She stifled a laugh behind her hand and said ‘Oh, look at my poor baby’s face!’ then proceeded to kiss it better, trying not to smirk.
‘Okay, clever-clogs, you can go up the next one and see how you get on!’
She proved a much more nimble climber than him and came down afterwards without a scratch on her. He said ‘Hmph! Beginner’s luck!’ She just smiled smugly and stuck her tongue out at him.
Processing the cherries for preserving was extremely labour-intensive and took them ages. The ones that were to be dried had to be pitted and halved. They lowered the drying racks in the conservatory by their ropes and spread the fruit out over the mesh, before raising them again. The racks were completely full of cherries for two weeks. Once dried, which took around five days, they resembled large raisins. They had lost some of their tartness in the drying process and became nicer to eat, and were packed away in airtight containers and stored for future use. They preserved others in alcohol, using the cheap vodka they’d got from the warehouse, and some were made into compotes and sealed in preserving jars. Those cherries destined for alcohol preserving only needed pitting and went in whole, which saved a lot of time.
On top of the cherry harvesting and processing they also had to make regular trips to check the rabbit snares they had in various locations, which then involved cooking and preserving any they caught and making jerky also. They found they could speed up the jerky-making process by drying the meat in the Rayburn’s warming oven with the door left open a crack. Another regular task was to collect the salt from the containers in the garden as the sea water evaporated and then refill them. All-in-all it was a pretty hectic time for them, involving long days.
There hadn’t been much heavy rainfall during June, so they took water from the pond in the garden and also had to make regular trips to the lake at Egerton Park to fill water containers. Although the duck population there had diminished and those that were left were more wary, they managed sometimes to get one or two with the shotguns. On Friday of the second week, in late afternoon, they had a visit from Sarah and Georgie. They were washing-up in the kitchen and heard a truck pull up in the road: Jamie picked up his sawn-off and went to look, but put it down when he saw who it was. He called out to Jane and they welcomed them into the house, with Max jumping up at both women, barking and wagging his tail. They came bearing gifts; a plump pheasant they’d shot that morning, along with some eggs, onions, young carrots and some honey from their hives. Jamie and Jane were delighted and thanked them both.
‘We thought we’d be presumptuous and see if we could come for an evening meal!’ said Georgie.
Jane said that would be great and put some water on to heat for tea. They showed the sisters around the house and the two gardens, explaining the modifications they’d made and the things they’d built, along with the planting they had done between them. Sarah and Georgie were impressed and said they were doing a great job, especially as it was, predominantly, all new to them. Jane admitted, though, that it definitely wasn’t all plain sailing and they were having plenty of failures as well. At the bottom of the garden they opened the gate, showing them their access to the beach and the boat tied up to the railings.
‘Well,’ said Sarah, ‘you’ve got a good setup here and I’m really pleased you’re doing okay. Good for you!’
They went back inside and sat at the table talking about themselves. Both sisters had divorced many years before and had started the business together at their dad’s farm: well, they called it “The Farm”, but it was more a smallholding, really. Only Sarah had had children; a daughter who had been away at university in London when the plague had hit, and had died there. Sarah had been informed by phone as there hadn’t been the manpower for a personal visit by the authorities due to the huge number of deaths occurring everywhere. Sarah cried as she related the story to them and her sister hugged her. Georgie had remained friendly with her ex and her step-daughter, both of whom had died. Jane and Jamie told them about the loss of their own families, too: all four had their own stories of loss and tragedy, as was to be expected. Jamie opened a bottle of wine and they toasted those no longer with them.
‘I don’t mind admitting,’ said Georgie, ‘that there have been many occasions over the last four months when we’ve been terrified and worried about the future…’
‘… But what can you do except to just carry on, deal with it as best you can and survive?’ added Sarah, and the others agreed with her.
To lighten the mood Jane told them how they had found Max on the beach at death’s-door and had nursed him back to health, and what a great companion and working dog he had become to them. She told them how great he was at locating rabbit burrows for them to lay snares. Max stirred and looked up from his bed on hearing his name, but was far too comfortable to bother getting up.
They decided it was time to cook, so Jane went outside to pluck the pheasant while Jamie picked some beans and peas. After the pheasant was prepared and the lead shot removed she put it in the oven to roast with some herbs, while Jamie prepared a vegetable casserole to accompany it. While the food cooked he showed them the cellar that was filling up nicely with dried fish, jerky and other preserved food, then Jane took the sisters next door to show them her home. Georgie asked why they had two places and Jane explained how things had begun. She grinned, though, and admitted that since she and Jamie had fallen in love she spent most of her time at his place.
‘We have disagreements on things sometimes, of course, but nothing that could be called an argument so far. It’s just nice, sometimes, to come back here to sleep on my own and have my own space for a night. Besides,’ she added with an impish grin, ‘Jamie farts a lot in bed,’ and all three of them giggled.
As it was a lovely evening they ate outside on the patio; the kitchen was often too warm now once the range or the stove was lit for cooking on. Jamie brought his MP3 player outside and put on some Spanish guitar music by John Williams. It was a relaxed occasion and they drank two bottles of wine between them. Sarah and Georgie were great company and, for a short while at least, they almost forgot the terrible situation they were all living in.
It came time for the sisters to leave and they hugged each other warmly. As they had no means of communicating with each other they arranged a date in two weeks’ time for Jane and Jamie to go over to their place for lunch. They had told the sisters about Bill and Emma and said how nice it would be for them to meet each other if they could arrange it. Both women agreed that would be lovely then got in their truck, waved and drove off. They cleared up for the night and went to bed with a nice warm glow from the company that evening.
After the mad two weeks with the cherries they had a slight hiatus, as the apples and pears wouldn’t be ready for some time yet, though they still had plenty to do in the gardens as more vegetables became ready for harvesting. On one day Jamie made some gun racks for the back of the cab in both trucks to store the rifles and shotguns when they went out, but they used the vehicles only when necessary, to conserve fuel. Whenever they went out locally to check the snares they either walked or took Jamie’s bike. It proved to be too big for Jane, though, so they went to Halfords on the retail park and picked a nice bike for her, along with a rack and some paniers. When they got back Jamie made another wooden carrying platform for it from plywood, as he had done with his own bike.