Chapter (6) At the end of the day.

          I carefully backed the borrowed tractor a little way onto the field in readiness to pull the trailer free. The chain was once again fastened to the tow hitch on the trailer and I started to move very carefully forwards.  The empty trailer came free and once it was on firm ground we removed the chain and fitted the trailer directly onto the tractor. I moved the trailer to the field edge and left it there. The sun was relentless in the clear sky. Boy it was getting hot.

          Monsieur Sabatier had been to visit madam and was now making his way down the field towards us. I could see him looking around at the devastation as he stepped over the broken pipes.

  "Salut Clive, Salut Domi"

"Roger" (pronounced Ro-zjay) I nodded very slightly to acknowledge his greeting.

"Vous avez tous-qu'il faut?" "Do you have all that you need?"

"J'ai pensé de planter des salads maintenant, Qu'est ce que vous en penser?" "I was thinking about planting salads, what do you think?"

"Oui ca vira." "Yes that will do"

"Ok mais nous avons rien ici"  "ok but we don't have any"

"Pas de problem, nous avons des petit plantes, combien on a besoin?"  "We've got some seedlings how many do you need?"

I told him we'd need about a hundred, he had a quick look around and agreed that would probably do the job. He left to arrange it.  I didn't expect him to return for an hour or so which would give us plenty of time to prepare the ground.

  Dominique was already using the rake to gather up bits of mashed courgette and leaves. The smaller bits were drying up and disappearing as the day progressed. The fine mustard coloured soil flowed effortlessly against the tines of the rake then passed between them to leave tiny ridges in it's' wake. The symmetry of this was lost on Dominique who was absorbed in his task. I joined him and using a shovel started to rebuild the damaged ridges.  I removed any remaining damaged plants and we made a small pile on the edge of the field.

"De l'eau." "Water." I signalled to Dominique with a hand gesture holding an invisible glass and taking a drink from it.

I received a nod in reply and together made our way over to the picnic box.  Took a bottle and passed it to Dominique, I took the other and as the first mouthful of the cold water relieved my tongue I let a little dribble from my mouth and run down my chin and neck onto my chest. I bent forward and poured a little onto the back of my head, Ahrrr cold.

The sad 'V' shaped water pipe lay, where it had landed after its' brief attempt at escape, across a bed of broken green leaves. Any traces of water had long since dried away in the heat of the day. It was clear to see that the pipe was beyond repair. I bent down to pick it up and was shocked by how hot it had become. Not unbearable but I'd have preferred to be wearing gloves. These alloy pipes are very light.  I slung it over my shoulder and together we moved to the trailer. I placed the pipe on the bed of the trailer and returned to retrieve the other damaged sections from the day's events. The three broken pipes lay together on the trailer bed. One looked as though it was repairable but the other two would be sent to the scrap metal pile behind the old forge. Such an undignified way to end up after years of loyal service.

  The work was progressing well and the two of us soon had things looking less like a battlefield. While I went off to get three new sections of pipe from an adjacent field, Dominique started to clear away the tools. Planting the lettuce could easily be done by hand in the soft soil.   

          As we worked steadily, I spied Khanchouf walking briskly down the road with a huge green chemical sprayer on his back. He didn't look up or acknowledge he'd seen us. I wanted to shout and wave but quickly thought better of it. I would go visit Khanchouf this evening. Give him time to calm down and then I'd ask him to come and evaluate the repairs we had done.

Sabatier returned around three in the afternoon with two trays of baby frisée lettuce called Chicoree, a curly leaf bitter tasting variety popular in this area. The planting went without incident and as I scooped out the holes and dropped a baby lettuce in each one, Dominique followed me and watered them well to give the tiny plantlets a good start.  Clara had rejoined us and the three of us worked through the heat to complete the job in hand.

It was late by the time we finished cleaning up and Dominique and his wife walked away, tired. I had a last look at our efforts and turned to head back to my little caravan. I was just a few feet from the end of the field when I stopped. 

          There in front of me, sitting quietly side by side on patch of dry grass at the edge of the field, forgotten by all, was a pair of ladies shiny black high heeled dress shoes. 

Author's Note

I think I've rushed the ending. It doesn't seem right to me.
Advice please.

Reviews

[Kathy Van Kurin]

"Chaper (6) At the end of the day"
Mad Englishman,
This was a satisfying narrative. I understand planting and working in the sun. Lettuce is a lovely thing to harvest but is loved by slugs. The soil sounded so fertile and nice! The ending is a delight and gives something surprising to anticipate!
Blessings,
Kathy

[MAD ENGLISHMAN]

Thank you for taking the time to read my stories. I'm going back next year to visit all my old friends and to visit all the places I had such fun working in. Maybe It will bring back memories and incidents I'd forgotten.

[Kathy Van Kurin]

I hope you will. It sounds like a valuable and great opportunity. I am glad to read your fun and interesting stories. They are wonderful!
Blessings...........