Isla’s Summer

“No, we were okay. We were watching the sun go down, as in that corner of the farm we were higher up and the sky turned a wonderful purple.”

Mum read between the lines as we both blushed and we turned the conversation to something more comfortable, like how wonderful the garden was looking now, but maybe it needed some rain.

“Don’t forget tomorrow’s the fifteenth when we’re gown choosing and taking Sally to afternoon tea. I was going to pop into Hereford and see if I can buy her a card and something nice.”

“Oh… I’d completely forgotten.”

That put my plan to ride George later into jeopardy, as I hadn’t brought her either a card or present.

“Mum, can I join you? With all the excitement and work, I’ve forgotten all about it.”

“What time would you like to go?”

“Well, I need to finish up, and then we’ll need lunch… Now I can find Gary, we can drop off his sandwiches then go.”

“How about you and I drop off Gary’s sandwiches, then treat ourselves to lunch somewhere?”

Bless mum, I’ve been neglecting her and been paying all my attention to Gary and the Barnes clan.

“That sounds like a much better plan. It won’t take me long to finish up.”

Back in my office, I finished my work to a suitable break point. Then popped into my bedroom to change into a nice summer skirt and blouse. Mum was ready when I returned downstairs, and I made up some fresh sandwiches for Gary.

Looking at the phone app, I could see Gary and Cat were up in the next field to where we were last night. Helen was moving along one of the lanes, with Barney going in the other direction. Sally was moving up the lane to the pigpen.

I text Gary to tell him the change of plans and we would be up to give him his lunch. Mum and I jumped in her car and set off. Once on the farm, we drove around on the lanes to the field where they were working. We parked by the gate where Gary met us.

After a quick kiss, I passed on his lunch, promising to see him later. Cat passed us high in her tractor’s cab, following the combine. She waved and signed, “Hi, see you tomorrow.”

Mum and I returned, back past the farmhouse to see Helen returning the other way, also high in a tractor pulling one of the grain trailers. She similarly signed, “Hi, see you tomorrow.”

It wasn’t too far to drive to Hereford and park. Being a weekday, the centre was quiet, so we both felt more comfortable sauntering around, initially in window shopping mode. We headed for a cafe mum likes and could find seating before the lunchtime rush.

It was nice to sit with mum and just chat over things. It impressed her to have seen both Cat and Helen signing to me that morning. Then we got onto what to buy Sally for her birthday. Mum had seen some nice scarves in a shop the last time she was shopping, that Sally might like.

I was in a quandary… I wanted to impress Sally’s with something, preferably small and sweet, rather than large and ostentatious, to keep in with Gary’s mother…

“She loves teapots and has quite a collection.”

As soon as mum spoke, I remembered seeing the top shelves of the Welsh dressers in her kitchen, filled with lines of cute teapots, large and small. There are some antique and bric-à-brac shops dotted around we could scour.

“What about perfume? She can’t get much chance to wear any. I may have caught a whiff of some once, but I couldn’t tell you what it was.” Mum offered.

Once lunch was over, that was it we had our shopping list… The scarf was simple to buy. We spent the rest of the afternoon zigzagging around Hereford, dodging in and out of shops. We sniffed and sampled our way through fashion shops and dusted our way through a myriad of different shops hunting for teapots.

Several hours later, we ended our shopping spree in a coffee shop, surrounded by bags, sipping tea. Not only buying presents for Sally but also a few things for ourselves. It had been lovely for mum and I to reconnect as friends, as well as mother and daughter.

Once back at home, I checked my emails and realised that I could clear my desk for a few days with a little work that evening. I text Gary and made sure he didn’t have plans. By the time Gary responded, I was already deep into my work. Thankfully, he hadn’t made plans, so I sent him a quick reply that I will see him the following evening.

Whilst I had a long evening, I got a lot done across the board. Not only commissions but also on my children’s book. At last I led in bed quite pleased with myself, looking forward to a big day tomorrow when I will take another step outside of my hermit lifestyle.

The next morning, it felt like the first day of spring. I felt the polar opposite energy wise, to earlier that week after the late nights. This time Murphy kept away and there were no commissions waiting in my inbox. As a result, I finished the instruction manual and returned it to the client.

Mum and I were ready and full of excitement when Helen pulled into the drive at eleven. Cat burst out of the Disco, with Helen hot on her heels to encourage us both into the car. I felt so included as both girls giggled and bursting with energy, whilst also signing furiously.

They had the knack of emotion, mouthing the word and signing in sync, even if they still fell back on some homemade signs if they didn’t know or forgot a sign.

We looked like a clutch of hens as we bustled our way across Hereford’s streets, all excited with our hands and arms flapping, signing. I realised that the two sisters were competitive, with or without Gary.

We arrived at the shop a few minutes early, but they were ready. They ushered us into a separate room with large wall mirrors and curtained off changing room. There were lounging sofas, a pedestal, and a small table containing a bottle of Prosecco sitting in a bucket of ice surrounded by glass flutes. The shop assistants knew the sisters’ well, and they immediately produced a second bottle and bucket.

Along one wall was a wheel able clothes rack, full of ball gowns of every colour imaginable. Before you knew it, Helen charged four flutes with Prosecco and handed them out. Mum introduced herself to the assistant and explained that she could translate my signing and I could lipread the assistant.

The two sisters were incorrigible, signing behind mum teasing me, smiling and pulling faces… The assistant tried to explain that, if I liked one style but not the colour, they can check stock of other stores and see if they can ship in the colour and size of the style I liked for the date of the ball.

Soon it was like a scene from ‘Cinderella’. With the two sisters pulling dresses out, holding them up to me, themselves and commenting to mum, the assistant and me… The poor assistant rolled her eyes at one point but was obviously used to having these two tornados in her shop.

Not wanting to alienate mum, I tried to slow things down and give her first choice some attention. All the time, the sisters dove in and out with their choices, which changed almost by the minute.

Soon I had a selection to try on, and I moved to the changing room. I had taken Helen’s advice wearing some plain simple underwear and a slip on dress. It was easy to swap into the first dress and stand on the podium to spin and see myself in the mirror.

Mum and the terrible twosome sat on the sofas, commenting and signing, good and bad. The first I discounted and moved to the second… Then the third… by the fourth, I was getting worried. We were more than halfway down the rack.

The cork from the second bottle flew past me as I stood on the pedestal, but I could see their faces showing that this wasn’t the one either… Mum was having a ball herself and the girls were great fun to be with. Then Helen stood up to take over.

“We need something that droops here… but lifts here. Gary needs to see her boobs… Less here, to show those shoulders… And a little more here… More flouncy, if you are going to dance?”

“Can Gary dance?”

Both girls nodded, but the same question over my ability to not hear the music immediately rose. I beckoned mum over and stood down off the pedestal. Mum took the man’s role as Cat pulled the sofa’s back to make more space.

Mum counted me in with her hand and we set off, with no music, only my internal metronome ticking away, keeping in check with mum’s finger tap, tap, tapping. The girls cheered and clapped, used it as an excuse to recharge their glasses. The shop assistant also joined in the clapping.

We showed them the technique and asked, “Do you think Gary can keep time?”

“Yes, oh yes… He is quite a dancer,” Helen chimed in, but then bit her lip, suggesting there was something more to this.

“Tell them how you know…” Cat demanded.

“Mum used to enter us into dance competitions when younger.”

We all squealed with laughter. Poor Helen, she looked ashamed but laughed with us. She dove into the last section of the clothes rack to hide. Then she pulled out a rich scarlet gown, draping it over herself.

“Isla, you will be stunning in this…”

Mum didn’t agree, but I did like the richness of the colour and the satin shimmered in the light. Helen helped me swap out of the one dress and into the chosen one. I immediately knew it was the right one. It fitted perfectly. I almost glided to the pedestal and stepped up.

Helen’s mouth opened, hopefully in admiration. “Very Jessica Rabbit, you look wonderful.”

Spinning on the pedestal, I could see myself in the mirrors. It looked perfect. Helen held me to a stop and fluffed ruffles here and there, gleeful of her choice. I looked down at mum… Now sitting on the sofa, drink in hand, the alcohol catching up with her… With a tear in her eye.

Cat put her arm around her and tried to make light of it. “She looks lovely, just think of the fun we’ll have choosing a white dress for her.”

Mum burst into tears at the implication…

Seeing mum, full of emotion over choosing a ball gown, brought to tears with only the insinuation of me choosing a wedding dress, brought me to join her in floods of tears…

I stepped down and threw myself to hug mum, now in tears, myself…

Suddenly, the weight of Helen dropped on us, pulling the three of us into an enormous bear hug.

It wasn’t until Helen released us, we could stand… All of us a little embarrassed, and wiping tears from our eyes, looking around at us all, mum started laughing…

“Silly girls… All of us… This is so much fun…”

She stepped over to me and started fluffing the gown back up.

“I’d never have thought scarlet would be your colour, but that deep red, with your blond hair, is perfect. Helen was right… Just enough cleavage to promise…”

“Mum..!”

I squealed with all the air in my lungs, but seeing everyone else’s faces, it must have come out as some awful screech.

Mum got the assistant to take a photo of the four of us and then with the assistant went around checking hems, ruffles, the lace trimming and zips. It was amazing. There was no need to take any material in or let any out. The waist was like a shimmering bodice, with false lacing at the back.

We confirmed to the assistant that this was our choice. She took my details, the dates I wanted to collect and return the dress, noting the size and, of course, she took a deposit. With formalities taken care of, I had one last twirl and changed back into my dress.

By the time we were ready to leave, both bottles were upside down in their buckets and we were all feeling the effects. We had a little time, but with so many diversions in shop windows as we passed, we would be late. Mum took over and shepherded us to the Castle House Hotel.

As we walked through the hotel reception, we met Sally, admitting she was early. As she greeted us all and we all wished her a happy birthday, a receptionist walked us through to our table at the rear of the hotel, at a window overlooking the garden.

The large round table was perfect, with silverware, napkins in swan shapes, china and high chairs. Mum and I gave Sally her cards and our presents.

“Thanks, that is lovely, but there was no need to give them to me now… You could have waited until the barbecue tonight, and then you wouldn’t have had to carry them around today.” Sally explained.

Mum and I looked at Sally, then her daughters…

“Didn’t Gary invite you?” Cat asked.

Even before I shook my head, Helen was texting Gary.

“After your party Isla, mum asked if we could have family around for something similar. So dad and Gary are setting up a barbecue in the garden for this evening before the weather deteriorates for the weekend.”

My smart watch vibrated… I pulled my phone from my bag, guessing correctly that it would be a text from Gary.

< I’m sorry. I thought the sisters from hell had invited you. Yesterday, you said you would see me this evening, so I assumed they had told you. >

< Yes… See you, as in see you… Just you and me. Xx >

< Sorry love. I’m putting up the bar now and will get you your first drink when you arrive. Xx >

“What’s Gary’s excuse?” Cat asked.

“He said… He thought you asked me.”

“No we never, we thought he did.” Helen cut in.

“I’m sorry Isla, we honestly thought Gary had invited you.” Cat confirmed.

Sally was visibly upset. “Isla, I even told him to be sure you knew, as I would like your mum and dad there as well… I’m sorry Pat, I know it is short notice, but we pulled it forward as the weekend weather is due to be showery.”

“The thing is, did Barney ask David?” Mum answered, pulling her phone out and texting…

Sally was reciprocating, texting Barney. I could almost feel the annoyance in the air, seeing fingers tapping away at their phones.

Then, just as I felt my stomach rumbling, feeling a little tipsy after multiple glasses of Prosecco, without any food to soak it up. A long line of staff arrived, carrying pots of tea, with options of coffee and several three tier display trays.

The atmosphere changed visibly with the prospect of food, as we asked one of the staff to take some photographs of us with the china and silverware. Soon after, with china teacups charged, we toasted Sally a happy birthday and tucked into the finger-sized sandwiches.

“Do you think I should try these fish finger sized sandwiches on Gary?” I signed, causing Cat and Helen to laugh, whilst Sally had to wait until mum translated.

As we worked through the dainty sandwiches, once again the playful competitiveness came out of Cat and Helen. Teasing each other with stories and then came a ‘below the belt blow’ from Cat. Asking Sally to tell mum and I about Gary and Helen’s championship winning dancing.

Sally told us all about how, when the two were younger, she would take the pair around the country to compete in traditional dance competitions.

“So Gary will be okay to dance with Isla at the ball?” Mum asked, but already knew the answer from Helen earlier. But she was dying to share the photo of me in my ball gown with Sally.

“Isla, you look beautiful,” Sally exclaimed, looking at our photo from earlier.

“And us…” Helen said, mimicking a coy face, fluttering her eyelids.

“Yes… you both do too,” replied Sally, rolling her eyes at the two grown women.

As we were all giggling, both mum and Sally reviewed their phones.

“Men… They’re in cahoots.” Sally said, “It’s all your fault girls.”

Mum nodded as she read hers… “David says Barney never told him… Hang on, let me ask him where he is now.”

Mum laughed… “I’ve told him as we’re in Hereford and we’ve drunk too much. I’ve told him, we’ll meet him at work, for him to drive us home. This will expose any skulduggery.”

All of us burst into laughter… Although Sally was also texting…

“I’m asking Barney if David is helping him set up the barbecue, as promised,” Sally said.

“So you know David is with dad?” Cat asked.

“No, but let’s call their bluff.”

We continued to chat and tease, whilst finishing the last of the sandwiches, and Sally opened our presents. Thankfully, she loved her scarf and the two teapots I had found. Cat and Helen rolled their eyes at the prospect of having yet more teapots in the house.

Throughout our tea party, the staff kept our teapots topped up. Then one arrived with a tray of four large chocolate cup cakes. Handing us one each and giving Sally the one with a lit candle in it, which she had no trouble blowing out.

It was fun, chatting and eating, with Helen acting like the mad hatter, minus a hat. By the time we were polishing the last of the cakes off, mum smiled and pulled her phone out to see a text.

“Well, well, well… David has come clean. He left work early, after a text from Barney… To help with a barbecue.” Mum told us, frowning.

Sally checked her phone, “Oh, I missed one from Barney, yes, David is with him.”

We all had a sarcastic ‘Witches of Eastwick,’ coven for a few moments, cackling and cursing the men in our lives, whilst still loving them. Even though I could see flashes of guilt across Cat and Helen’s eyes about who was to tell whom, about the barbecue.

It was so nice to be around the table with these women at this moment in time. Three of which I had no social interaction with as an adult. I’d thoroughly enjoyed shopping and choosing a ball gown with Cat and Helen, more so as my mum was with us. This moment felt special, a key moment in my extraction from my self-imposed hermitage.

With plates long emptied and cups drained, Sally decided it was time to find out what mess we had to clear before guests appeared at the farm. I now felt less tipsy. After what felt like buckets of tea and some finger food, the prosecco effect had gone.

Mum joined Sally to drive her car back, and I stayed with Helen and Cat. The ride back was fun, especially as Cat has expanded her signing vocabulary. I really felt a kindred spirit with the both of them, despite our differences.

We arrived before mum, and Sally to find the farmhouse transformed. Bunting announcing ‘Happy Birthday’ spread over the front of the large timber gazebo. Strategically placed around were balloons, with garden lights spanning across the whole garden.

Dad’s camping gazebo was up with dad and Barney already working the barbecue underneath, spatulas in hand. Extra tables and chairs were out with a bar set up on some barrels, under a second camping gazebo.

There were some cars already parked and a few people in the garden chatting. Cat immediately introduced me, as ‘Isla, Gary’s girlfriend’. Helen went to the bar and immediately poured us some more Prosecco, then returned to make sure their guests had drinks.

They introduced various uncles and aunts. A smartly dressed Gary in casual jeans and a nice collared T-shirt appeared through the gate with an elderly couple, having collected his grandparents. He was , bringing his grandparents over to introduce them.

From his grandmother’s features, these were Sally’s parents. They were polite and his grandmother kept hold of my hand after our handshake.

“Gary’s been telling me all about you, but he never said how lovely you are dear.”

“Aw Gran…”

Then it seemed his grandmother was waiting for me to say something, but with her holding my hand, I couldn’t sign. I tried to speak, but there was no way she could hear my weak, squeaky voice.

Gary placed his hand on ours. “Gran, she needs her hands to speak.”

She released her soft hold, so I could respond, signing, “That is so kind, thank you.”

Gary translated, “She says, thanks Gran, that’s kind of you, but you also have a handsome grandson,” he winked at me, whilst grinning at his adaptation.

“That’s alright dear, but I’m not your Gran dear, I’m Iris and this is Adam.”

Iris had a nice summer dress on, whilst I was a little underdressed in something plain and felt boring, knowing my underwear was just as plain, now I was with Gary. We chatted a little more as she asked about my choice of ball gown and afternoon tea with Sally. Making me realise Gary had kept her up to date on events.

Slowly, more people arrived, including mum and Sally. Mark and Kevin arrived with two dogs in tow that immediately made a beeline for Helen, talking to another group of relatives. Both called ‘hi’ to Gary and I, whilst also signing to me, as they made their way to their respective girlfriends.

Gradually Gary and I made our way around guests, getting to know his relatives better. Every time we passed either Cat or Helen, they would gibe each other about whose fault the lack of communication was.

Looking around, I realised that both mum and Sally had returned to their motherly roles and were busy ensuring people had plates, condiments, drinks and were tidying up as they went.

“Gary, this is a party for your mum… And yet you, Cat and Helen are partying whilst our mum’s work, come on…” I walked him to his mother taking the bin bag of rubbish off her and passed it to Gary.

“Sally, this is your party. You shouldn’t be working. Grab a drink and talk to your friends.”

Gary translated.

Sally thanked me but looked sceptically at Gary and her two daughters that were still lounging with their boyfriends.

“Don’t worry, we’ll look after the party, enjoy yourself.”

Again, Gary translated, and I pulled him away over to Sally and Helen.

After scolding the two sisters, I put them to work. Helen at the bar, making sure everyone had a drink. Even keeping a kettle running and teapot for any nominated drivers or teetotal amongst them.

Cat went over to the barbecue and whilst leaving dad and Barney to the cooking, she arranged plates, cutlery, baps, bread and butter. Soon Cat had a line queuing up for food with dad and Barney serving.

Gary and I ran around clearing empty glasses, used napkins and clearing areas to eat. We made sure everyone had whatever he or she needed to eat or drink. Gary got the hang of signing across distances, being able to ask or answer questions voiceless.

Soon, things were running like clockwork. Mum pulled me to a table on the one side of the garden where we sat with cups of tea, to nibble at some salad and burgers mum had gotten. It was idyllic, with the flowers, balloons providing colour and the fields surrounding us reflecting gold in the dying sunlight.

The multicoloured garden lighting was now more prominent as the sun dropped. Not for the first time sat there with mum, sipping tea, I searched Gary out, just to watch and admire him. My mind again drifted to how we could find some ‘us’ time for us to be alone, to break the sexual duck we were experiencing.

Gary was sitting with his grandparents at a table, beer in hand, chatting. Whilst they were on the other side of the garden, I could lip-read his grandmother easily…

“… She’s so pretty Gary. You’re going to have to marry her…”

“Gran…”

“No. Gary, I’m not joking… A girl as pretty as that will not hang around long if you play that butch, hard, male arrogance. Someone is going to swoop in and snatch her up.”

“Gran… It’s not that easy, she’s been to university… She’s brilliant, why would she want a country bumpkin like me?”

“Right, young man, you listen good… Your mother has told me about how bright she is, how she’s helped with the applications and how she’s tracking tractors on her phone to help her. She’s even ridden George and got you smitten… She augments you, you know what that word means, don’t you? You’re not daft. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up with some big bosomed farming girl like your sisters, to bully and badger you for eternity.”

Both Gary and I shivered at the thought. I was keen for the conversation to continue, but mum nudged me.

“Isla, I can see what you’re doing, it’s rude to listen in on a private conversation.”

Mum had always told me off for lip-reading other conversations, but it has saved me many times and kept me up to date on many subject, social or otherwise. A guest was now in my line of sight and just as I was about to give up, they moved.

“Gary, there are no two ways about it, you need to marry that girl.”

“I know Gran… I’ve known all along… It’s just that she doesn’t know it… Yet”

As Gary spoke, he looked across the garden, directly at me before I could look away, then two guests drifted across to obscure the view.

Mum saw me blush and look away. She frowned but didn’t voice her annoyance. She couldn’t have read Gary’s lips as I had. My mind raced with his words to his grandmother ‘I’ve known all along.’

I had to find a distraction for my mind, so I cleared our empty plates and went to help Cat. We cleared the remnants of the food away, then started inviting people up for trifles, cheesecake and sweets.

I was wondering how busy Sally, Cat and Helen must have been preparing all these when I realised they were all too perfect for homemade produce. Also, noticing supermarket boxes and wrappers in the bin bags underneath the table.

At an appropriate time, Barney appeared carrying an enormous chocolate cake with a ring of candles around it, prompting everyone to sing ‘Happy Birthday” to Sally. Gary hunted me out and, placing an arm around me, he pulled me in as he sang. Barney placed the cake ceremoniously onto a table and invited Sally to blow out the candles.

After everyone finished clapping, Gary turned to me, “Sorry I’ve been neglecting you.”

“No, you haven’t, you’ve been busy as well. I’ve tried to help; after all, it is your mother’s birthday.”

“Yes… Sorry, we were all selfish… Thanks for the kick up the arse… Certainly those two lazy so and so’s needed it…”

“Now, now… They’ve been busy too and because you’ve not yet asked… My ball gown is going to knock your socks off…”

Pecking me on the lips, he signed, “Helen said, she loves it, wants to change hers now, but it’s too late…”

I smiled, poor Helen. I felt sorry for her, after seeing me in a size ten knock out dress. It’s not as if she isn’t fit or busy and I have never seen her eating much at all. Then Gary looked serious.

“I saw you watching me talking with Gran… Were you reading my lips?”

I gave my answer away by blushing… “That’s for me to know… And you to find out.”

I teased, trying a tactic Sarah used to use with her boyfriends. The look on Gary’s face told me it didn’t wash, and he thought he knew enough.

Then, saying no words, he signed, “Isla… As you now know… I love you… I think I always have…”

His head shot to his right, to see a Helen screaming, “Yeah,” with her arms up in the air, in triumph and she then signed across to Cat, who was also looking at her outburst.

“Gary’s admitted it… He loves Isla.”

Gary shot Helen a fierce two-fingered salute, as she bounced her way through curious relatives, totally unawares at the reason for the outbursts of screaming, as Cat had joined Helen with jubilant squealing. On the other side of the garden, Cat was jumping in triumph, arms in the air, as she also ran across the garden towards us.

Cat reached us first, being closer. Gary tried to wriggle free, but she had us wrapped together, laughing with joy. Helen hit us in the largest rugby tackle ever, flooring us all. They squashed me to the ground with Gary and Cat, as Helen squeezed us into a bear hug. The two women laughing and kissed Gary and I on the cheeks… Gary cursed wildly, trying to free himself from his sisters.

As the turmoil diminished with Helen releasing us, we returned to our feet, surrounded by relatives, none the wiser for the outburst. Whilst used to the three siblings roughhousing, they were unsure as to my involvement.

Mum looked at me with the same questioning look.

“It’s okay mum… Gary said he loved me…” I signed, keeping the Barnes relatives none the wiser.

Cat and Helen squealed again, and both signed, “Gary loves Isla… Gary loves Isla… Gary loves Isla.”

Both laughing but when asked, the answer of it being a private joke deflected any further intrusion.

Mum continued to help and tidy up, smiling to herself. I looked across at dad he was full of a few mixed emotions and returned to cleaning the barbecue area. Gary was thoroughly flustered and pulled me to the bar so he could recharge his glass. He offered me a drink, and we drifted back through the relatives to a quieter spot.

“I’m sorry. Those two are the bane of my life. They’re such a pain in the arse.”

“No, Gary… They love you too… They just show it differently.”

“Too?… As in also?… As in you love me also?”

I blushed and pulled him in close… “Yes… I think I do…”

“You only ‘think’ you do?”

He looked quite hurt.

“I’m sorry… I’ve never been… ‘In Love’ so I don’t have a slide rule to gauge it by… I’m being honest here Gary… I miss you when you’re not there and I can’t take my eyes off you, when you are…”

He smiled… satisfied by my answer, “so my sisters show their love differently? How do you?”

He was now goading me… Maybe he feels it’s time to speed up as much as I do. I pulled him in even closer and gave him my sexiest kiss, pulling his head down to meet mine. Keeping my hand running through his hair to keep him locked to me and searching around his mouth with my tongue… My free hand gripped his one tight buttock and pulled him into me.

When we finished our kiss and I relaxed my hold on his buttock, I could feel the bulge in his leg indicate that I’d hit the spot. Gary gasped for air, smiling back.

“Phew… I like that,” He admitted.

We kissed and cuddled, but rather than attract another audience, we broke and continued with our family duties. As the light faded, guests left, including me, in their goodbyes. Eventually it was only the Barnes clan, with mum, dad, Kevin, Mark and me left.

We all sat around a fire pit in the patio. Barney had used the coals from the barbecue to start it with some wood placed on top. Giving us a nice flickering glow in the last light from the setting sun, with the various lights helping to guide us to & from the bar.

It wasn’t chilly, snuggled up onto Gary’s lap on a garden lounger, sipping the last drop out of a glass of cider. It was nice to see both sets of parents being more romantic. Mum was sitting sat on dad’s lap in a rare romantic moment.

It was nice watching the group, reading the conversation, and enjoying being close to Gary once more. His hands were visible, but the one wandered… I kept a watch on it… Dropping below my thigh; it started tickling…

After a few strokes, I realised he was spelling letters out on my thigh. I looked directly at him with a ‘What?’ look of my eyebrows, without needing to sign anything. He smiled and his finger traced, ‘Hi,’.

I nodded, thinking it through. He now knows his sisters can read his signing and is playing his cards closer to his chest.

I traced ‘Hi,’ with my finger on the back of his hand.

He smiled and my thigh felt, ‘this would be nicer on our own.’

Being close to him, I knew he could hear me, so I hummed an affirmative, ‘Mmm.’

‘Romantic’ He spelled out.

‘Mmm’

Gary smiled, pulling me in, and we kissed. I think he is getting the idea, and is as frustrated sexually as I am, as I feel a lump growing beneath me. I glance at him and raise my eyebrows, to tease him into blushing… His eyes focussed, and the lump reduced…

I wriggled by size ten bum until I felt his lump grow and his eyebrows raise to question me…

“You do have a naughty side…” Gary silently mouthed at me as he squeezed my thigh.

I grinned and wriggled a little more. It was unfair of me, but after all those times of leaning across the centre console of that damn Disco, it wouldn’t hurt to tease him. I felt his finger on my thigh attracting my attention. Once my eyes looked at him, he knew I was ready to receive.

‘Be good or I’ll tell Helen I love you.’ He spelled out.

‘Ok…’

Gary then glanced over at Cat. I glanced over and whilst she and Mark were similarly entwined, she smiled and signed, “You two are up to something, we’re watching.”

I glanced at Helen, who also was watching us. She made a ‘Vee’ with her first and second fingers, raised them to her eyes, and then pointed them at us, insinuating the same, smiling gleefully.

All this happened surreptitiously, with no one else noticing, as various conversations continued to crisscross the fire pit. I don’t think even Mark or Kevin realised. I have to admit; I felt like a surrogate sister to those two.

Dad attracted my attention, pointing to mum, who was head back, jaw open, snoring her head off. He then pointed at Sally, slumped over Barney, also fast asleep. Dad pointed at an empty bottle of flavoured gin as the cause…

He then pointed to home, mouthing, “I’ll take your mum home, if you want to come?”

I really didn’t want to, but now it was late and we all needed to be up early to catch up. I looked around to check everything was cleared away. I looked at Gary and he had seen the interaction with dad and mouthed, “You go love… We’ll talk tomorrow.”

After a cuddle and last goodnight kiss, then a round of goodbyes, dad and I helped mum to the car and made our way back home. It looked like both Kevin and Mark were also leaving, so I didn’t feel such a heel at leaving Gary alone, whilst Cat and Helen cuddled up with their partners in their beds.

Once again, led in bed, trying to drift off to sleep. My mind ran through all the excitement of the day. The eventual sticking point keeping me awake was Gary’s conversation with his grandmother. My ego was obviously running high, knowing that the man of my dreams did in fact love me… But was he?…

I ran through the flings and heroes of my adult life. Whilst the flings at university were with intellectual equals, they were actually dull company and quite arrogant. None set my buttons alight nor made me regret kicking them into touch.

Gary, however, had made that huge first step, learning to sign, just to cross that initial bridge. He’d also always been honest about his past and treated me the way I would wish to be. He was a gentleman, handsome, hunky, muscular and adorable… He made me laugh, always made me feel special and understood what makes me happy.

Above all, he had never pressed home the drive of any man… to mate. Gary seemed more than happy to take things slowly at my speed, even if I was now as frustrated, wanting to test-drive this hunk, but marriage is such a big deal. Was I ready for such a commitment?

I did not welcome my alarm the next morning. The day looked darker than recent mornings. Looking out my window, grey clouds hung across the sky, with no rain yet. Looking at my phone screen with the app, I could see all the transponders moving across the screen in their silent dance as in previous mornings.

By coffee break, the weather had closed in and we had already had a few showers, although it looked as if more was to come. I met with Gary and he joined mum and I in the conservatory, rather than sit on a wet bench, as we wanted the cushions to remain dry, sat in their cubbies.

As the weather deteriorated, it halted harvest, enabling Gary to do some vehicle and equipment maintenance. He also prepared Fergie for the coming weekends steam fair. I helped Sally choose piglets for show, whilst also giving George some grooming and got a mobile blacksmith to check his shoes.

Most evenings we were all busy, but we managed an evening with Gary and his sisters, as well as Mark and Kevin. Once again, it was a lovely evening amongst people that I now considered close friends.

Kevin, Mark and Gary were now going to camp at the steam fair in tents, so they could look after the sheep, piglets and Fergie over the long weekend. They had arranged to transport everything to the showground on Thursday, with the low loader and trailer in the one barn.

Cat, Helen, and I worked on arrangements to help with Fergie and her tractor rides. I’d checked previous risk assessments and resubmitted an amendment after walking through it with Gary.

During my visits to the storage barn, I noticed a large space where Bessy had been. Whenever I asked Gary, he just shrugged and said they’d moved her, so they can work on her over winter. We packed Fergie’s carriages with all the boys’ camping equipment, as well as hay and food for the piglets, and Kevin’s sheep.

In between showers, Gary gave me driving lessons on Fergie. Whilst I have a car licence, the old tractor was difficult, without power steering and an odd steering column gear stick.

Gary had added extra large mirrors and a simple traffic light system of red and green lights on stalks. One stalk on the tractor and one on the rear of the last carriage. He had also added a large old-fashioned klaxon horn on the back, as he knew I could not shout a warning.

We could communicate using the traffic lights system and if I needed him to stop, I could push hard down on the klaxon. This will enable me, Cat and Helen to swap between being Fergie’s conductor, or driver, if needed. Whilst also being able to take turns looking after the two piglets in the show tent.

This was all so new to me, but very exciting. It certainly notched Gary and my relationship, definitely bringing us closer, as we both had to trust each other to ensure no passengers were at risk.

On the worse day of rain, during one heavy downpour of rain, Cat and I walked the one test area they had prepared earlier in the year. Looking at the water flow, walking the new ditch boundary, to see if it reached the earlier estimate.

It was hilarious, wet and difficult. Cat signing to me, as we walked either side of the ditch and the ever-widening bog as we reached the new lock, which was now holding back a deep pond.

We trudged back to the farmhouse and after a little upload, export and save, we had a map we could overlay onto our original walkabout map. Cat was pleased, as it was actually an improvement on the original estimate and she proposed to revise our previous estimate and application.

Thursday came too soon. I walked down to the farm soon after breakfast and found Gary, Mark and Kevin at the barn preparing to load the low loader up. It was interesting to see the lack of any dynamic as the three argued their way to loading Fergie, reversing up and hitching the trailer up.

Thankfully, it was drying up and forecast was good for the next few days. Slowly, we had the rest of the equipment loaded, and we pulled out of the farm. Wellend wasn’t too far, but we were driving a rickety load that seemed to be held together with bailing twine.

Gary didn’t help by looking nervous when we reached Ross-on-Wye and the local bobby waved us past. We crossed over the River Wye on the same bypass we cursed for spoiling our view on our first date. I wanted to ask Gary if he recognised his bush, but he was focussed on the road. Mark and Kevin following in a Land Rover with a trailer full of sheep and piglets.

Once we turned off the motorway and down smaller back roads, we didn’t feel as conspicuous, weaving our way around the Malvern Hills to Wellend. We followed directions to reach the exhibitors’ entrance. It didn’t bode well to have straw already laid down on the field’s entrance, with large tractors ready to pull any stuck lorries.

The low loader managed its way across the fields until we reached an allotted parking and camping area, set aside for us. We soon had Fergie and the carriages off, although it took longer for Mark and Kevin to erect their tents. Gary had his tent up in a flash.

Gary and I went in search of the organisers to confirm our arrival and reconnoitre the tractor ride route. Mark and Kevin went to drop the animals off in the show tents. It was quite clear that after the recent rain, the fields could soon become a quagmire should any more rain fall.

At the organiser’s tent, we checked in and they confirmed the agreed ride route, passing the main show ring, fairground rides and hospitality areas. They had laid some stone chipping roads around the site to help our route. We walked miles around the enormous site that encompassed eight or ten fields.

Tractions engines and tractors of all shapes and sizes were being offloaded from trailers and moved to show areas. Some musical steam organs were set up. They looked wonderful and colourful, and I wished I could hear them. Gary claimed they sounded like a cacophony of cats breaking glass, but I doubt it.

Upon our return to our base, the amount of traffic arriving had dropped off enough to warrant Gary suggesting to go for a trial ride around. Fergie fired up fine, and we hitched on the carriages. We tested the traffic lights and the klaxon. Once happy, we set off.

About half way around, an official stopped us, so we showed the systems we had in place to ensure a safe ride. As usual, my being deaf came into play, so we explained the traffic light system and the klaxon.

It did not convince him that having a deaf person acting as a conductor was safe enough, despite Gary explaining that in previous years, they hadn’t used one at all. But we had come across the one ‘more than my job’s worth,’ volunteer.

Gary insisted he call in the main site co-ordinator who Barney had dealt with previously. Initially he refused, but after some fast signing and Gary interpreting, he realised we would not be ignored.

Once the site co-ordinator came, he reviewed the risk assessment and confirmed that in previous years they considered the two short carriages being within the sight of the driver was sufficient for safety. Therefore, to have another person acting as a conductor, whether myself, cat or Helen, would be safer.

We then swapped and chugged on… It was fun for me to drive Fergie around the whole site, albeit at a walking pace, and to see people setting up and getting ready for the public tomorrow. At the animal show marquee, we halted and found Mark & Kevin.

The piglets were fine in a pen, alongside dozens of other breeds, lying in the bed of straw left. We found the two over with the sheep. Kevin’s sheep were clean, with their fleeces fluffed up and almost looked like cartoon animals.

We returned to the Barnes base camp with the Land Rover trailing behind. We all agreed that without lunch we were starving, so we walked to the hospitality tents to find some food. It was fun in the beer tent, buying some cider and pies to eat.

It seemed half the tent knew Gary, and all eye balled me on his arm. A few jealous looks, whilst Gary also received some friendly banter, but some with sexist undertones that he promptly knocked on the head.

At a table chatting, Mark and Kevin were now used to communicating and slipping in a few signs of during conversation, but nowhere near their girlfriend’s level of expertise. We got a few double takes when people walked by, seeing us signing, but on the whole it was more out of novelty.

One crowd of lads wanted Gary to join them. Neither Kevin nor Mark looked comfortable with any offers that included them. Gary didn’t look disappointed when he declined.

“It’s okay Gary, if you want to have a beer with friends. Dad is picking me up from the village soon. Point me in the right direction and I’ll be okay.”

“No. It’s okay… They’re the wrong kind of friends… They’re still labouring or flipping burgers, although I think they’ve notched up their nocturnal habits to something stronger.”

“Are these the ‘wrong friends’ that used to get you into trouble?”

Gary nodded. “It’s okay I can handle them, look they have already gotten bored and moved on.”

I glanced over and they were pushing another group around, causing a bit of a scene. Although they had chosen the wrong ones to bully, as they had larger friends at the bar that returned to encourage them to leave.

Once finished, Gary walked me to the village, and we waited on the green for when dad arrived in his Volvo to take me home. We kissed, and I wished him well for his night under canvas. As dad drove me back home, my legs ached. Whilst I’m not unfit, we had been on our feet and walked miles during the day.

The next morning, Helen and Cat picked me up, and we returned to the exhibitor’s entrance, with tickets to gain entry and reach Gary’s base camp. We found them sat on the tractor carriages eating bacon baps with cups of coffee.

Helen outlined the rota of drivers, conductors and animal husbandry for the day. The sun was out, promising a dryer day that we’d recently had. Being Friday, they weren’t expecting too many visitors, with the Sunday expecting to be the busiest day.

We had time before the gates opened, so Gary and I walked through some of the nearby traction steam engines. The smell was Victorian, with coal burning and lubricating oil smouldering on the hot surfaces. It was more romantic than I’d have thought.

The day flashed by in a round of driving, taking fares, conducting and helping with the piglets. Helen had printed out a few cards for me, in case I was caught on my own. One explained I was deaf and could only communicate with sign language. Another had answer choices, telling them to ask the driver, or ask an official in a high-visibility jacket or confirming the prices.

With the rides being one pound per adult and nothing for young children, conducting wasn’t a hard job. The fare went to a local charity that the steam fair supported and they’d put some advertising banners on the carriages. The only hard part was locking all the carriages’ short doors shut before giving the okay to the driver.

It was a relief when Cat and Helen took over to give Gary and I a break. We headed for the hospitality tents and had a late lunch. As we wandered around, almost every third person knew Gary. He explained any relationships as he made any introductions…

‘I used to play football/Rugby/Cricket with or against him.’

‘We were at school together.’

‘We went to Agricultural college together.’

The list seemed endless, but there was the odd one who Gary avoided, or didn’t introduce and you could see by his face and mannerism, that these were the ones he didn’t want to rebuild friendships with.

The afternoon was busier, and we were turning people away. Although we had several pick up and drop-off points, around the showground. Looking after the piglets was easy and fun, although a few times Gary had to remind me that the idea was to make bacon and not use them as pets, when I got too attached.

Suddenly one-minute we were busy and the next, the public had left the showground. The six of us made our way to a beer tent and then to the food area to have barbecue ribs in a tray with a bag of chips. We found an empty table to scoff and relieve our aching legs.

Mark and Kevin caught us up to date with their day. Recounting when some young kids escaped the goat enclosure and started climbing displays and eating the hemp guy ropes of the marquee.

Whilst talking, I was still hungry and mentioned it would be nice to have something to finish the meal off… Gary made his excuses and went in one direction, whilst Helen went in the opposite direction.

With Gary gone, Cat smiled and signed, “You and Gary have worked well together today… In fact, you always work well as a team… You keep him in check and he listens to you more than us. You’re good for him Isla… you’ll be a perfect… ”

She stopped and bit her lip. Mark shot her a look, telling me that he thought she was meddling and had gone too far.

I finished the sentence for her, signing, “Wife?”

Cat curled her lip in embarrassment. “I’m sorry… I’m jumping the gun a bit, aren’t I? I’m sorry…”

She looked genuine and annoyed with herself, but before we could talk further, Gary returned with more beer and cider. We all sat looking at each other, in silent agreement not to say anything further.

Helen arrived back with large wedges of cheesecake. Whilst not local fare, the cheesecake was welcome. We all tucked in and continued the original conversation. Then when I had the call of nature, Cat came with me.

“I’m sorry Isla, I am poking my nose in… don’t blame Gary… It’s just Helen and I want what is best for him…”

“And you?”

She blushed, realising that I can read her face as much as her lips, so couldn’t lie.

“Yes… Oh Isla, you are the best thing that has ever happened to him and I’m sure you could do better… But we need you.”

“You need me?”

“Well… You know, you’ve done so much for the farm… Helen and I don’t want the old Gary back… We don’t want our brother behind bars.”

Her face was full of honesty and fear…

Back at the table, the two sisters made a point of telling the boys how we were returning home to nice warm beds, whilst they would be in cold sleeping bags. No amount of teasing would tempt either to stay with their boyfriends.

I wouldn’t have minded staying with Gary, but his tent was a tiny, one man trekking tent, with very little room for his large frame, let alone with the addition of me. It would have taken a long stretch of imagination to find it romantic. As the light went, we thought it best to make our way back to the car, leaving the men drinking.

That night in bed, I needed little help sleeping, but I did toss and turn a little over Cat and Helen… Marrying someone because it suited his sisters wasn’t the best foundation for a marriage…

On the drive home. I hadn’t been sure whether to raise the subject again. Although we talked, it seemed as if we were avoiding the elephant in the car… They weren’t to know we’ve not yet done the deed, and he’d have grounds for divorce if we were married.

Once off to sleep, dreams of living out of a tiny tent haunted me or living in a rundown rickety shepherd hut, wearing sheep’s fleece clothes and keeping pigs as pets.

I allowed myself a lie in the next morning. I’d be lying if I said I was looking forward to the drive with Helen and Cat later. Mum and dad joined me for breakfast, although they were coming later as paying members of the public. My smart phone buzzed, and I saw a text from Helen. For the first time, I didn’t want to open it, but I knew I had to.

< Isla love. Cat told me what she’d said yesterday. Look, she can be a pushy cow, and we love Gary, but that doesn’t absolve her from poking her nose in. If you’d prefer to make your own way to Wellend this morning, we understand. BUT I’d much rather we forget about it and move on? >

If I went on my own, it would create an invisible rift between us all… just a thin end of a wedge, a wedge I definitely don’t want to be there. Here was the hand of friendship and I felt I ought to take it, not quite kissing and making up, but it wasn’t worth throwing toys out of the pram for Cat’s excitement after a cider.

< That’s ok Helen… I love him too… but maybe not in the same way!! If I get to thinking of marriage, you will be the first to know, but for now, can I just be his girlfriend? >

< Oh, yes… We love you too… Gary is so lucky to have you… I’m doing it now aren’t I? Sorry hun..xx. So, are we still picking you up? >

< I’m glad you’re my friends. I think you’d be scary if not… Yes, please… see you soon..xx >

We had agreed yesterday to wear vintage dress today, just to add to the authenticity of the vintage machines at the show. I had a few 50s style dresses that could pass for older and mum tied my hair up in the same vintage hairstyle. Making me look more like a world war two land girl, in a dress rather than overalls, ready to ‘dig for England’.

The doorbell rang my smart watch, and I trotted to the door. I opened it to find Helen in blue overalls and her hair tied up the same. Cat was a little sheepish remaining in the car, but our squeals of delight brought her out. I rang the doorbell to bring mum out and got her to take our photo.

This broke the ice and made the car journey to Wellend far more comfortable, possibly for all three of us. This time we found the men drinking tea after having had full English breakfasts whilst nursing mild hangovers.

It was nice to be greeted by a big bear hug from Gary and a kiss. We had some time, so we walked to grab a decent coffee. Gary told me about their evening of singing folk songs with a group that ran a steamroller and a steam timber mill. We pass their display on Fergie’s route.

Yesterday’s weather forecast said it would remain dry today, and the sky promised the sun would make an appearance later. I’d forgotten to check the weather that morning, but it certainly felt promising.

Suddenly, at ten, the public flowed in, with almost double the attendance of Friday. Yesterday had made a good rehearsal, as at our first stop Fergie was full, which set the theme for the day. It was a disappointment for some, but we were only raising money for a local charity.

Where today was busier, where people weren’t as tolerant, with some pushing to get on, even before people had exited the carriages. With my lack of a strong voice, I couldn’t assert myself. To manage this, Gary and I swapped with the traffic light system, working well.

People calmed down when instructed by a bear of a man, asking them to wait. I had to use the front klaxon a lot, as I drove, with people would walk across our path, even with Fergie barely making walking speed.

It was a relief when Cat and Helen took over, giving us a break. We grabbed some food and bumped into both sets of parents. Sally had taken the piglets into the show pen and they won a second place. Kevin’s sheep were going into the ring later.

All too soon, we had to meet Cat and Helen at the main display arena to give them a rest. All the other running Massey Ferguson tractors were waiting there, ready to enter to drive around for the crowd. Sally and Barney were going to meet us so they could ride in the carriages.

Whilst we were waiting for the previous vehicles on display to leave, a young girl danced excitedly around the tractors, signing to her parents. As she reached Fergie, I waved and signed “Hello,” which excited her.

“I’m looking for a tractor named F, e, r, g, i, e.” She signed back to me.

Her parents must be part of my Patreon, with my book not yet published. I checked no one was in the driving seat and the handbrake was on.

Ensuring there was no chance of Fergie moving, I lifted the girl up for her to stand on the one wonky front wheel, held her balanced there and pointed at the black letters Gary had written on the bonnet.

I signed each letter for her, “F, e, r, g, i, e.”

She grinned, turning to her parents, “Here is Fergie… Mum, this is Fergie.”

I lifted her back down and smiled at her parents.

“Mummy, this lady signs like us.”

We all signed greetings, as the girl turned to me and signed, “I read books by a nice lady. She also writes on the internet and told me about a little tractor named Fergie.”

Her mum signed, “She loves to read but loves the author Isla Peters and has all her books.”

I stooped down to the little girl’s level and signed, “That is strange… My name is Isla Peters… And I write books for little girls like you.”

“Mummy, the lady writes books like Miss Isla Peters.”

We all laughed, and I introduced myself to her parent’s correctly, shaking hands. Her mother explained how her daughter Joanne loved reading and especially my books. They had been following my Patreon for a while and it was only by chance that they had come to Wellend.

Gary came over, so I introduced them and he invited the little girl to sit in Fergie’s seat. She could barely reach the steering wheel, so the pedals and handbrake were safe. We chatted with both her and her parents as the previous vehicles started to leave the field.

“How would you like a ride behind Fergie, in the carriages?” Gary asked Joanne.

She squealed with delight and we got her sat in the front row, but she insisted Gary and I sit with her and her parents behind. Helen jumped on Fergie, and Cat sat behind in the second carriage. Just as the ringmaster invited us in, Sally and Barney arrived, jumping in to sit with Cat.

Little Joanne was so excited she was signing fast and loose, which confused Gary. Her parents apologised, explaining that a lot of her excitement was meeting strangers who could sign back. Reminding me of my isolation in my early years, giving me an empathy with her.

Helen, driving Fergie, led the line of tractors into the ring, allowed two laps, then we lined up. The ringmaster commenting on each tractor, mentioning the year of manufacture and its importance in the development of tractors.

Neither Joanne nor I could hear any of this, so we continued signing. She asked hundreds of questions about Fergie and my existing published books. She knew the characters inside out, so had her own views on each character. Neither did she leave Gary alone, tapping him when she wanted to ask him anything.

Waiting for our turn for the ringmaster to interview us, Cat and Helen produced buckets, so we all walked around the ring for donations to the charity supported by the steam rally. Once back at the carriage, I found Joanne focussed on drawing a picture on a sketchpad, just as I did when I was little.

She had drawn three matchstick people, stood in front of Fergie and carriages, and had written the names Gary, Joanne, and Isla beneath the three people. I made an appropriate fuss of her picture. Telling her mother that was how I started, then progressed to writing.

She asked me to draw something, so I drew her sat driving Fergie and signed it, ‘To my favourite reader Joanne, Isla.‘ I drew the dot over the ‘i’ as a little island, like my book’s logo. She beamed with excitement, showing everyone for her mum to store it safely in a bag.

Gary informed us we were to move off again, so we shut ourselves back in the carriages and Helen drove us around the show ring twice more and then headed to the nearest tractor stop to pick up the next batch of passengers.

Here we had to say goodbye to Joanne and her parents, although Helen and Cat offered to take her to see our piglets. She wanted to ride some more. Gary promised her she could ride again later, but it was only fair that other boys and girls rode Fergie for a while.

As Helen, Cat, Joanne and her parents walked away, I noticed darker clouds gathering around the show grounds. Earlier it had looked as if it was clearing up, but typical of any British summer, nothing was predictable.

Gary and I returned to our tried and tested teamwork with me driving. In the large rear mirrors, I could watch Gary lifting kids in and out of the carriages at various stops as we pottered around.

My mind drifted to his interaction with Joanne. I glanced back into the mirror as Gary made sure a pair of boys were safely on and their door closed. I casually thought about what a good father he would make to any of our future kids.

I blushed at my admittance. ‘Our Kids,’ did I really just think that? After two degrees and years at university, does it still all came down basic cave woman instinct? My mind flashed across the last few months and I realised it didn’t. My love for this man had grown to be the sum of all his parts, and this was just another facet that attracted me to him.

I continued to blush, thinking over the implications and how joyful it would be for kids to have such a fun dad. I glanced back to see Gary frantically pressing the green button and waving for me to get going…

Whilst the carriages had little roofs, Fergie did not, and I soon felt more than one raindrop landing on me… Soon it was raining and looking at the sky, it would not stop soon. At the next stop, there was no one waiting, and no one wanted to get off.

As we ventured on, the rain worsened and we noticed people were cowering inside show tents or making their way to the car parks. Already soaked through, I pulled my lightweight raincoat out of the toolbox.

At the stop nearest the car park, all our passengers disembarked and headed for their cars. As Gary pulled his raincoat on, we could already see streams of cars heading for the car park exits. The car parks were really fields, which were already waterlogged, you could see some cars struggling in the heavy conditions.

An organiser ran over in his high visibility coat and had a quick chat with Gary. I couldn’t see what was being said through the heavy rain, as both had their heads down to keep their faces out of the rain.

“Cars are getting stuck in the mud, we’ll leave the carriages over there and go the long way to the exits. There are too many stuck for us to reach them from here.”

We pulled the carriages to a corner of the field and disconnected the carriages. Gary jumped up and stood on the footpad, to sit on the large mudguard of the rear wheels to direct me where we needed to go.

I drove us out to the exhibitor’s entrance and exited onto the lanes. Gary directed me round the labyrinth of lanes until we reached the car park entrance and exit. Cars were littered everywhere, with the few stuck ones blocking even the 4x4s from exiting.

Gary pointed at the nearest culprit, and I headed over to reverse up close. Gary produced a towrope from the bottom of the toolbox. He soon had the car hitched up, gave the driver some instructions, and waved me off.

Fergie didn’t feel a thing as I pulled him out onto the road, with Gary walking behind. We soon unhitched and returned for the next car. Slowly, car by car, we removed the blockage, allowing more cars to filter out.

We moved deeper and deeper into the car park, releasing stuck cars as the rain continued to worsen the conditions. Gary and I worked like clockwork together, Gary signing instructions and shouting at car drivers about how to drive their cars and not get stuck.

One stuck car we passed had Joanne’s face pressed up against the window, waving. I reversed up for Gary to hitch the towrope on and we pulled it all the way out of the car park. Joanne was ecstatic as we set them free. We had a quick chat and signed goodbyes through the window before returning to work.

The sky was darkening further when we, with other smaller tractors, had finished helping the public leave, but now exhibitors were fighting the rain, with tents and marquees now struggling with the weight of the rainstorm.

We collected the carriages and worked our way back to the Barnes clan base camp, to find Gary, Mark’s and Kevin’s tents sat in a shallow pond. After initially laughing at the situation, we contacted Helen and Cat to find that they had retired to the beer tent.

The beer tent was full of sheltering exhibitors, all soaked through. Whilst I was wet and chilly, I wasn’t cold and the temperature was still in the high teens. When we found Gary’s two sisters and their boyfriends, they had been sheltering for quite some time and had warmed themselves with copious amounts of cider.

The atmosphere was typical British, full of humour at various people’s rain soaked states and experiences. Everyone was discussing options of leaving or hoping that Sunday would bring sunshine and more paying visitors.

Just as we were discussing the same, everyone cocked an ear to an announcement by an official stood on a table. I couldn’t hear it nor read his lips as he moved his head around to be heard by everyone in the large marquee.

As the announcement finished and the crowd discussed their options, Gary explained.

“The rain isn’t due to stop until Monday and they’ve decided to not open tomorrow and advise people to pack up and leave, asking the larger tractors to remain available to rescue any stuck lorries and trucks.”

“Cat and Helen are in no fit state to drive, so I can drive the Disco home. You can drive the Lorry, but what about Kevin and Mark?”

Cat and Helen laughed, reading my signing, “They can sleep it off, in Mark’s car.”

Neither Mark nor Kevin liked that idea once Helen had told them their option. To me, it was obvious.

“We can’t load Fergie and the carriages in the rain, in this failing light. Nor can we leave the pigs and sheep here. I can take the drunken sisters home. Gary you being the pigs and sheep home in the trailer using the Land Rover with Mark, and Kevin.”

Gary smiled and relayed the plan to the others, who all nodded in agreement. The foursome finished their drinks, Mark and Kevin went to collect the livestock. We went back to the base and Gary set about dismantling the tent.

Gary decided that as the tents and contents were already wet, there was no use trying to be gentle. He just pulled up the pegs, let them lie flat and rolled them up, poles included. The long wraps of tents, including contents he placed in the back of the Land Rover.

Gary suddenly motioned for me to look across the field. Lit by the show ground lights were Mark and Kevin, covered in mud carrying two filthy, dirty pigs. Both were wriggling, trying to escape.

With the two lumps of wriggling muddy pigs deposited in the trailer, Mark and Kevin explained how the piglets had escaped and evaded capture. During the chase, both had fallen many times in the slippery conditions.

Gary told them to get in the Land Rover and they’d go pick up the sheep. We had a chance for a wet, rain soaked hug and kiss as I climbed into the Discover to take Cat and Helen home. The Disco was already in four-wheel drive, so it was a simple trip to escape the muddy fields and make our way back.

Being deaf was a bonus whilst having to drive with two drunken sisters on the back seat. In the rear-view mirror, I could see them singing, arguing and laughing, trying to sign whatever the current joke was to me.

I dropped them off at the farmhouse and returned home to get in a hot shower and into some dry clothes. Mum and dad were home after leaving at the start of the downpour. They had seen us in the show ring but unable to attract our attention.

Thankfully, mum had a nice dinner ready for me to reheat and eat in front of the TV as Gary text to confirm he was now in a similar position. The tents were now hanging in a barn to dry and pigs were safely in their pen.

He’d dropped Mark, Kevin and the sheep off, but in the morning, I’ll need to pick him up in the Disco, as Helen will return the Land Rover to Kevin. Our live chat continued as much as we’d chatted a thousand times before, but there was something more to it.

I wondered if Gary had the same thoughts as myself over our future relationship and children after meeting Joanne. His texts read more loving, with sporadic kisses, `x’s and even some emoji.

After breakfast the next morning, I drove the Disco down to the farmhouse to collect Gary. It felt strange to be driving to meet him, when it would have been so much easier if we’d slept together and far more desirable from my point of view.

Gary was waiting in the door’s porch out of the rain as I arrived. He ran out and jumped in the passenger seat, more than happy for me to drive. He signed that Helen had already left to pick up Kevin and Mark to give a hand.

As we arrived at the showground, everything had changed. Muddy fields were now bare of more than half the exhibitors and marquees. Queues of lorries and trucks were making their way to the exits.

Helen, Mark and Kevin were waiting, all of us now dressed for the weather and keen to get out before getting soaked again. It became apparent that once more chaos was going to reign, with the four working in four different directions.

I pressed the large klaxon on Fergie to attract their attention. I ran through how I thought things should work and in what order to get us out more efficiently. Gary translated whilst Helen nodded. After a little horse-trading on jobs, we all got on with our roles.

This time, we all worked as a team to get everything safely loaded and we started on our way. Gary led in the Lorry towing the trailer, with Helen following in the Land Rover and I in the Disco.

Eventually we were back at the farm and unloading Fergie. We left the carriages on the trailer and reversed it into the barn. We retired to the Kitchen for some tea and Sally cooked up some bacon sandwiches.

Just as we had dried out and eaten, Cat burst into the kitchen to announce she had been walking the farm and thought we could revise our wetland estimates. The heavy rain had proven the trial ditches worked better than we had experienced earlier that week.

She also thought we could revise our plans, but we had to get out and map the current conditions as she also had measured rainfall over the farm, giving us accurate data. I got the app downloaded to Cat and Helen’s phones and we set off into the rain.

We all had set watercourses to map out. Gary and I chose the one furthest from the farmhouse. We started at the bottom, near the river, and walked either side of the ditch that was now a deep torrent, up to its source.

We were soon slogging through deep mud and separated by hedges. I took photos, realising that we can link the photos to maps, which we could use later for reference. Noting where ditches ran under lanes, or paths in culverts.

We had only managed three watercourses, by the time we were losing light and I was exhausted. We were the last to return to the farmhouse. Sally had made dinner, which we all enjoyed with a few glasses of wine.

We sat around the dining table comparing notes and I showed everyone how to link photos to maps. After exporting the maps and converting, we loaded them on the laptop. I overlaid them onto the ordnance survey map of the farm, and we all agreed that we needed to revise our estimates.

Now we had real-time data to back up our estimates and could add this all to the application. The four of us poured over the information and mapped out how we should amend our original application that was still waiting for submittal.

Once we had sufficient planning in place, we all retired to the lounge, glasses in hand, to chat. Once more, I felt that warm fuzzy, comfortable feeling being around Gary and his sisters. We were all signing and lip reading, whilst joking and laughing about our weekends adventures at the steam rally.

Gary and I were sharing a large lounge chair with me once more on his lap. Helen and Cat could now hold their own signing and reading what either Gary or I signed. I’ve only ever felt this included when within deaf BSL groups.

It was only then that the enormity of what I had achieved that weekend hit me. I had stepped way outside my previous comfort zone, with it being such an enormous step for a shy hermit, but had slipped past without me noticing. To be out amongst such sizeable crowds, without mum, and dad as my safety net and with me taking charge.

After a few glasses of wine, I was getting too comfortable. If we were alone, I would have suggested me staying the night, to spend it with Gary. That time to speed up was just proving too elusive. I don’t think I could wait until autumn and a spa weekend as a party of six with Helen and Cat.

Gary must have developed a sixth sense, as he lifted me up off his lap and got up, returning with our coats, saying he’ll run me home. My legs felt like lead as we pulled our coats on. Cat and Helen each came in for a big hug, and I followed Gary out into the rain.

A few minutes later, once again, we found ourselves parked outside my parent’s house, with that damn centre console between us. After a few furtive kisses and hugs, I repeated my usual farewell, stood in the doorway, watching Gary disappear into the darkness.

That night I dreamed of Gary waving me off as I took our children to school in the carriages pulled by Fergie. There were dozens of them, boys and girls, far more than the carriages could carry. Once at school, they just kept coming out and walking into school, until the school was full with our offspring.

The next few days were busy. I caught up on work, whilst also amending the DEFRA application. Cat, Helen and Gary caught up with the last of any maintenance, as the rain finally stopped.

The texts we swapped and the few evenings we saw each other just ramped up the excitement for the following weekend’s summer ball. One evening, we practiced our dancing, which only amplified our excitement.

Gary came up and under mum’s supervision; we waltzed our way around the lounge, with Gary tapping the beat with his finger on my back. Gary’s level of dance ability impressed mum. He even had the cheek to tweak my technique.

He even text Helen, who must have broken the world record for driving up a farm track to arrive so fast. She burst into the house, full of excitement. First she insisted she watch, then she and Gary demonstrated and she exaggerated the points she wanted me to improve on.

Once moving, Helen’s size disappeared, she span as if she were floating, rising and falling with the dance steps. Mum enjoyed Helen’s energy. We practiced until both Helen and mum were satisfied. Helen confirmed they would pick me up from home in the limousine they had previously booked for the ball.

On the Thursday afternoon, Mum and I popped into Hereford to collect the ball gown. Then went on to both get our hair done and my nails. We were lucky to have appointments, as both salons were busy with women also preparing themselves for the ball.

Back home, we gave my ball gown pride of place in my office, as it dwarfed the wardrobes in my bedroom. Having texts and WhatsApp messages from Cat and Helen just added to the buildup of excitement. With them having more time to prepare, they had Saturday morning appointments for their hair and nails.

Friday was unbearable, being overexcited. Once I had cleared my desk of work, I just found myself looking at the ball gown, desperate to try it on. Trying to sit by my pond writing wasn’t enough, so like many days now, I walked down to the farm and rode George.

With the use of the app, we could walk out of the paddock, avoiding vehicle traffic and around the harvested areas of the farm, so we could also trot around fields of stubble. Now being ridden more often, George’s temperament had softened over the last few weeks, although neither Cat nor Helen could encourage him to allow them to ride him.

It had taken some getting used to riding bareback, but still George would not allow us anywhere near any time we tried to place a saddle on him. He responded with a canny knack of knowing what I wanted him to do or where I wanted him to go.

Once back in the paddock, I enjoyed rubbing him down and grooming him. Once finished, I wandered back to the farmhouse to call in for a chat with Sally. I felt more at home on the farm and to welcome to wander in and out with no hesitation.

Later that evening, Gary and I went out for a quiet drink at ‘The Trumpet.’ It was a nice pre-ball affair with just the two of us. He looked a little edgy, making me realise he was excited too.

“Are you as excited about the ball, as I am?”

“Maybe not quite as much, as I’ve been to a few… But yeah, I’m excited. We have dry weather forecast and I have the prettiest girl ever to take.”

“Aw… Come on, you must have taken dozens of girls to these balls?”

Gary blushed. Once again, it was unfair of me to press him on his past.

“No… I always went alone. There was never any need to invite anyone, as I would have the pick of the bunch once I arrived.” He admitted, avoiding looking me in the eye.

“Sorry honey, I meant it to be more of a tease.”

“No… It’s okay… Isla, you are the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met… In fact, the only one I’ve ever wanted to take to the ball with me.”

We spent the rest of the evening like a love struck couple… Well, that was what we were… Although once again I wished I could whisper sweet nothings to him, but the noise, even in the quiet pub, was too much.

Gary sensibly called it an early night, even for us, as we will need all our energy for tomorrow’s ball. Gary had borrowed Cat’s Audi estate, so for once there was no central console to irritate us. In the car park, things got a little amorous, as his warm hands swarmed over my willing body.

Even in the evening’s warmth of late July, we were steaming the windows up. I never wanted a man as much as I wanted Gary now… But with the odd car or pub’s clientele passing, this wasn’t the place.

“Isla, as much as I want you, this is not how I want our first time to be.” Gary acknowledged.

Red faced, we both rearranged our clothes. Gary let the windows down and we left the car park. As he drove me home, we passed several locations, we could have parked up and done the deed. But, I agreed with Gary, I too wanted our first time to be the one to remember…

Saturday was unbearable. All the clocks seemed to run slower than ever. I tried everything I knew to pass the time until I needed to get ready. As instructed by Helen, I didn’t wear my sexiest panties, as she was adamant that I was going to ride the rodeo bull.

Mum helped with my hair and my favourite necklace she had brought me for my eighteenth birthday all those years ago. I wore a plain strapless bra, to ensure no loose bra straps would spoil the dresses look.

After a last cup of tea, I wriggled into the ball gown, with mum fussing over me, pulling hems and edges straight. Dad’s jaw hit the floor when I walked downstairs into the lounge. I felt like a million dollars.

I had some lovely red semi-high-heeled shoes to wear and a nice scarlet clutch bag. The door bell rang earlier than expected, but when mum answered it, Gary walked in, wearing a full tuxedo. He looked more handsome than ever before.

The suit fitted him perfectly, and he had cleanly shaved, wearing smart black polished shoes. He had walked up the drive. His jaw joined dad’s on the floor when he saw me.

I span a few times and asked, “Do I look okay?”

“Abso-bloody-lutely,” he gasped, but after gathering his thoughts, he signed, “You’re beautiful.”

Mum got her camera out and got dad to take photos of me with her, outside in the sunshine. Then one with Gary and I. As dad took the photos, I noticed a flash of emotion and a tear in his eye.

“You okay, dad?”

He nodded, as both his eyes filled with tears. Mum took the camera off him and I gave him a big hug, trying not to smear my makeup. Gary took my photo with mum and dad. Dad spent ages propping the camera on a post, getting us to stand in exactly the right position. He pressed the button and ran to join me to take a photo of the four of us.

It was lovely to see the change in dad. He was looking at Gary with pride and chatting with him as he would my brother. Before we could get over emotional, Kevin came around the corner, having arrived with Cat, Helen and Mark in the limousine.

Before we could make a move to the car, Cat and Helen burst around the corner in their dresses, with Mark shadowing them, trying to implore them to return to the car. Cat in an ivory white dress and Helen bursting out of a buxom lilac dress.

After another round of photos, we finally boarded the enormous car parked outside. Inside were flutes of champagne and we all settled down. The excitement of Helen and Cat was almost unbearable. With Gary have to shout for them to tone it down.

As we talked and signed, coloured lights flickered on and off around us, showing me there must have been some music playing. When we entered the grounds of the agricultural college, you could see the enormity of it.

The college was an old Victorian building. Very grand, with huge tall windows and turreted corners. Built out of red brick and stone, with high stacked chimneys. A long line of limousines of all shapes and sizes queued up, disgorging guests.

Even a few tractors and trailers carried groups of guests in. The grounds that were normally open sports fields, now held a huge illuminated fair ground that was ready for the guests. Gary helped me step out of the limousine. Once out, the excitement all around was palpable.

Cat and Helen went into overdrive, almost needing reins to hold them back. I felt sorry for Mark and Kevin, although I think they were used to it by now. Guests walked up and down, greeting friends, grouping people for photos.

I took a few photos to show mum and dad tomorrow, before I forgot, as the excitement was taking over me as well. A few people came up to Gary, but he never left my side, introducing me to everyone. As we reached the entrance stairway, a professional photographer was taking guests photos.

Gary and I had ours taken, then Helen burst amongst us, insisting on a group photo, then one of just the three of us girls. They gave us tickets for printed photos to be collected later. Gary guided me up the steps, through the entrance hall, into the main dining hall.

As we passed through, staff had trays of flutes of champagne for us, with options of orange juice that remained untouched. Gary checked the table plan and guided us to our table that we were to share with a few of Cat and Helen’s friends. Each large round table catered for twelve guests and tables littered the grand hall.

The tables all had summery floral central displays and silver service cutlery with various glasses. Several pre-ordered bottles of wine sat uncorked on the table. We weren’t far from the long bar that everyone was making a beeline for, including Helen.

Gary asked to be excused, then also went to the bar. Cat introduced me to the friends we would share the table with. Although as soon as they realised I was deaf, her friends started ignoring me. Cat encouraged them to include me, even if I had to read their lips.

It made me realise how lucky I was with Cat and Helen, both embracing their brother’s choice of girlfriend and both learned to sign. Getting bored with trying to understand whatever in-joke or unknown history Cat’s friends were relaying, I glanced over to the bar.

Gary was carrying three sleeved pints, but two tall women blocked his route back. I could only see the back of their heads, one ginger haired and the other dyed pitch black. I could see Gary’s lips and read.

“… Sorry girls, I’m busy… Yes, she’s my guest… Yes…”

Not seeing the two women’s faces, I couldn’t see their side of the conversation, but whatever they were saying, Gary was losing his temper.

“… No… That special school that you say she went to was actually university… So, whilst you two were still shagging your way around various sports clubs, flipping burgers or tending bars, she was gaining two degrees… So sorry girls, you are off the menu, although you were never on it.”

He turned and changed his route to wind his way around to avoid them further. The two turned to look at Cat and me… Both scowling, as if Gary had slapped them. I watched Gary, red-faced, make his way back to talk with Kevin and Mark.

After a while, everyone sat. Gary came over and joined me, pulling a chair back for me. There was a top table and a master of ceremonies stood to welcome everyone, then introduce the top table. Initially, Gary translated but realised that we were both bored.

Only Cat and Helen noticed Gary and I were chatting quietly using sign language. Not wanting to be left out, the four of us were quietly signing. Soon it must have been obvious to Cat’s other guests on the table that Gary, Cat and Helen weren’t translating.

Then everyone stood, clapping. We copied as Gary signed to me…

“Isla, the principal guest speaker… It’s Stuart Longford.”

All heads turned to the stage door that opened and Stuart walked in. I didn’t recognise him as I had only seen a photo of him online, but everyone else did and clapped. We all sat, and he addressed the guests, talking about the up-and-coming challenges in farming.

This time Gary translated as we all paid attention. A lot of what we were doing at the farm came within his lecture, so we were all intrigued. After a long and interesting lecture, he invited a few questions. Before I knew it, I stood up.

Being the first up, all attention was on me, but all I could do was sign.

“Stuart, I’m Isla Peters… Can we chat afterwards?”

The entire hall looked blank, as Gary stood to explain and Stuart smiled and nodded. I sat back down with Gary and allowed others to ask their questions. I stupefied Gary at my sudden bravery, standing up to sign in front of such a large crowd of people.

At the end of question time, everyone stood, clapping, and Stuart wound his way down to our table. Have never met in person, it was brilliant to meet him off a computer screen. I introduced our table, explaining the relationships and our project to update the farm with the application.

Intrigued, he asked dozens of questions, but had answers from all four of us.

“So who is in charge of all this?” He questioned.

At which point they all pointed at me, which was gratifying, but not the whole truth.

“Well, I came in late and have only managed it… Those three had the ideas.”

Staff came around with our starters and Stuart asked the one to move him to our table. We all shuffled around to allow him to sit between Gary and Cat. It was quite an honour to have the principal speaker sat with us. Both answering and asking questions as we ate.

We ignored any sideway glances and questioning looks from other tables, as we pumped Stuart for his guidance. On the whole, he seemed impressed and liked the mapping we had done, when I showed him the mapping from my phone. He agreed that the data Cat had gathered over the previous week’s rainstorm would be invaluable to underline our applications.

Cat and Helen kept him topped up with drink on the premise that it will help encourage more information. To be fair, he went above and beyond, getting as excited about our farm project as we were.

By the time empty sweet dishes were being collected and coffees offered, Stuart started giving us an in-depth summation of what he thought we could do to improve our development.

By the time tables were being cleared and removed to clear the dance hall, Stuart made his excuses to return to the head table and a few disgruntled officials. With all the wine finished, we headed to the nearby bar.

Cat suggested having an energy drink cocktail to help boost energy after the enormous meal and in anticipation of a long night. Never having had anything stronger than an espresso, the energy drink made its impression immediately.

I felt ready to sweep Gary off his feet and head for the fairground with the majority of the men. Cat and Helen were building themselves up for the first dance and the choosing of the ‘Belle of the Ball.’

The head table was removed and stage curtains pulled back to reveal a club style DJ set up. The Young Farmers Association officials all prepared themselves to judge the Belle. Kevin looked terrified, whilst Helen was almost setting off on her own in excitement.

Cat and Mark were preparing, as were many other couples. I looked around the hall and there were dozens of very confident couples, making me nervous. Gary was used to competitions, so was as cool as ice, which helped my nerves.

Suddenly, all the couples moved onto the dance floor, ready to start. Gary moved us into a more open area. He looked me in the eye and smiled, “Stay cool, you’ll be fine.”

Then a few couples started, but had jumped the gun and had to double step to correct to match the beat.

Gary’s hand tapped, one, two, three, then my internal metronome kicked in and on the next count of one, my foot stepped out in harmony with Gary and we were off. We whirled around like clockwork. Gary was perfect, leading me around the dance floor.

Slowly, couples were asked to leave the dance floor, including Cat and Mark, also removed from the competition. Stuart was talking with the judges, pointing at Gary and I.

Each time my head was stationary, I noticed the odd person in the crowd stating, “That scarlet girl is deaf…” We were now dancing with half the hall to ourselves, with only a few couples remaining, but the crowd were watching us.

I recognised the hair of the two women of the remaining couples dancing were the two who had caught Gary at the bar. The ginger haired one kept looking over to us. Suddenly, she broke free from her partner and ran towards the stage. The crowd parted to allow her to climb the stage to accost the judges.

I could read her lips as she pointed at me. “She can’t be deaf. She’s a fake. How can she dance if she can’t hear the music?”

Cat appeared on stage to counter the accusation. I couldn’t see what she was saying as I was now spinning to face the other direction. Then Gary tapped my shoulder to stop. I turned to see some of the crowd ‘booing’ the woman, whilst a few others seemed to agree.

We stood in the open space of the hall, with me feeling exposed. Helen had joined our defence on stage and was giving the woman a threatening look. Then the head official stood and walked down and came to us.

“There seems to be an accusation that you aren’t deaf, as people claim. However, this is a dance contest, not a hearing ability contest. Would you be happy to dance again, against the remaining couples?”

Furious, I signed, “Of course I am deaf. Why would I fake deafness? But yes, I will continue to dance, but I do not need to prove that I am deaf.”

Gary interpreted word for word, quite angry himself.

The official was apologetic and only wanted to continue a dance competition, but I was still furious. “Why would I fake deafness, for sympathy?”

Gary again translated and again the official apologised, but my blood was boiling.

“Can you dance?” I demanded of the official. He nodded once Gary translated.

“Gary, explain how I keep time…”

Gary explained the technique to him. The official and I paired up ready to dance, but before we set off, everyone’s eyes looked at the ginger haired woman who was now with her partner.

“That proves nothing. She can still hear the music or she’s watching us dance, she’s a fake.” She screamed across at the official.

Once again, the official explained it was a dance competition and not a hearing issue. He even threatened her that they would remove her from the competition if she continued.

I don’t know whether it was the energy drink kicking in or my stubborn streak, but I wanted to prove I was as good as them, deaf or not.

“Gary, that man with the silk scarf, ask if we can borrow it.”

Gary looked stumped, but walked over to the man and requested the use of his scarf.

“Get the official to tie the scarf as a blind fold… Then he and I will dance…”

Gary explained to the annoyed official, thinking that this situation had gone too far, but when I scowled at him, he relinquished. He doubled the scarf over and tied it over my eyes, knotting it tight on the back of my head. It seemed an age before the official took my hand and positioned himself to start.

Unknown to me, during this time one of ginger woman’s supporters ran up and clapped her hands close to my ears. When again, I showed no reaction; she screamed in the other. The lack of any reaction convinced the crowd that I was indeed deaf. The official called Security to remove the woman.

I felt the official’s hand tap me. One, two, three, and again on the next count, we set off. I could feel his finger tapping the rhythm in time with my internal clock. Whilst not as strong a dancer as Gary, he was light on his feet, and we moved in unison around the dance floor.

Later, Gary explained what happened. As they removed the one woman, all the remaining couples left the dance floor, not wanting to be included in the final dance off.

As the music started, the Ginger haired woman’s partner also refused to dance with her and stood his ground. She tried desperately to encourage a new partner to join her, but no one took her challenge and she stormed off into the crowd.

I then felt the official tapping to indicate to me to stop, and he untied my blindfold. As my eyes adjusted back to the light, I could see we were the only ones on the dance floor. The crowd was clapping. Gary, Helen, and Cat were also clapping as they walked to join me.

They all congratulated me, as the official invited Gary and I, to join him on the stage. As we walked, I realised the crowd was chanting repeatedly, “The Belle… The Belle… The Belle of the ball…”

On stage, they presented me with a tiara, some champagne and we both received tickets that entitled us both to free rides on the fun fare all night. The official photographer took several photos of the presentation, then we rejoined the crowd.

I had never had any achievement so widely applauded, let alone win a tiara at the same time. Cat and Helen were the first to congratulate us, and soon we were joined by Kevin, Mark, and some of Gary’s other friends.

Helen popped the champagne, and we all drank our fill. I was riding on a high, feeling quite the princess with my tiara. I felt quite the centre of attention, which was new to me. Gary could quite easily have gone off with his multitude of friends, but he remained at my side, just as excited.

“Isla, I can’t get over how you manage to never cease to amaze me…”

“Ha he, just you stand there and look pretty, now you’re my eye candy…”

Helen and Cat burst out laughing and quickly translated before Gary could twist it in his favour.

We moved on to the fun fair as the dance floor became a nightclub. Once outside, everything became competitive between the siblings, who could ride the fastest, bounce the highest, shoot the hardest target.

The automatic rodeo bull was always going to be the endgame. Being in the centre of the funfair, you couldn’t miss it. We watched it continuously in anticipation, between drinks and other rides.

The table of rider’s times was growing and soon, both Gary’s and Helen’s old rivals remained on top of the leader board. They kept being drawn back to it and were preparing themselves for a showdown.

“It’s all down to timing,” Gary told me, “not to ride too soon and allow others time to improve on theirs. Wait until they have worn themselves out, or are already tiring, then beat their times and walk away. Keeping yourself fresh, just in case…”

Time and time again, friendly rivalry appeared as various people passed us. Some was just banter amongst friends, others were genuine rivals and wanted to win. The next time we passed the bull, Gary held us lingering just a little longer than before and I knew he was ready.

He waited for the last rider to fall, then stepped up, showed his free pass and passed me his jacket. He looked focussed as he sat on the bull. It was all surreal, as the floor was a soft PVC covered foam pad and the area was ringed by an inflated cushion.

All around us, the spectators were taking it all as serious as Gary. Then Gary waved his arm, and the operator started the ride. The first few initial twists and turns were mild and to lull Gary into a false sense of security. The operator turned a knob and the speed and variety of movement increased, flicking Gary into all kinds of positions.

As Gary twisted and turned to absorb the machine’s random movements, I couldn’t help but admire his physique. The way his hips flicked and rotated, I found my cave woman instincts clicking in and imagining him in bed, on top of me…

Looking around, I could see other women smiling, possibly thinking the same… Conversely, Cat and Helen were silently whooping and waving their arms in the air, like wild Herefordshire cowgirls. The clock was racking up the seconds, getting closer to the leader’s time.

Gary was still on, holding on tight with one hand whilst his other arm flayed around in the air, balancing his movements. He was impressing in his blur of movements, keeping up with the automated bull.

The crowd’s arms all punched the air in triumph as the clock ticked past the current record. The operator decided enough was enough and twisted the control knob further, causing the machine to become even more erratic.

I saw Gary’s hand slip, then the massive twist of the bull in the opposite direction and Gary flew off the machine onto the soft landing area. He got up, unhurt, searched for his name to see it at the top of the board and a new record time… He punched the air wildly and bounced across to the exit, then came around to us.

Even though panting for breath, he was jubilant as he reached me. He squeezed the air out of me in a huge bear hug, kissing me. Cat and Helen were also jubilant, but Helen then made her way to the entrance, paid her fee and climbed on the bull…

She looked like a cartoon character in her ball gown, overflowing an automatic bull, preparing for her ride. Whilst some of the crowd filtered away, a lot more women came to watch. Helen was well known and liked around the farm community.

She waved her arm to show to the operator she was ready, and she was off… Initially the operator gave her slightly longer to acclimatise, then he increased the speed… I noticed that while it seemed random; the movements seemed to follow several repeatable options, but not predictable.

The operator didn’t rotate the control knob to the level of Gary’s turn. Until Helen got close to the woman’s current leader and he notched it up further. Helen hung on and, like her dancing, she was extremely agile as she flicked around.

I noticed Kevin admiring her, possibly in the same way I did with Gary… All the female spectators were silently cheering and whooping, supporting Helen on her ride. The clock ticked onwards and just as was reaching the record, Helen slipped and unceremoniously slid off the bull.

Disappointment reigned around the ring. Helen was keen to attempt another ride, but Gary had a brief whisper in her ear and she retired from the ring…

“Isla, have a go? Remember, this is not George… So you can’t whisper this bull.” Helen shouted across, beckoning me forward. She had a chat with the operator, but had turned her head, so I couldn’t lip-read her. The operator acknowledged her with a suspicious smile and a nod.

Cat helped me up onto the ring, and Helen bounced over to help me onto the bull. She showed me the best handhold and mimicked her movements to show me her riding technique. Cat and Helen stepped away, leaving me alone, sat up on this huge mechanical bull…

Cameras flashed and again, I felt naked and alone… Initially the bull rotated, slowly turning and bucking, getting me used to the feel of my handhold. I recognised the sequence of movement and prepared myself for the next possible options.

Soon I was into it, focussed and hanging on for dear life. I felt my hair flick and my newly won tiara slide… Holding my tiara onto my head; I felt more balanced. In reality, it was a false sense of security as the bull bucked and flicked, before I realised I was upside down on the soft landing area…

I was laughing hysterically, surprised that I had survived… all around me people were cheering and clapping… Helen appeared to help me up and adjust my tiara back straight. She pointed to the leader board, as we bounced off the ring,… I was sixth… Helen second… She gave me a big hug, squeezing what little air I had out of me.

“Wow, that was madness… What did you say to the operator?” I signed to Helen.

She laughed, holding onto me, saying, “I threatened to break his legs if he hurt you, or you didn’t make at least the top ten… And you got sixth!”

Gary pulled me from Helen, to give me another bear hug and shower me in kisses, as we all moved off. It was possibly the best night of my life. People congratulated me in being awarded the ‘Belle of the Ball,’ and at my sixth place bull ride, as we mingled through the crowd.

We rode other rides, often several times, in between visits to the bar area. Helen had a few more attempts at the bull ride, but whilst she improved, she couldn’t improve enough and had to settle for second place. Each time, Gary kept a keen eye on his top position that seemed invincible.