The Ram 41.

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This is the last Chapter.

The Welsh Mountain Ram 41.

Briony Davies Nee Lewis ... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon Davies... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy... Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane... Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies... Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce... Blodwen’s Partner.
Moira... Bridal boutique owner Newtown
Edward Lewis... Briony’s father.
Jean Lewis... Briony’s mother.
Colin... Llanidloes police officer.
Sarah... Llanidloes Police woman.
Brian Lewis... Briony’s oldest brother
Rachel ... Briony’s oldest sister
Charlotte & Samantha Brian’s daughters (14 & 16)
Edward Lewis Jr Briony’s middle brother.
Abigail Edward’s daughter (7 yrs old). Briony’s niece
Fredric Lewis Briony’s younger brother. Brothers older than the three sisters.
Stephanie and Samantha Fred’s 10-yr-old twin daughters
Kaya Elspeth’s only daughter (12 yrs-old)
David & Victoria Daphne and Briony’s twins.

The Ram 41. Last Chapter.

As the evening wore on, the reception became ever livelier as more and more of The Melancholy Pussy’s regular members kept pouring into the club. Instead of closing the doors, Billy and Janet had anticipated the numbers. They had secretly applied for a one-night street trading licence and after some bargaining with the licensing magistrates, they had managed to organise he village into a party venue. Two marquees had been erected and the newly-weds were more or less compelled to circulate around the street as well as the club. Easily recognisable in their bridal gowns, the whole gay community took them to their hearts as countless friends and acquaintances reached out to congratulate them. Briony found it hard to credit that so many people knew Daphne but she soon learned of it. Time and again while they were circulating amongst the crowd, some complete stranger would come up to Briony to congratulate her on winning Daphne’s heart. The comments were invariably in a similar vein and dwelling on a familiar theme,

You’ve got a good partner there girl! Look after her cos’ she’s got a heart of gold. I remember when she ...’ And then would follow some tale of a good turn done or a helping hand reached out sometime in the past by Daphne as she made her own way up the ladder to success. The more Briony heard, the more she realised what a gem she’d inadvertently found. ‘Or had found her’ ... she corrected herself.

By midnight the bridal pair were exhausted and they were forced to retreat to the office of The Melancholy Pussy for a hard earned rest. Both girls had been on their heels from eleven that morning until midnight and their feet were screaming for relief. They slumped into the arm chairs only to be accosted by Fajita the maid seconded to them from the hotel.

“Your babies! They need feed! They no sleep. Too much noise!”

Briony and Daphne exchanged shattered looks as they sighed resignedly. Daphne heard herself protesting but even as she spoke her inner voice was telling her.

‘Listen girl, a few months ago you were dreaming every moment of every day about being able to feed your babies from your own breasts. You can’t avoid it now just cos’ you’re tired. Tits out Daphne; do your duty!’
With a sigh she turned her back to Briony.

“Can you unzip me and unclip this bloody bra; it’s been crushing me like a flippin Anaconda since about six o’clock as my boobs filled up with milk.”

“Snap!” Briony replied. “You do the same for me.”

“I do it! My job!” Fajita interrupted even as she was attending Briony’s gown.

Briony sighed with relief as her boobs spilled out and Fajita turned to help Daphne. As Daphne’s boobs flopped out Fajita smiled at her.

“You lovely girl! Very kind, very good! Plenty milk!”

“Flattery will get you everywhere Fajita. I have to get out of this bra and gown though, the bra’s a killer.”

“Have we got nursing bras handy?” Briony wondered aloud.

Daphne nodded towards the packed suite-cases set aside for the honeymoon.

“They’re in there. Jean packed them for us last night.”

“I get them!” Fajita offered as the brides each picked up a baby and attended to their motherly duties.

After finishing the feeding, the brides made one more round of the gay village then announced on the tannoy system that they were exhausted and going to bed. A raucous cheer erupted from the crowds accompanied by the inevitable lewd suggestions but the bridal pair ignored them. There were always some that would not know when to stay within the boundaries.

The pair emerged from the rear doors of The Melancholy Pussy and sneaked away in an anonymous, nondescript little car to avoid attracting attention. They made it to the hotel to finally collapse on their bed. Neither of them were fit for any nuptials and within seconds of hitting the pillow and cuddling up, they were snoring away.

The late morning sun was streaming through the windows when the demanding cries of David and Victoria broke through to Daphne and Briony’s consciousness. As Daphne stirred reluctantly, her movement disturbed Briony who protested sleepily.

“Ooooh, are those two hungry again?”

“Fraaiii-id so,” Daphne yawned as she stretched her arms upwards and milk spurted onto the duvet. “Shit! Why did I start this? I’m like a bloody dairy cow!”

Briony sniffed and grimaced at the smell of nappy.

“Your turn for the honours. Better change them first.”

Daphne groaned and stumbled to the crib where the twins were staring up and demanding to be fed.

“First thing first you noisy buggers. Let’s get you changed.”

“You might as well bath them as well.”

“What? In milk! Look at this!”

Briony watched another spurt eject from Daphne’s breasts and she grinned.

“We’ll have to enter you for the Royal Welsh Agricultural Show! ... Dairy section!”

“Watchit’ partner, unless you want a face full!”

Briony giggled and watched Daphne heft the twins ‘one in each arm’ and disappear into the en-suite. She lay idly on the pillow listening to Daphne playing with the twins and the chortling that told of their delighted responses. Then silence fell and she realised she had to do her share at least and help to feed them. She crept into the separate looe and relieved herself before joining her family in the en-suite. Daphne looked up and grinned guiltily as Briony noted a twin at each breast.

“I’ll bet your enjoying that aren’t you?”

Daphne smiled.

“Mmmmm! A dream come true. I may not be able to bear them but everything else ... well!”

She looked down to emphasise her words until Briony extended her arms and Daphne reluctantly surrendered David off her left nipple.

“I was enjoying that.”

Briony grinned as she latched David onto her breast and settled beside her husband.

“Have you still got much left?” She asked him.

“Mooooooooooo is the answer to that,” Daphne lowed.

They both chuckled briefly but their convulsions disturbed the babies and they were forced to abate their fun. They shared and swapped the twins so as to keep them accustomed to sharing and to bring them up to realised there were no favourites. Eventually they heard Fajita enter and she called to them.

“You’d better be get ready. Ship, she leave Southampton tonight and it’s nearly one o’clock.”

Reluctantly they finished feeding the twins and eventually joined the rest of the wedding party to commence their honeymoon-cum-holiday. Daphne studied the large group and grinned.

“Some honeymoon this.”

Shirley reminded her.

“Don’t knock it. All these brides-maids are dead keen to come and they all know they have to share the caring of the young-uns’.
That’s the deal. Five weeks Mediterranean cruise but they have to look after the babes. You and Briony are on your honeymoon, it’s what you deserve! Besides, Fajita is really keen to come and the hotel has given her leave for six weeks. She’s more than keen to help share in looking after Dave and Vicky.”

~o0o~

With all the adults and youngsters it took three minibuses to carry everybody and the luggage down to Southampton. The journey was free of any interruptions and they arrived in plenty of time to be well settled in as the huge cruise ship gently eased itself clear of the quay. The first day was spent at sea as the ship sped over the summer smooth Atlantic then they arrived in Lisbon to savour a two day run ashore to visit the sights. Daphne grinned to herself as she watched the bride’s-maids already going ashore with some talent they had found in the night club. She turned to Briony and smiled as they locked the cabin and clambered into a pre-booked mini-bus with the rest of the adults. She noticed the little ones were absent and Rachel confirmed they were safe in the ship’s crá¨che.

“I’m going to enjoy this honeymoon,” she grinned to Briony as the mini-bus sped away.

And thus the voyage passed in a helter-skelter whirl of ports and sea passages.

~o0o~

The last day of August found them returning home because the younger ones had to return to School in the September. Daphne, Briony, Blodwen and Joyce returned with their children to Plas Graig Las after making their farewells with Shirley and Briony’s families at Birmingham. They arrived in the late afternoon to be met by a grim faced Terry.

“Bad news I’m afraid. Arfon’s been seen locally.”

“Oh hell!” Daphne cursed. “Haven’t the police collared him yet?”

“He’s clever and the police believe his brothers are helping him to avoid arrest.”

Daphne pulled a sour expression of understanding.

“But they can’t prove anything of course.”

Terry nodded as Daphne continued.

“And the plod are too short handed to mount a proper surveillance operation.”

“That’s about the size of it. The superintendant was up here a week ago to advise you to take extra precautions. We’re very remote up here and the house is vulnerable.”

“Did he confiscate the guns?”

“Uhhm, no, he never mentioned them, well not to me anyway.”

Daphne wasn’t sure what to make of the gun thing. She wondered if it had been a genuine oversight by the police superintendant or if he had deliberately avoided the issue because he knew Arfon was known to use guns. Daphne decided to alert everybody. After bringing everybody up to speed on the situation Briony pointed out the weakest flaw.

“If he tries to kidnap Sion again, it’ll most likely be at school or travelling to and from.”

Daphne nodded. This had crossed her mind as well. They would have to take Sion to and from school themselves every day.

“What if he’s armed?” Briony wondered nervously.

Daphne had no answer. She was certainly not allowed to carry guns legally. The best she could do was to keep a radio connection open between the car and the house and fit more CCTV cameras in the cars and around the house, inside and out.; A mood of depression and fear settled on the house and it refused to be shifted. Every day Daphne called the police for news and although Sergeant Davies proved to be extra helpful, there was no news to pass. It seemed Arfon had secreted himself well and would appear only when he was good and ready. Everybody agreed, he had returned to the area for one purpose only; what he saw as ‘unfinished business’.

The autumn passed tensely for the friends. Every day, as Daphne or Briony shared the school run they would tense nervously and over-react to the slightest incident that seemed out of the norm. Even meeting an unrecognised car on the narrow mountain road could cause Briony or Daphne to tense nervously until the potential danger had passed. Slowly but surely, the tension was grinding the pair down. They became irritable with one another and this transposed itself onto the children. After the autumn came and went winter set its grip on the mountain pastureland but this actually served to bring them some relief from the tension. If anybody was stalking the house they would be hard put to approach from any other direction but the lane because of the snow that renewed itself almost weekly. It was not deep snow but it was enough to evince tracks of any intruder. A walk around the house each morning served to reassure, Daphne, Briony Blodwen and Joyce that nobody had approached during the night. Many times the group of friends fell to wondering if they were being paranoid but Briony remained convinced that Arfon would show.

Her suspicions were finally confirmed the following April at the beginning of the mountain lambing season. A phone call from Sergeant Davies confirmed that Arfon had been seen in Machynlleth asking about Briony’s new partner. Apparently somebody in the White Lion had asked somebody else where David Cadwalloder lived and then passed the information to somebody else sitting in the darkest corner. It was only when the barman heard the question being asked around that he remembered the previous kidnapping incident and the recent local events. As soon as the bar-man realised, he had surreptitiously phoned Jack Davies the Station Sergeant. Unfortunately, by the time Jack had arrived. The apparent stranger had slipped away. When the visitors were asked to describe the person, the description matched Arfon. Jack had no option but to warn the friends at Plas Craig Las. Daphne answered the phone.

“So he’s still looking for us.”

“Seems like it Dave.”

“You might as well call me Daphne Jack. I’m virtually full time now.”

“I did hear that. The head-mistress at Sion’s school mentioned that you pick him up whilst dressed as a woman now. Doesn’t that cause problems for him?”

“Not this year I pass pretty well as a woman and most of the mothers knew me as a man so they tend to be sympathetic provided I don’t get too near their children. That hurts but it’s the price I have to pay. Next year bullying might be a problem. He moves up to High school.”

“Will my services be called upon?”

“Only if there’s a problem with bullying. I’m more concerned with the immediate situation concerning Arfon. He’s a very violent man.”

“You don’t have to tell me Daphne. My colleagues in Llanidloes have given me all the dirt. I’m worried now. It won’t be long before he works out exactly where you live.”

“Things are coming to a head. Have you no idea where he might be hiding out?”

“No. The whole family’s rotten to the core. I’m convinced they know where he is but we need proof.”

Daphne cursed silently. ‘Proof, proof’ proof.’ The police were hamstrung for lack of proof!’ After replacing the phone she turned to find Briony standing in the doorway.

“He’s still out there isn’t he?”

For a moment Daphne debated confirming Briony’s observation but she realised it was futile. She nodded despondently and Briony’s eyes teared up as she cursed.

“How come these bloody police can’t find him? I mean everybody in Llanidloes knows what he looks like.”

Daphne wagged her head.

“He avoids Llanidloes. That was Jack from Machynlleth. He was asking around in the White Lion.”

“Can’t they do anything? The police that is.”

“He said he’s going to put new posters up with Arfon’s picture. The old ones are all faded and virtually useless. We’ll just have to take extra precautions. Problem is, now the Lambing season’s upon us, Terry and I are going to be doubly busy. I won’t be able to help much with the school run for a few weeks.”

“D’you think he’ll try another kidnap?”

“There’s no knowing what he’ll do. We’ll just have to be doubly careful.”

Briony started to tear up again and Daphne reached out to comfort her.

“Try not to worry love. Once he shows up, somebody’s bound to recognise him. Everybody know about him in Machynlleth.”

“Yeah. But he still managed to confirm about you. It won’t take him long to find out where you live.”

Daphne shrugged. There was nothing she could do to reassure Briony. They went to bed that night locked in a tight embrace. Every little noise caused Briony to tense nervously and that tension translated to Daphne. Neither of them slept well.

The following morning, Terry escorted Briony to the farm gate by the road, while Daphne prepared for the first flock check. This involved walking quietly amongst the sheep so as not to disturb them while lambing but it involved a lot of footwork all over the moors. Daphne had not mentioned it to Briony but it meant she would be alone with the dogs, Laddie, Lassie and Jenny. Terry, being a professional full time shepherd, had his own dogs. The plan was to spread out about a quarter of a mile apart and then walk the moor slowly. It was the only way to be certain that no sheep were in difficulties. Terry took the high ridge while Daphne checked the lower escarpment because she knew the mountain better after having lived on the moors all her life. Daphne knew where the sheep would hole up for shelter whilst birthing. At times she and Terry would be out of sight but they had the radios for keeping contact.

It was about eleven when she heard the sound of a trail bike racing along the paths through the heather on the high bluff. Occasionally bike riders went up there under the misapprehension that it was ‘common land’ because the moors were unfenced and only isolated from the lower pastures by cattle grids on the road. Daphne cursed for there was little she could do. She did not have her beloved mare with her because Angel would tend to frighten the sheep by her very presence. Lambing patrols were best conducted on foot. Then she saw the motorcyclist approach Terry and stop. It was some distance away and she had no idea what was being said but when the motorcyclist turned his bike around and started towards the escarpment, Daphne’s radio crackled into life. It was Terry with an urgent warning.

“It’s fucking Arfon. He was checking me out but when he realised I wasn’t you he just turned around and sped away again. He’s
coming down your side by the long stone wall. He’s checking your side of the ridge. He’s looking for you.”
Daphne cursed as fear took hold and she asked Terry.

“Did you see anything that looked like a gun?”

“No. But he’s wearing motorcycle clothes; he could be hiding a bazooka under those bulky leathers.”

Daphne cursed again as her mind raced to find a solution. The only thing she could think of was to get the dogs to round up some sheep and make them form a flock around her. The trouble was, her whistles would alert Arfon and if she waited until Arfon saw her, she’d have no time to form a flock around her. Between the Devil and the deep, she decided to order the dogs away and round up as many sheep as she could. For several minutes she saw or heard no reaction. The noise of Arfon’s trail bike was obviously drowning out the sound of Daphne’s whistling but inevitably as Arfon came closer he saw the sheep flocking and the dogs working them. It was obvious to Arfon that somewhere there was another shepherd nearby and that shepherd was most probably Arfon’s pray ...
Daphne.

He gunned the trail bike towards a break in the wall and burst amongst the milling sheep to cause pandemonium as they tried to scatter. Arfon revved the engine and screamed at the sheep loud enough for them to form a closed space around him as the three dogs, Laddie, Lassie and Jenny struggled hard to hold the ring. The pool of space moved with Arfon as he forced his way towards his prey with a sickening glint of victory glittering in his eyes. When he got close enough he dismounted from the bike and stepped forward to savour his capture of Daphne.

“Now you sick perverted bitch! You’re going to get yours. Briony’s mine.”

Daphne didn’t bother answering. She was more concerned with the gun that Arfon had revealed under his leathers. It was a pistol for which Daphne was grateful. Had it been a shotgun there would have been little hope of avoiding the spread of buckshot but Daphne knew a bit about guns. Pistols were notoriously inaccurate.

Daphne cast about to try and put some distance between her and Arfon for he was still surrounded by panicking sheep that were being hemmed in ever tighter by the dogs. She cursed silently as she realised she was now being forced to step back up onto a flat rock and beyond that she would have to step further back towards the edge of the escarpment. Behind her there was a drop of about thirty feet and there was no escape. The sheep were now milling around at the foot of the small rock and Arfon was cursing as they bumped against him in their panic. He brought the gun up to take aim but the milling sheep kept hitting his legs so he could not take aim.
In a rage he fired a bullet at one of the sheep but this served only to cause greater panic. The sheep started to jump in an effort to avoid the obvious danger but the dogs were still crowding them into a denser and denser flock. They were obeying the last set of whistled commands Daphne had given them ... come in, come in, come in! As they locked eyes with the lead sheep Daphne looked behind her and swallowed with fear. There was nowhere to go but down.

Arfon tried another shot but it whizzed past Daphne’s shoulder and she screamed in fright. Now she was beginning to panic. She whistled another order to the dogs to close with the sheep in the hope of setting up a maelstrom of wool and hooves but her effort only served to make Arfon more determined. He could not force his way towards the rock where Daphne cowered but he thought he saw a way through to the side. As he stepped to the side, the sheep altered direction momentarily but it gave Arfon a chance to steady his legs and took aim.

Daphne saw him point the gun and dived to the side but the bullet caught her in the buttocks. She screamed in terror as the force jerked her sideways and took her over the back of the rock to first roll down the steep grassy slope and then plunge the remaining twenty feet before slamming against another steep pitch and slithering sideways to come to a violent halt amongst the jagged rocks.
Arfon gave a howl of victory and rushed towards the edge of the cliff where he saw Daphne’s body lying still and crumpled some sixty feet directly below. With a roar of delight he took careful aim and fired again but the noise of his gun for the third time caused pandemonium amidst the confined flock. Such was the intensity of Arfon’s rage he failed to pay attention to the woollen holocaust behind him. A large Wiltshire ram erupted from the packed flock and leapt in panic towards the cliff. In its blind attempt to escape it crashed head-first into Arfon’s back causing both Man and Ram to go plunging over the cliff. Arfon let out a scream of despair before his body crashed onto the rocks fifty feet below and rolled lifelessly for the last ten feet to land on Daphne.
By now Terry had come in sight after having heard the shots and he quickly took control of Daphne’s faithful dogs. They ceased corralling the sheep and Terry was able to pick his way towards the edge of the cliff until he saw the dreadful scene below.
With a curse of despair, he dashed along the escarpment until he found a way down and he desperately picked his way back to the accident.

He cursed as he struggled to remove the dead ram for under the ram lay Arfon’s lifeless body and under that lay Daphne’s.

The end.

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Comments

For Shame.

I kinda like cliff hangers but not at the end of the last chapter in a story that has lead me into knowing and, yes, caring about two women and their children. Beverly, dear one, I do love your work and your disgraceful self...but this is not disgraceful. This is downright mean as hell. Bout to throw me into a conniption fit. Oh well, I suppose my own imagination will have to do as needs must.

Joani

How sad

I suppose it could have been worse. Afron could have survived and finished off all the witnesses and everyone else not blood related. Then taken his son to raise him as his twisted evil spawn.

After reading this I went out to garden to plant , it always helps me feel better. I had to till up and area to prep for planting and found that I had run over a nest of baby rabbits, One was still squirming there until in a fit of compassion I finish the cutie off with a nearby shovel. How fitting I thought after what I had just read.

Yes I love a good tail, but as anyone close to me will verify I don't mix well with sad endings. Often I have others review material for me so I know it will be safe. I generally explain that if I want to feel bad about something I can pay attention to real life.

Still I can hope that Terry is mistaken and our sweet hero lives and a happy ending is yet in store in perhaps an epilog.

In any case I thank Beverly for a well crafted story. Except for the bit at the end which was so sad, and from a story POV seemed a bit rushed. Still better to have an ending than to never finish the

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Jenna

What The Fu*k?

This is a cliffhanger not an ending! Is this some delayed April Fools Joke? Did your debauchery lead you to LSD or the like? Give us a break!

Hugs and Bright Blessings,
Renee

All I can say....

...is that I completely agree with Joani. How could you do this to your loyal fans?

Sarah Ann

Seems to be a bit of an

Seems to be a bit of an abrupt and harsh ending. You are, however, the writer and it is your creation.

I have enjoyed many parts of the story and thank you for sharing it with us.

The Ram

Oh Beverly what a wonderful ending! I am really looking forward to the continuation, with a new series.
My goodness girl you sure can write

Thank you

James

The Ram 41.

Is she dead, or knocked out?

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

SAD

Sad to see the end of a very good story KUDOS Beverly well done. THANK YOU for your time in writing and posting -- HUGS RICHIE2

Titanic!

joannebarbarella's picture

Use your imagination! Daphne's not dead. she's just unconscious (I hope).

Although it's not nice to leave us this way, Bev! Have you no heart? Briony widowed, children orphaned!

Joanne

Ouch

Podracer's picture

Story sucked me in and spat me out again. Well done Bev.

In "my" continuation of this - well, the momentum at the end is irresistible is it not - Daphne certainly isn't dead at the bottom of the drop. I hope we will find an epilogue of some sort appears, but if not, well at least we have an ending right there.

"Reach for the sun."

Time to truly finish this story!

You have left Daphne under the ram and oaf in excess of 2 years. Rescue the woman and get Briony's inheritance into the open.

Best,

DJ

Evil triumphs over Good

Nice to read a srory where evil wins....not! Even the Ram gets it the end. G-A