gate.
‘Hey, mate. I could really do with me breakfast. I’m starvin’.’ Ron said as he slapped Steve on the back. He was cheerful on the outside but Steve knew his mate was still worried about Slugger.
‘I afraid, mate, it will just toast and cereal today.’ Steve said apologetically.
‘That’s okay. I’ll have six rounds of toast instead of me usual three. Hey, where’s Dora?’
‘She said she was going to ring the hospital to find out Slugger was, but that was awhile go.’
As they opened the back door the smell of burning hit them and a cloud of black smoke billowed out the kitchen door.
‘Dora.’ Steve called, coughing and spluttering as he breathed in the smoke. ‘Are you all right?’
‘What are you doing, girl?’ said Ron wafting the smoke from in front of his face. ‘I’m cooking breakfast.’ Dora replied innocently.
‘WHAT!’ the two young men shouted in unison then burst out laughing as Dora stood by the stove looking sheepish. Still laughing Steve heaved open the ancient sash windows to let out the smoke as Ron rushed to the rear back door to allow the through draught to help it on its way.
‘Sorry! I’m useless at cooking.’ She said, a resigned look on her face.
‘Yes, you are.’ Steve smiled at her assuring her that no nastiness was meant and pulled her into his arms to comfort her. ‘But it’s not the end of the world, is it, girl.’ He pushed her hair back off her face, gently stroking her cheek.
‘I don’t know.’ Ron said in between fits of laughter. ‘I think it might be the end of the world for these eggs!’ He removed the blackened frying pan from the stove.
They managed to salvage some of the bacon and cooked more eggs and sat eating the somewhat smaller than normal portions of the charred remains of breakfast while Dora relayed her phone call about Slugger.
‘He has apparently had a comfortable night and has eaten breakfast this morning.’
‘I actually envy Slugger his hospital food today.’ Ron said trying to fork his last piece of overdone bacon without success. ‘Hey, Steve, perhaps old Slugs can sneak us some out tomorrow.’ Picking up the rasher with his fingers and stuffing it his mouth.
Steve laughed, as did Dora, taking Ron’s remark with good humour.
‘Dora. Steve. Can I ask you two something?’ Ron said quietly.
‘Sure, Ron. What is it?’ Dora asked puzzled at the apprehensive look on Ron’s face.
‘I’ve been thinking.’
‘I wondered what the noise was.’ Steve chipped in sarcastically.
‘Ha Ha. Seriously, I been wondering, well, while Slugger’s recovering if it might be handier if I stayed, er, here at the farm.’
‘Sleep here you mean.’
‘Well, yeah. It means I’ll be here to help in the evenings and first thing in the morning. I thought I could stay in your old room again, Steve, like I did at Christmas. If that’s okay with you, mate?’ He gave Steve a look asking for his approval to use the loft room that would always be known as Steve’s even though he no longer slept there.
‘Look, mate, I’ve told you before it’s not my room any more, but..’ he glanced at Dora and they grinned at each other remembering that had been just what they had discussed earlier that morning. ‘We think it’s great idea. Don’t we, Dora?’
‘Yes.’ She got up and wrapped her arms around Ron’s neck, hugging him. ‘You’ll have no excuse to be late, no sleeping in. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Oh I promise not to be late up if you promise not to cook breakfast again.’
‘Okay then, clever clogs, you can do it tomorrow.’ She laughed letting him go and picking up the dirty plates.
‘All right, I will.’
‘I believe that when I see it.’ Steve said as he buttered his toast.

It was decided that they would collect Ron’s ‘stuff’ on their way back from visiting Slugger that evening.
At the hospital they were delighted to find Slugger looking reasonably well and in good spirits. Well as good as Slugger’s spirit ever got. He could always find something to grumble about whatever the occasion. This evening it was the state of the hospital food.
‘Disgusting, it were.’ He screwed up his face. ‘These ‘ere places are suppose to make yer better but the supper were bad enough to give yer food poisoning.’
‘Well, it has to better than the offering Steve and I were face with this morning.’ Ron winked at Dora. ‘Eh, Dora.’
‘Why? Who cooked this morning?’ He looked from Ron to Dora.
‘I did.’ Dora bowed her head and looked at him coyly from under her lashes.
Slugger smiled at her knowingly and patted her hand.
‘So come home, Slugs, all is forgiven. Before we all starve and waste away.’ Ron said jokingly.
‘If only I could. They won’t let me out of here yet. Says I need to stay in for a couple o’ days. Don’t know why, I’m feelin’ fine. Lot of nonsense these tests, if you ask me. Not that they will. Just do what they like. Pokin’ and proddin’.’ Slugger prattled on.
Talking as much to himself as the three young friends who just sat listening trying hard to stifle their laughter and avoid looking at each other for fear if one started they all would.
At the end of visiting time, all three of them said their goodbyes relieved that Slugger was obviously on the mend and felt a lot happier at leaving him there, despite what he said, he was in the best place and if he continued to recover at the same rate as the last twenty four hours, he would home with them in a few days.
Supper that night was a quick bar snack in the local pub on their way home, they couldn’t leave the farm unattended for much longer. Although Ron was more concerned about his possessions in the back of the truck, left unattended in the pub car park, reckoning that someone might nick them. Dora and Steve had laughingly remarked that nobody would want his battered old suitcase full of gaudy clothes only Ron would wear or the cardboard box full of his junk that apparently he couldn’t spend a day without. In fact, the barman having notice the odd collection in the truck had offered them a box of bric-a-brac from his loft, assuming they had been collecting for charity. This made Ron fume in disgust and had Dora and Steve in hysterics.
Dora and Steve were still chuckling about it when they eventually got to bed that night. They had helped Ron settle into Steve’s old room. Dora was surprised to see how particular he was with his clothes, even hanging up his shirts in the antique but not especially valuable wardrobe that the Colonel had given to Steve several years before. As they lay snuggled up in their bed they discussed Ron’s choice of shirts. Steve commenting that he wouldn’t be seen dead in half of them. With her head on Steve’s chest Dora caught sight of his checked shirt hanging on the back of a chair and thought about Steve’s clothes, although he suited the sort he wore from day to day, she decided it would be nice to see him in something a little trendier occasionally. Maybe a tank top, but of course, she’d never choose his clothes for him, not like her mother did for her father.
A tickling on her cheek interrupted her thoughts. Steve was stroking her face with the bandage on his hand, she grabbed at it, giggling and pulled it away.
‘Ouch! Be careful.’ He snatched his hand from her grasp.
‘Sorry. Does it hurt?’ she asked apologetically.
‘It’s just a little sore and tender, that’s all.’
‘You should change the dressing regularly, you know. It’s looking a bit grubby, it will become infected if your not careful.’
‘It’ll be fine, Dora. I’ll change it after mucking out in the morning.’
‘But Steve…’
‘Shh, no more nagging.’ He pushed her on to her back and placed his mouth hard on hers. She wrapped her arms tight around his back, pulling him close to her and surrendered herself to him.

Dora awoke with a start and extricating herself from Steve’s embrace, sat up in bed and looked at the clock on her bedside table. Crikes, she thought to herself, it was gone half past seven, and they had slept in. She nudged Steve to wake him.
‘Steve, wake up it’s late.’
‘Umm.’ He put out his arms and tried to pull her back into his embrace once more. She very nearly succumbed to him especially when his warm hands began to stroke her bare skin softly and gently in all the right places, he certainly knew how to give her the most pleasurable of feelings. Suddenly the smell of cooking hit her nostrils. She sniffed the air again. Yes, she thought it was. It was definitely the aroma of bacon.
‘Steve, I can smell bacon.’
‘What!’ He reluctantly let her go and sighing sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
‘Bacon. Someone’s cooking bacon!’ She gave Steve a puzzled look.
‘RON?’ They both leapt out of bed and dressed quickly.
A few minutes later they were entering the kitchen.
‘Ron, what are you doing?’
‘Ah, morning, you two. A little late aren’t we?’ he said sarcastically. ‘I’m cooking breakfast like I said I would, ain’t I?’ He stood by the stove, wearing Slugger’s old apron, the belt wrapped twice around his thin waist and tied with a bow at the front. ‘Yeah, sorry, we slept in.’
‘Well, ain’t that nice. I get a lecture about making sure I get up early and you two are the ones lazing in bed while muggins ‘ere does all the work.’ He poked himself in the chest with the cooking tongs. Steve and Dora shook their heads and looked at each other, Ron was just unbelievable.
‘I did think about knocking on your door.’ Ron continued. ‘But didn’t want to disturb you if you doing ‘you know what’!’ Ron winked at Steve. Steve just shook his head again and sighed. It didn’t merit a response, they were used to Ron’s innuendos by now.
‘Okay, mate, now where’s this breakfast?’ Steve asked taking a peek into the frying pan.
Dora and Steve were pleasantly surprised. Ron’s bacon and eggs were actually very good. He had even fried some bread too! Everything was cooked to perfection. They told him as much too. He chest swelled with pride and it was decided that while Slugger was recovering he would be in charge of the breakfasts. Although it was agreed that they wouldn’t make too much of Ron’s breakfasts in Slugger’s presence so as not to upset him and make him feel he wasn’t needed.

Dora watched Steve from the donkey’s pen as he filled a bucket up with water out of the tap by the tack room door. He picked it up with his bandaged hand only to drop it after a few yards, a grimace on his face. He looked at the injured hand and flexed the fingers, a pain expression appearing on his face once more as he did so. Glancing up he saw Dora and quickly turn the pain look into a smile as he picked up the bucket with his other hand. He wasn’t going to let on to her how much it hurt; she had nagged him enough about it already.
Earlier that day she had insisted on changing the dressing for him and was horrified to see how red and inflamed the wound had become, she was sure it was infected. She had clean it as gently as she could, with an antiseptic solution but was aware that he was trying hard not to wince and cry out. He didn’t want to seen as a wimp in front of herself and Ron, well at least Ron, anyway. Replacing the grubby and dirty bandage with a fresh and sterile one, she tried to persuade him to go to the doctor but he was determined that it was going to be okay. Was it his stubborn male pride or his dislike of going to the doctors, she thought?

That afternoon Ron elected to stay at the farm so Dora and Steve went to visit Slugger on their own. Ron had called in the hospital that morning, barging his way in and sweet talking a young nurse to see Slugger out of visiting hours, while shopping for the day’s groceries. Steve had volunteered to cook that night and Ron had offered to go into town. Any excuse to get out of work, Steve thought.
Dora and Steve to pleased to see that Slugger was in a much happier mood when they arrived. He had been told that he was to be allowed home the next day. He sat by his bed with a big smile on his face, repeating telling them that he was ‘coming home tomorrow.’ He kept this up all the way though the visiting hour, interrupting their own tales of the day. They told him of Ron cooking the breakfast that morning, telling him only that it tasted ‘alright.’ He had been amazed that the ‘lazy so and so’ had been up early enough. They failed to make known that they, themselves were late up!
Before they left they made arrangements for Steve to come and collect him after the doctor’s morning rounds. As they walked out of the door of the ward, Slugger called out to them.
‘I’m coming home tomorrow!’
Steve and Dora grinned at each other, delighted at how happy Slugger was, delighted too that their old friend would be returning to Follyfoot so soon.
As they walked through the hospital they met the nurse, Susie again. Stopping to chat she asked after Mr Jones and was genuine pleased to hear that he was recovering well. Once again as she talked Susie placed a hand on Steve’s arm. Dora chose to ignore it, it was just friendly, harmless gesture, she probably did it to everyone she knew and besides she did seem very nice. Suddenly an idea popped into her head. Much to Steve’s dismay she ask Susie if she could take a look at Steve’s hand. She was worried about it she told the young nurse.
‘Of course, come this way.’ Steve started to protest but seeing the look on Dora’s face gave in as Susie led them into a nearby vacant treatment room. Dora wasn’t sure if she should have been in the room as well but stayed anyway.
‘Good grief, Steve. How did you do that?’ Susie exclaimed carefully removing the old dressing.
Steve explained to her about the manger and his carelessness with the screwdriver.
‘I assume working on a farm you have regular tetanus injections.’ She asked holding his hand gently and inspecting the wound closely.
‘Er. No.’ His gaze caught Dora’s and he smile sheepishly at her, holding the gaze for several seconds. She gave him a knowing look back, a look that said ‘I told you so!’ but the smile that went with it was a loving, caring smile.
‘Well, you’ll need one now.’ Susie said catching the look between Steve and Dora. ‘And you’ll need a course of antibiotics, I get a doctor to write out a prescription for you.
Dora stood in the corner of the small room and watched as the nurse expertly cleansed the wound, explaining that in her opinion stitches were needed but that she would request that a doctor looked at it first. Susie left them alone for a few minutes while she sought out a doctor.
‘Oh Steve!’ Dora took a pace towards him and reached out for his other hand, which he offered her willingly, squeezing hers as she held his hand.
‘I know! I know, you told me so, didn’t you. Should know better than not to listen to you, shouldn’t I? You’re always right, aren’t you? Well, nearly, anyway!’
‘Yes!’ she agreed grinning at him then leaning over and kissing his lips softly, breaking off suddenly as Susie reappeared with the senior house doctor, who echoed Susie’s recommendations and left the capable nurse to see to the necessary stitching. Not wanting to watch the actually suturing of Steve’s hand, Dora turned her gaze to his face, noting the pained frown that he was desperately trying to hide with a smile. He was the only person she knew who could frown and smile at the same time. This thought brought a smile to her own lips and how it was just one more thing she loved about him.
When it came for the time for Steve to have the tetanus injection Dora tactful excused herself and waited outside in the corridor. She’d never admit it to anyone but she hated injections, the sight of a needle gave her the shivers. Although it had been her suggestion that they all had tetanus jabs, she didn’t know if she would be able to go through with it when the time came, if it came. Remembering the infection of Steve’s hand she knew it would be sensible to have the jabs, she just have to put on a brave face in front of the others.
She didn’t have to wait long before Steve emerged from the treatment room, waving a friendly goodbye to Susie.
With the new bandage tightly binding his hand, he was unable to drive, changing gear would prove difficult so Dora got into the driver’s seat and drove them home.
Entering the farmyard Steve casually announced that Susie had given him her telephone number with a request to call any time. He held his breath and braced himself for Dora’s reaction it wasn’t long in coming.
‘She did WHAT!’ The brakes squealed as Dora brought the truck to an abrupt halt sending a cloud of dust into the air. She turned to him her eyes blazing, her mouth set in disgust.
Steve laughed, it was the exact response he’d expected and knew would come. As he continued to laugh Dora became more annoyed until he decided that he should cease his teasing otherwise he felt he would certainly come off worse.
‘Only joking!’ he said grinning at her and placing a calming hand on her arm. Her eyes still blazed and he wondered if had gone to far. But suddenly a smile lit her face and she trumped him playfully.
‘You’d better be or I’ll…’ She hesitated. ‘Oh, I’ll think of something.’ She kissed him briefly before getting out of the truck.
‘Come on, Steve. Don’t forget your cooking tonight and I’m hungry.’
He held up his bandage hand, waving it in front of her face. ‘Er… Well, I’m not so sure…’
‘Oh Steve, okay I’ll give you a hand.’ She said, making them both laugh at the unintentional pun.

Dora scanned the lane, her eyes and ears straining for any sign of the truck but saw only a few crows pecking at a dead rabbit on the side of the road, hit by the post van as it drove too fast up the lane the day before, and heard only the horses neighing a greeting to each in the nearby field and the distance rumble of an aircraft flying high overhead. What was she thinking anyway? Ron had left less than half an hour ago and certainly wouldn’t be back yet. He had gone to collect Slugger from the hospital around mid morning, promising to back by lunchtime, assuming Slugger’s release from hospital was straightforward. Dora hadn’t strayed out the yard and had kept a constant vigil by the gate not wanting to miss them returning home. Steve smiled as he watched her waiting expectantly, forever pacing in and out of the gate. She had found jobs to do that kept her within sight of the lane. Even pulling up the large weeds that had set up home around the gateway. A task that Slugger had complained needed doing but that no one had the time or the inclination to do. Gave a bad impression to visitors, he had said, if the first thing they saw were enormous dandelions and three-foot nettles. Steve had busied himself in the stable, working as best he could with his tightly bandage hand, which had prevented him from going to fetch Slugger, which he had really wanted to do.

Time dragged on and she started to worry, making up all sorts of reasons why the doctors wouldn’t let Slugger home. Maybe he had taken a turn for the worse and had a set back or even more concerning had, had another stroke. But eventually worry turned to relief and joy as the truck came up the lane and Ron tooted the horn as he drove through the gate.
Dora was opening the truck’s passenger door before Ron had even managed to bring it to a complete halt. She helped Slugger from his seat, aware of how fragile he looked, before throwing her arms around his neck.
‘Hey girl, be careful. I’m still a bit wobbly on me old legs, you know.’ He leaned on her as he struggled to keep his balance.
‘Welcome home, Slugger. We’ve missed you.’
‘It’s good to be home. Never thought I say it but I’ve missed this place. And you lot, of course.’
Steve strode quickly down the yard to greet his old friend; he also had slyly kept the gate within his sight. ‘ Hi Slugs, welcome back. How are you feeling?’
‘Not too bad, son. Glad to be out of there. Horrible places, ‘ospitals’ he said with sneer.
‘Come on in the house and sit yourself down. Lunch will be ready soon.’ Steve said.
‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind a wandered around the place. See the ‘orses, glumpin’ great things, they are but I like to say ‘allo. See if they’ve missed me? And get a bit o’ fresh air.’
‘Okay.’ Steve smiled. ‘I’ll go and fix lunch.’
‘Come on then, Slugger.’ Dora, standing one side of him reached out and took hold of Slugger’s arm gently and slowly helping him to walk over the rough ground to the stables. Ron took his place on the other side of his old friend, a guiding hand placed carefully at his back.
Steve watched as they wandered up the yard, Dora and Ron’s laughter ringing around the yard as Slugger made yet another moaning remark concerning his enforced imprisonment in the hospital. He smiled it was certainly good to have the old man back. For all his grumbling ways, they were each full of love and admiration for him. Love, not a word Steve had, had much use for in the past, if at all. But now he realised love came in many different guises. His love for Follyfoot and the horses, his special, unconditional love for Dora, his brotherly type love for Ron, and also the love a son has for his father, a love he had never known, for Slugger. He smiled to himself once more as he made his way to the kitchen and lunch.

Slugger lapped up all the attention he was getting from Dora, Steve and Ron. Sitting in his favourite armchair, being waited on hand and foot. Endless cups of tea and biscuits, the paper fetched and placed on his lap for him. They wouldn’t allow him to do anything, pushing him back in his seat as soon as he tried to rise to do something. ‘Slugger, sit down. I’ll get anything you need.’ Dora chided him as she gently pushed him back in his chair for the umpteenth time.
‘But Dora.’
‘No buts, Slugger. What is it you need?’
‘ I need the loo, girl and I don’t think you can help me there?’ He chuckled as he rose again.
‘Sorry!’ Dora giggled, her face reddening.

At first Slugger enjoyed being waited on and having the young friends at his beck and call for a change but soon he became bored and frustrated, itching to get up and help with farm work. As much as the others sympathised with his frustration, they knew he needed to rest but keeping him still without much to occupy him was becoming a hard task. He cleaned all the horse brasses and tack but that after awhile even that made him feel tired. His body couldn’t do as much as his brain wanted him to. One thing he had done, in the hospital and here since he’d been home, was thinking. Yes, he’d certainly had had plenty of time to do that and a lot of it.
Not many years ago, he had thought that working at Follyfoot was to be his lot, that he would spend his days here, seeing people come and go but eventually ending up a grumpy, lonely old man with only grumpy old horses for company. He had no family as such, only his sister, of whom he saw very little. He and his dear wife had been married only ten years when she was tragically taken from him and they had never had any children, well none that had survived anyway.
And now he had these three young people whom he loved like they were his own family. Which they were? He thought of each of them and the effect they had had on his life.
Ron… the archetypal lovable rogue, a cheeky young rascal, like a mischievous nephew. He could appear all hard and uncaring on the outside, but had a heart of gold on the inside. He was extremely fond him despite all his sarcastic and often rude remarks. Ron certainly brought a light-hearted atmosphere to the place as well as a great deal of laughter.
Steve…’a dark horse’ he had called him not long after he arrived at Follyfoot. He was hard to get to know at first, being sullen and moody at times. Not surprising given his past, thought Slugger. But gradually he had gained the young man’s confidence and earned his trust. Steve was a fine man, hard working, honest and dependable. He loved him like a son, the son he should have had.
Dora…born into a privilege and wealth life, yet, despite her parents, she was down to earth without any airs and graces about her. A beautiful girl that any father would be proud of, and he certainly felt that fatherly pride for her. She was both loving and caring (perhaps a little too caring at times) but also strong and stubborn, like Steve, which was why they so many spats and arguments. He smiled to himself when he thought of their tumultuous past relationship but their love had won through, just like he knew it would. Perhaps, one day, ‘his daughter’ and ‘son’ would provide him with ‘grandchildren’.
He had tried to convince himself on many occasions, sitting alone in the evenings, before his three young companions came along, that having a family didn’t matter, but now he knew for sure it did. A family matters a great deal.

One evening a few days after Slugger had returned home, Dora was in the yard pouring her usual bucket of water on the old tree, when Angela Bruce’s eldest son rode into the farm on their pony, Polly.
‘Hello, Simon.’ Dora said to the teenager. ‘ Everything alright? I’m sorry I’ve not been able to get over to your place lately, what with Slugger just coming out of hospital. We’ve so much to do here.’
‘That’s alright. I’ve been riding Polly. She doing okay?’ The boy said shyly.
‘She looks like she coming on really well. Maybe could do with a bit of rein work. I’ll try and get over next week. Meanwhile what can I do for you?’
‘Well, Mum wants to know if you could look after this.’ He handed Dora a bundle of sacking.
From the top stable Steve watched the young lad suspiciously as he continued to talk to Dora. Being too far away Steve couldn’t hear what was being said. What on earth did he want? Steve wasn’t too keen on the Bruce children. Seemed they were always up to mischief.
As the boy and the pony trotted out of the gate, Steve strode down the yard and confronted Dora.
‘And what did he want?’ He asked.
‘It was Simon Bruce.’
‘I know damn well who it was! What did he want?’ He asked again harshly. ‘And what the hell is that?’ he continued pointing to the bundle in Dora’s arms.
‘Steve.’ She said in a pacifying voice. ‘ It’s a erm… a kitten.’ She opened up the sacking and a small black head with yellow eyes peeked out.
‘WHAT!’ Steve exclaimed with a shout. ‘What do we need with a kitten? It’s another mouth to feed.’
‘Steve, listen please. It’s hurt, one of the little ones stood on it’s back leg and injured it. Angela wants us to look after it, help it get better.’
‘Why can’t she look after it? Haven’t we got enough to do?’
‘Small children can be a bit rough.’ Dora said as if she had everyday dealings with small children. ‘And she frightened it will get hurt again. It can’t move very well and can’t get out of the way of small hands and feet quickly enough. She afraid it will get trodden on again.’ She looked up at him with sorrowful, pleading eyes.
Steve sighed and blew out his cheeks. ‘And when are we going to have time to look after it?’
‘I’ve had a idea.’ She bit her bottom lip and looked at him. ‘I think Slugger should look after him.’
‘Slugger?’ Steve frowned.
‘Yes, he needs something to occupy him, without being too much hard work and besides it will be company for him while we’re working.’
‘I don’t know, Dora. You know what he was like with that old tom we use to have. He wouldn’t let it in the house. It had to sleep in the barn. And this thing too little to do that.’ He said stroking the little black head and getting a lick from its tiny pink tongue for his efforts.
‘Please Steve. Let’s just try. It won’t eat lot, will it, poor little thing? Please, Steve!’ her hazel eyes sought out his, lovingly pleading with him once more.
He sighed; she knew he could never resist THAT look from her.
‘Okay!’
‘Thank you. Steve. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’ She lifted her face to his and kissed him briefly.
‘Oh, you will, you can be sure of that.’ He winked at her.

In the kitchen Slugger was aghast when Dora appeared carrying the small bundle and plonked it gently on his lap.
‘A job for you, Slugger.’
‘What on earth?’ he looked at the sacking and exclaimed when it started to move.
‘It’s a kitten.’
‘A kitten, she says. What do I want with kitten? What it’s doing here? Take it away.’ Slugger moved uncomfortably back in his chair.
‘It’s injured, Slugger. It needs looking after like you did when you first came out of hospital. And well, we haven’t got time but you have. Just till it’s better.’ She used her pleading look again. ‘Please, just look at it Slugs.’
The old man gingerly open up the sacking, immediately the small black face looked up at him and began to mew plaintively, it’s little front paws began to climb up the front of his jumper dragging the injured back leg behind him.
‘See, he likes you already.’
Reluctantly Slugger allowed the tiny creature to spend the rest of the evening on his lap, even feeding it from a spoon, watching it’s pink tongue lap up the warmed milk. Sitting together in the chair opposite him, Dora and Steve watched as Slugger softened to the little cat. Smiling at each other as he stroked its head and tickled it’s soft black tummy, the cat purring contentedly. When it was time for bed Slugger found a box and placed the kitten in it with one of his old jumpers as comfort. It mewed pitifully as the old man made his way out of the kitchen and upstairs to bed. It still hadn’t stopped when Dora and Steve went up to their room. Dora poked her head around Slugger’s door to tell him that the cat was still crying for him but he just grunted and turned over. But less than five minutes later, Steve and Dora heard Slugger’s footsteps on the stairs and weren’t surprised the next morning when they took him his morning cuppa, to find the kitten curled up asleep on Slugger’s bed next to him.
Over the next few weeks man and kitten became inseparable, each helping with the other’s recovery and when the kitten, now named Fred, was able to move more freely it followed Slugger everywhere. It continued to sleep in his room, meowing in protest all night long if it was left downstairs. It was given the cream from the top of the milk and the best morsels of meat, minced small for it’s tiny mouth. Ron complained it got better fed than he did.
Of course it never went back to the Bruce’s but then Dora and Steve never thought it would.
‘Well, it’s used to me and me to it, so it might as well stay now.’ Slugger said sheepishly as the kitten rubbed its head on his leg, purring loudly.

The End.
© Sue Hirst. 2006