[At a village pub in mid-Wales]
The door to the bar opened, and a man walked in, followed by a young border collie dog. He was wearing a fairly clean set of overalls and a decidedly muddy pair of Wellington boots. He removed the boots and left them close to the door. The dog stayed at the side of his master. This scene had been played out hundreds of thousands of times at this and many other Public Houses all over Wales for decades.
On this particular day, the bar was empty. This was perfectly normal for a Wednesday lunchtime. Most of the regular lunchtime clients were away at the cattle and sheep market in Builth Wells.

"A pint of the usual please, Bronwyn," said the man as he approached the bar. The dog followed him and then lay down with its face looking at the man as if it was waiting for a new command.

A woman appeared from a room at the back of the bar.

"Hello, David. We don't often see you in here on Wednesdays?" said the woman.

"I've just had a visit from the Taxman, and I need a pint or three just to steady my nerves," said David.

"That sounds ominous," said Bronwyn as she started to pull a pint.

"I have to admit that I wasn't looking forward to the visit, and she arrived half an hour early. I was out on the hill with Bess when I saw this strange car come up the drive."

“She?“ said Bronwyn interrupting David.

“Yes, a she. Not a bad looking bit of stuff. If I were only ten years younger,” he said with a sigh in his voice.
Bronwyn grinned at David.

"A looker then?"

David nodded his head.
"On a scale of 1 to 10, I'd give her a 9.5.”

"She must be good if you rate her that highly. You haven't even looked at another woman since?"

“Sorry!”

She hastily added. The memory of that day was still very, very painful for both of them.

Bronwyn stopped before she put her foot in it. Instead, she put the now full pint glass on the bar.

Then she said,
"In my experience, it is always bad news when you get a visit in person from the Revenue. How much do you owe the bloodsuckers?"

"That's the problem," said David as he picked up the pint of beer.

David continued after downing almost half of the pint and licking the remains of the head from his upper lip.

“The problem is that I don’t owe them a bent penny. They owe me almost sixty grand in refunds and compensation. I’ve been doing my returns all wrong for the last ten years. Who am I to argue with the Revenue? The problem was that we… I was just following their written instructions,
hence the compensation. I showed the woman from the Revenue the letter that they sent me after my last cockup. It seems that those instructions were wrong.”

“Does that mean you won’t have to sell up? You were talking about it a while back.”

"It does Sis, it does. The refund means that I can get the roof of the house fixed. Francis was always going on at me about that."

Bronwyn looked at her brother. She knew that there was something else on his mind.

"I can sense that there is something else?"

David tried hard but failed to suppress a grin.

"As she was leaving, Matilda came to say hello. The result was that my visitor went A-over-T into the farmyard mud. I left her trying to dry out. Her clothes went in the washer. I thought... it might be prudent to let her sort herself out without me getting in the way."

Bronwyn laughed. That behaviour was his brother down to a ‘T’. He was never a ladies man.

"That goat of yours will do some serious damage one of these days."

“Matilda means well but does not know her own strength.”

David took another drink from his glass.

"Can you reserve a table for two for tonight? I want to take her out to dinner as a way of saying sorry, and thanks for the tax refund at the same time. You'd better book her a room as well."

Bronwyn smiled at her brother and then laughed.

"Don't you have any of Frances' clothes that she could have worn?"

David glared at his sister.
"You know as well as I do, that I don’t, especially as you took most of them and donated the few that were any good to charity? And didn’t the rest of them go in the rubbish?"

"I just wondered if you had any in your bottom drawer?"

"You know very well that only one item remains which was her wedding dress. Hardly appropriate given the circumstances, don't you think? It was her mother's and would be there for you should you ever get wed?"

“I was only wondering if I’d missed anything?”

"You didn't. I left her with the washer and dryer and instructions on feeding Bess. It was clear that Bess was rather taken with her, when she tried to lick the mud from her face. That caused her to forgive me and that dammed goat."

He looked down at the dog.

“Patch decided to jump ship and come with me… didn’t you boy?”

The dog picked up its ears at the sound of its name. When he understood that no food or treats were coming his way, he sank down and closed his eyes to wait for the next command from his master.

Bronwyn laughed.
"So, the inner gentleman in you felt it prudent to beat a hasty exit so as not to embarrass the young lady?"

“Something like that,” said David as he finished his pint.

"But if you have some old clothes, I could borrow? Just in case she can't get the dryer to work?"

His sister smiled and shook her head all at the same time.

“Another one?”

David looked at the clock on the wall behind the bar and thought for a second.
“Please, and a cheese sandwich just to tide me over until this evening plus, I don't want to burst in on her while she is… well, you know what I mean."

Bronwyn began to pour another pint with a grin on her face. At the same time, she was thinking about this mysterious woman who had gotten under her brother's skin. Since the death of his wife, he'd hardly looked at another woman, let alone take her out for a meal. That quiet Wednesday had suddenly gotten a lot more interesting.

---

[two hours later]

“Hello?” said David tentatively as he poked his head around the door to his kitchen.

There was silence. Not even Bess was around to give him a welcome yelp. Her decidedly ancient Fiat 500 was still parked half in the yard and half out of it so she hadn’t done a runner.

After a slight hesitation, he walked into the kitchen getting in the way of Patch who had gone in search of something to eat.
The absence of a pile of dishes in the sink surprised him. Someone and it could only be ‘her’ had done the washing up and tided away. He felt ashamed but dismissed it. The young lady from the Revenue had turned up as announced and he’d taken her into the rarely used dining room to discuss business. If Matilda hadn’t…? It was no use beating himself up. She was way out of his league in so many ways. ‘If only’ was an expression that had crossed his mind at least once a day since the tragic death of his wife.

David stopped mid-stride and allowed himself a small smile as he remembered what his sister had said. She was right in that since the death of his wife Frances he had not looked at another woman even in a half-romantic way.

After a big sigh, David took off his jacket and hung it up. As he was doing so, he noticed a piece of paper propped up against his electric kettle.

“David, Thanks for being such a gentleman earlier. My clothes are airing above the radiator in the back bedroom. I took the liberty of borrowing a pair of boots and an overall. Bess wanted to be taken for a walk after eating a whole bowl of dog food. Don’t worry, I have given Matilda a wide berth,
Detta.”

David breathed a sigh of relief.

For a moment, David wondered if he was losing his mind. Then he heard Bess barking. Patch exited the house at the speed of light. Bess only barked like that when she was close to Matilda. That goat was more than a match for a lowly border collie, but Bess had to make her presence known to her arch-enemy. The arrival of Patch to help his mother would create a stalemate.

He went outside to meet Bernadetta and Bess.

“Hello Ms Rossi,” said David as they walked into the farmyard.

She smiled back at David. For a second, he mistook her for Frances. She looked so like his late wife with her hair tied up with a scarf and wearing overalls.

“Detta please,” she said. That brought his thoughts back to the here and now.
“I’m hardly on the clock dressed like this?”

David tried hard but failed to stop a tear from flowing.

“What’s wrong? Did I do wrong by taking Bess for a walk?”

He shook his head.

“No… It isn’t you. Well… not quite. For a moment, you looked just like my late wife. Sorry, you don’t need to know my silliness.”

Detta stepped closer to him.
“David, I’m sorry for that. I’ll go and get changed right away. Then I’ll be on my way.”

He shook his head.
“Please. I took the liberty of booking you a room at the pub for tonight. I have also booked us a table just so that I can properly say sorry for the inconvenience that both I and Matilda have caused you. Please stay.”

“I’m not sure that I can accept anything from you. Rules and all that stuff.”

“Matilda caused you to get very muddy. It is only right that I can do my best to apologise for her.”

David sighed.
“Matilda was nothing more than a freshly weaned kid when… when my wife died. The idea of raising goats was part of her grand plan to diversify. That other letter I showed you that came from your Mr Thomas Williams, poured scorn on it which made Frances all the more determined to do it. Then you turn up today and say that the advice that we received from the Revenue was all wrong. My mind is not working straight at the moment. I’m sorry. As you well know, this place just ticks over and employing an accountant to do my taxes would wipe out what little profit I make in some years.”

Detta stood back and wondered for a moment why this man whom she had never met before today was telling her this stuff about himself. Then a few words from her now-deceased grandmother came to mind.

She had said 'People grieve in all sorts of ways. Not grieving is the worst of all."

It became clear to her at that moment that he hadn't properly grieved for the loss of his wife.

“I’ll gladly accompany you to dinner tonight,” said Detta with a small smile on her face.

“What about those rules and stuff?”

“Sod them. This is more important,” she replied defiantly.

“As for Matilda? Don’t get even think of getting rid of her because what she did to me. I’m just glad that there were no cameras around to record my embarrassment on social media.”

David was about to say something but instead, he pointed up at the eaves of the barn on the other side of the farmyard.

Detta looked at what he was pointing at. Pointing right at her was a CCTV camera.

“I installed it last year after some drunken scumbags tried to steal my tractor. Luckily, it was broken down at the time but they tried to hot-wire it. Luckily, the battery was on charge in the shed while I waited for a new prop-shaft universal joint to be delivered. The camera is activated by motion. Sorry. I’ll delete the footage right away.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t think that you are the sort of person who will post it all over social media,” said Detta.

David shook his head.
“I’ll delete it just to be sure. One farm down near Pembroke was cleared out by some thieves last year. I mean everything including the kitchen sink was removed all while the farmer was fighting for his life in hospital after a heart attack. I won’t take the chance of them returning and taking the recorder with them.”

Then David changed the subject.
“Why don’t you see if your clothes are dry enough to wear? If, they are I’ll take you down to the village and introduce you to the landlady. She’ll take good care of you.”

Detta laughed.
“I guess that it would cause a scene if I turned up looking like this?”

“That really would set the local gossips on fire. They’ve been a bit starved of food since John Griffiths got busted for being drunk and then slugging a Police Officer after Wales beat England at Rugby in Cardiff to win the Six Nations. If that was not bad enough, John happens to be one of the local Magistrates.”

“Ouch!” exclaimed Detta.

“Yeah. He got 200 hours of community service for his sins.”

Detta disappeared into the house while David gave some attention to Bess. Like Matilda, she was a link back to his late wife. She’d chosen Bess from the litter less than a week before she had so tragically died. Allowing Bess to have a litter of six pups was his feeble attempt at trying to move forward. It had broken his heart to give his brothers and sisters away. He’d nearly given the runt of the litter, Patch to his sister Bronwyn but common sense prevailed at the last minute.

David followed Patch towards the sound of the barking. He breathed a huge sigh when he saw that Matilda was safely locked in her pen as he rounded the corner of the lambing shed. When Bess saw him, she came to heel at his side leaving Patch to guard them all from Matilda.

“I know you missed me, Bess. In a few days, we will begin rounding up the Ewe’s for lambing. I know that you love that don’t you, my girl?”

Bess gave out a little yelp as David knelt down and petted his dog.

[one hour later in the Village]

“Bronwyn!” said David calling out as he entered the Pub.

“I’m in the kitchen,” came a distant voice.

David smiled at Detta.

“She’s probably making sure that we have a good selection of dishes on the menu for this evening.”

Detta was still a bit hesitant about accepting this hospitality but her resistance was weakening all the time and that was troubling her.

Bronwyn appeared behind the bar smiling.
“You must be our guest for the night?”

“That me,” said Detta.

“Sis, meet Bernadetta, the lady from the Revenue and Customs.”

“Please call me Detta.”

“Welcome to the Waggon and Horses, Detta. Let me show you your room?”

Detta smiled.

Bronwyn looked at her younger brother.
“We’ll see you at seven. Not a minute earlier and not a minute later understand?”

David took the hint and beat a hasty exit.

Detta looked a bit worried. Bronwyn saw the look of concern on her face.

“My brother whom I love dearly has… shall we say become rather erratic in his timekeeping.”

Detta didn’t seem convinced.

“Your room is up the stairs. First door on the right. Let me show you?”

Bronwyn showed Detta to her room.
“When you are settled in, come downstairs and I’ll fix us some tea. We don’t open the pub doors until six thirty. Chef will be in at six to finish the prep so we have the place to ourselves for a bit.”

Detta was looking forward to an hour or so on her own before eating but it looked like that was going to be next to impossible. Making small talk was one life skill that had passed her by. Her sister and mother could literally talk the hind legs off a donkey, but she was more like her two brothers in that she was more of a no-nonsense, straight-to-the-point sort of person.

Her room was spacious and functional. To her surprise, some toiletries were lying on the bed. This caused Detta to smile. She was at least being made welcome unlike many of the people she came into contact with as part of her job. Today was one of those rare occasions where things were different even without the incident with Matilda.

Detta looked out of the window. The countryside around the farm and the village was a far cry from her old family home on Barry Island. Getting out of Cardiff and the valleys were always events to saviour as a child. She remembered one family holiday that they’d taken to Prestatyn, on the north coast. It had rained almost non-stop all week. The whole family were depressed and the caravan that they'd rented leaked to make matters worse. It was October because they couldn’t go away during the summer because their family was in the Ice-Cream business.

For Detta, it was a time of release. Despite the rain, she walked the beaches every day. One day, she'd taken the bus to Conwy and had toured the castle. Her family had called the Police as they thought that she'd been abducted. Her mother and father had torn into her in Italian. It was not a nice experience and had not changed her determination to leave them as soon as she could. To reinforce her quest for independence, the next day, she took the train to Llandudno and then the tram up the Great Orme. This time, she’d left a note telling her parents where she was going. That didn’t stop them from planning on haranguing her when she returned.

They were waiting for her in the pouring rain at the top of the Great Orme and getting ready to tear her off a strip but the site of her happy face through the window of the tram made them forget that and give her a nice welcome after all, she was only 7 years old at the time. After that episode, her parents gave her a lot more freedom to roam than her brothers.

She looked around the bedroom and came back to the here and now. It didn’t look all that different from the Bedsit that she rented halfway up a very steep hill in Abercynon. A call from downstairs stopped her daydreaming and wishful thinking.

“Detta, the tea is ready!”

After a sigh, Detta said.
“Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be down.”

“Ok. Take your time, it needs to brew” said Bronwyn from the bottom of the stairs.

After putting a brush through her fairly short hair and checking how she looked in the mirror, she shrugged.
“That will have to do I’m afraid…” she said to herself.

Then she went to meet Bronwyn.

Her host was waiting for her in the Restaurant area of the bar. A teapot complete with knitted cosy was waiting for her. For half a second, Detta thought of the times she’d had tea with her grandmother. Her teapot had a padded cosy but…

“How do you take it?” asked Bronwyn as Detta sat opposite her.

“Just a little milk please.”

“We only have fully leaded milk here I’m afraid. The milkman is due in the morning.”

“Fully leaded?”

Bronwyn let out a small chuckle.
“Sorry. That’s what we call full cream milk around here. It comes from a dairy just a few miles away. We had a load of cyclists in at the weekend. Milk and pints of it all around took all of the semi-skimmed and skimmed, until the next delivery from the Dairy tomorrow.”

“Ah,” said Detta.
"I get you. That's fine," she added trying to remember the last time she'd had that sort of milk.

Detta mentally kicked herself. Her mind had been all over the place since the incident with Matilda. It had been so unexpected that instead of getting angry, she'd managed to laugh at her mud-splattered appearance.

“Now tell me about your encounter with Matilda?” asked Bronwyn.

“Not a lot to tell really. Matilda saw a target as in my backside and hit it dead centre. I ended up face down in the mud. Then Bess came and started licking the mud off. For a second or so, I was angry but the sheer absurdity of the scene made me laugh it off.”

Bronwyn smiled.
“I keep on at David to get those drains in the yard outside the cottage fixed but he always says that money is tight. What happened then?”

“I’m still trying to work that out. So far, the only conclusion I can come up with and I don’t mean to insult your family but I think that he is scared of women. The way he told me how to wash my clothes and then he was gone. It was almost as if he was running away.”

Bronwyn really did laugh this time.

“Detta! I love you. I’ve been saying that for years. Somehow, he found and married a wonderful woman totally out of the blue. He went off to for a short holiday, and came back with a fiancé on his arm.”

“I understand that she died in rather tragic circumstances? David sort of hinted at some sort of accident and I think that he blames himself.”

“He does but it wasn’t his fault. His wife, Frances was out on their quadbike checking on the fences, and it overturned trapping her underneath. She died before David found her. He’d been away getting some silage from another farm down near Llandovery, and was alerted by his then dog, Shep, when he returned. Shep passed away a few months later. She seemed to pine for her mistress.”

The description of how his wife had died shocked Detta.

“That’s why he’s banned quad bikes from his farm. He’s even put a full roll cage in his Land Rover.”

“I saw that notice by the entrance to his place. It all makes sense now.”

“What was worse was that Frances was three months pregnant.”

Detta closed her eyes and tried to imagine the heartache that David must have gone through at the time. To lose a wife and baby in such tragic circumstances was just unimaginable to her.

“That must have hit him hard?” said Detta after she’d opened her eyes.

“It did. It knocked him for six several times over. I spent two months at the farm helping as best I could to get him through it.”

“That must have been hard?”

Bronwyn chuckled.
“I actually enjoyed not being behind the bar. Yes, it was hard work, but I began to appreciate the work that goes into running a farm. You have to just roll up your sleeves and get on with it.”

“You aren’t from a farming background then?” asked Detta.

“Not at all. Our parents were shopkeepers in Penarth, but the growth of the supermarkets… well they got squeezed out. David always had his sights set on becoming a farmer. He went off to Agricultural College and worked on a farm near Hereford before getting the farm here. Our parents then sold up and gave us our inheritance. With my part, I was able to afford to buy the tenancy here.”

“You are obviously close then?”

“We always were. I think it all stemmed from when we both contracted glandular fever at the same time. Two months of being in the same room together made us very close. If we hadn’t done that, it is highly likely that one of us would have killed the other one.”

Detta finished her cup of tea. She looked at Bronwyn and after a small smile, she stood up.

“Thanks for the tea. I have to send a few emails about tomorrow before the evening.”

“My pleasure,” said Bronwyn.
“Detta, can I make a plea to you as a woman?”

Her words slightly stunned Detta.

“What do you mean?”

“All I’m asking is if fate decrees that somehow, you have a relationship with my brother and it goes wrong that you let him down gently. I don’t think that he could survive another sudden breakup.”

“I… I don’t know what you mean?” said Detta slightly stuttering.

“Oh yeah? I can see the glint in your eyes when you talked about David. I didn’t do a Masters in Psychology for nothing…”

[to be continued]