Happenings which brought you to me

Episode #2

#2

Through one of its windows, Erna could see a large pear tree standing defiantly in the rear garden, and many hens, busily searching for worms. The lady pointed to herself and said 'Nancy' and then, finally, she removed her hat and smiled. Nancy pointed at Erna and repeated her name, confirming that this was indeed her name and then gestured with her hands, as though driving the car, to suggest that the man who drove, was her husband, she showed Erna her wedding ring. 'Tom' she said. Erna was fascinated by the array of diamonds and precious stones in Nancy's rings. Nancy then showed Erna the rich mahogany wardrobe with matching chest of drawers and adjustable mirror top. The drawer knobs were ebony, inlaid with ivory motifs,’ Erna's' she said, gently stroking the smooth polished exterior, and presenting it in a manner as to affirm that it was now her’s to use. She then took Erna by the hand and led her along the galleried balcony to the bathroom. It was breathtaking and larger than the entire apartment where she had lived in Germany. A stout Victorian roll-top enamelled bath, complete with clawed feet and gleaming brass taps, stood like some Greek statue dominating the room. An enormous pedestal wash basin with built in mirror, shone like porcelain. Its smooth, ornate lines begging to be caressed, while its companion, a large gentleman's rosewood compactum, presented itself with an air of superiority, reflecting your own image back at you. Nancy tapped the wardrobe and said 'Tom's'. Erna nodded and smiled. Nancy then gestured a drinking motion and said 'tea, coffee'? Erna understood and replied, ‘Kaffee bitte’. As they ambled down the stairs, Erna pointed to all the hand coloured photo portraits hanging on the walls. Nancy explained saying... 'mother, father, grandfather, grandmother'. Erna thought how they looked a little spooky, because their eyes followed you as you moved around. The farmhouse had been in the family for generations.

Coffee and cakes seemed such a luxury to Erna, and there was an abundance of various fancies. Nancy was indeed an avid baker, and “cake”, was a staple carbohydrate around Parkside farm, with iced cherry slab-cake (Tom’s favourite), Victoria sponge cake, glued together with homemade strawberry jam and thick whipped cream. There were of course a variety of others fancies and the house kitchen, always gifted the welcoming aroma of baked goods, scented by rich butter and heaped spoonfuls of cascading sugar. A smell that hung in the air like a comforting blanket of decadence. Erna eagerly sampled several slices, which sat precariously balanced upon her small willow-patterned side plate. She didn’t hang about and wolfed them down with immediate effect. Hopeful mutts sat expectantly poised to grab midair, anything which might fall… not a chance! The image of her Aunt’s broth was now quickly fading and although just a few short days ago, it seemed like she had woken up from a dream, or perhaps, was in a dream; either way, she was happy being where she was.

After thoroughly enjoying the cake experience, Nancy cleared the dishes and Erna rubbed her tummy, accompanied by a huge grin. Nancy then proceeded to “officially” introduce all the rooms of the house to Erna and for improved orientation, they began outside. Walking around the house perimeter, through the white picket fence gate and into the front garden, Nancy pointed out several graves, which were ancestors of the current dogs, going back over many generations. Each baring their name, that they may not be forgotten. Nancy also pointed out the Beautiful heavy oak front door with stained glass panels and a brass door handle that seemed too large for one hand. A majestic slate roofed porch embraced the doorway, supported by its ornate and heavily carved exterior. There was a summer house too, which housed the petrol lawn mower, deck chairs, and obligatory lawn games, for that time… croquet, tennis rackets, and so on. They doubled back and re-entered through the “working” entrance, Erna stopping momentarily to breathe in the wonderful Lonicera, still gifting its splendid perfume. The working entrance was the primary inlet to the house, from the main drive and where visitors were received (except on very special occasions, or during the summer evenings).

It opened immediately into the “back kitchen”, which housed a huge Belfast sink, complete with pink carbolic soap. A large marble topped drawer set and an enormous black cast-iron range, which was lit during the winter months, so naturally, it was already throwing out a generous supply of warmth, comparable to the sun during June and July. Erna picked up the soap to smell it, a smell that would become a frequent aroma as it was used extensively throughout lambing season, to sterilise hands, and equipment needed to aid difficult births. Erna’s small hands would be put to great use very soon! To the far end of this red and black quarry floor tiled room, a heavily painted blue door led into the back garden, where Erna had previously seen the large pear tree through her bedroom window. Nancy opened the door briefly and a few dozen hens ran towards it. Sadly, no scraps this time. There was an internal panelled staircase built into the wall, with its own door leading to a separate large “bed-sit” above the back kitchen. The bare pine staircase made it impossible to tread quietly which seemed to hit Erna’s funny bone as she couldn’t stop giggling while clomping up the hollow staircase. The “back stairs room” currently housed the best riding tack reserved for Fox hound meets, all gleaming and lavishly infused by years of saddle soap, giving off that unmistakable smell. This particular room and stairs looked like they had never actually been used as a bedsit, the original bare plaster walls showed no signs of paint and the pine floorboards were completely unblemished. There was an unused fireplace in there also, again, no signs of usage. Erna gently stroked the gleaming leather saddles, which felt like satin to the touch and had developed the most attractive patina. Clomping back downstairs, the third door off the back kitchen, led into the day room. This is where the family would sit during rest periods and would often witness fireside ‘teas’ during busy harvesting times, along with impromptu visits from friends.