Journey’s End. Josephine Cox
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it slid to the ground. For what seemed an age, the mother did not move. Instead she stood, head hanging, resting. Then suddenly she turned to her offspring and began licking away the slimy, covering membrane.
Moments later, the lamb stood up, its legs unsteady and its head seeming far too large for its tiny body. It gave itself a shake, fell over and struggled up again, and in an incredibly short time, it was searching out its mammy’s teat.
Mary was thrilled. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘Have you never seen a lamb born before?’ Ben had seen it many times now, and each time was just as wonderful as the last.
‘I’ve never seen one actually being born,’ Mary admitted. ‘I’ve walked the fields at different times and I’ve seen the newborns playing and skipping, but I’ve never actually seen a ewe giving birth.’
‘Have you ever touched a newborn lamb?’
‘Never.’
‘Would you like to?’
She was surprised. ‘Won’t the mother be hostile?’
Ben shook his head. ‘No.’
‘Then yes, I’d like that.’
They waited a while, until mother and newborn had bonded and the young one had its fill of milk. Then, with great care and talking to the mother as he went, Ben led Mary across the paddock.
He did not take the newborn straight away. Instead he gestured for Mary to be still; he murmured to the sheep that he was just as proud of her baby as she was, and that he meant no harm except to show her off and then return her. But the mother displayed little interest in them, and when he reached down to lift the newborn into his arms, she merely stood and watched, almost as though she knew he meant no harm.
At first, the little one struggled, but Ben secured the squirming bundle and holding it towards Mary, told her to smell its coat.
Nervously, Mary leaned towards the tiny creature and sniffed at its coat. ‘It smells warm, and tangy … like fresh-made marmalade,’ she laughed. ‘Can I touch her?’
When he nodded, she reached out and stroked her fingers over its fleece; the sensation was like nothing she had ever experienced. Beneath her touch, the tight curls of fleece felt hard and wiry. She was amazed. ‘I thought it would be soft to the touch,’ she said in wonderment.
Before returning the lamb to its mother, Ben dipped a finger in the fluid which had cradled the newborn and was now lying in little pockets in the grass. He then wiped it over the back of the lamb and returned it to its anxious mother, who ran her tongue over its back before leading it away, contented.
Mary was curious. ‘Why did you do that?’
Ben explained, ‘Sometimes, a ewe will reject a lamb if she’s not sure it’s hers. We’ve both handled the lamb and we’ve left our smell on it. By wiping the fluid on its back, I made sure she could smell and recognise her newborn, so there would be no doubt in her mind.’
This had been a day that Mary would always remember. She had made love with her husband-to-be and witnessed the miracle of birth, almost as a sign of the babies that she might have, one day in the future. But for now, she was anxious to get home and talk with her mother. For the moment, there were other important issues that needed to be resolved.
Lucy saw them arrive. ‘They’re back now,’ she told Adam, who had been polishing the car and was now enjoying the sandwich Lucy had brought him.
‘Good!’ Finishing his sandwich, he excused himself. ‘I’ll away and get out of these overalls.’
‘Don’t be long, will you?’ Strange how with every passing day, Lucy needed him to be more a part of everything she did.
Adam was thrilled but doubtful. ‘Are you sure you want me to stay?’
‘Yes, Adam, I’m sure.’ Lucy had no doubts. ‘You’ve always been a part of all this.’
‘Right then. I’ll go and get washed up. Give me ten minutes or so. Oh, and thanks for the sandwich.’ He handed her the plate. ‘It was tasty as always, though a bit more pickle would not have come amiss.’ With that he gave a mischievous wink and hurried away.
Lucy went outside and waited for her daughter and Ben to climb out of his car. ‘You’ve had a delivery this morning,’ she told her daughter. ‘It’s near the greenhouse.’
Mary, who was looking more beautiful than her mother had ever seen her, had completely forgotten. ‘What sort of a delivery?’
‘A load of rotting manure,’ Lucy groaned. ‘Adam helped to fork it off the cart, and by God does it stink! I can even smell it from the kitchen.’
‘You won’t grumble when I’ve dug it into the ground to produce fat cabbages and juicy carrots,’ Mary grinned. ‘Anyway, we had another sort of delivery today, didn’t we, Ben?’
Ben was absent-mindedly running the flat of his hand along the side of Lucy’s car. ‘Adam keeps this car beautiful,’ he said. ‘It’s a credit to him.’
‘Ben!’ Mary gave him a nudge. ‘I was just saying, we had another kind of delivery today, didn’t we?’
‘We certainly did … the first of the spring lambs decided to make an appearance,’ he announced proudly. ‘And we saw the whole thing, from birth to suckling.’
Mary eagerly imparted the bones of her little adventure. ‘I stroked its coat. I always thought it would be soft and downy,’ she told her mother excitedly, ‘but it was harsh to the touch, and tight as a coiled spring.’
‘I could have told you that,’ Lucy teased. ‘Your daddy once had a whole flock of sheep. Spring was always the best time, when the lambs were born and I could sit on the tree-stump by the edge of the woods and watch them frisking and leaping about.’
Before her memories could overwhelm her again, she announced briskly, ‘Come inside. I have something to tell you.’
By the time they strolled to the kitchen door, Adam was already there, washed and changed and looking apprehensive. ‘Hello, you two!’ he greeted them. Stepping aside, he waited for the family to pass before following them across the hallway and into the drawing room.
When they were all seated – Ben and Mary on the sofa together, Adam in the leather armchair and Lucy in the matching chair beside him, she told them all, ‘For a long time now, I’ve been toying with the idea of going back North.’ As she went on, the nervousness disappeared and a calm strength emerged. ‘It won’t be an easy thing for me to do. There will be other people living in Barney’s old house now, and strangers farming the land.’
She grew wistful, eyes downcast. ‘The memories will still be there though, in the fields and the cottage. Memories that will never leave me … such joy and regret, and oh, the laughter we all shared.’ Such laughter, such joy, friendship and the yearning for a man she believed could never be hers.
Swallowing hard, she looked up to see her daughter silently coaxing her to go on. Bracing herself, she cleared her throat and in a firm voice told them, ‘A visit is long overdue, and now with time seeming to pass ever more quickly, I won’t leave it any longer. I have a very old friend in Doctor Lucas, as I’m sure you’re all aware of by now. He knows me well,’ glancing at Adam, she instinctively reached out and took hold of his hand, ‘almost as well as my good friend, Adam.’
Turning a deep shade of pink, Adam smiled. ‘Doctor Lucas is a fine man,’ he remarked. ‘It will be good to see him again, I’m sure.’
Mary had a question for Lucy. ‘Have you told him you’re coming?’
‘Not yet, no.’
‘When do you intend going?’
Lucy shook her head. ‘I’m not sure. I’ve only just made the decision. In a couple of weeks’ time, maybe? I’ll write