I didn’t see him when I took their lunches down to them. He was at the bottom end of the field, somewhere in the crop. But then I hadn’t really wanted to see him again so soon after this morning.

Ifan had cursed and shouted at me for being late bringing lunch down to the troops. I had to wait for the bread to rise, and then bake it before packing it and bringing it down here, still warm and fresh smelling.

Ifan made a show of shouting at me in strong welsh dialect. Much to the amusement of the English land girls who at first stood there shocked, not saying anything. And then when I put the basket down and turned to leave, Ianto still strapped to my back they shouted at Ifan on my behalf, as he walked in the opposite direction with his lunch tin in his hand.

I felt disappointed then when I didn’t get to see him. Mateo, with his coffee kiss, his eyes locked into mine as he lent in to kiss me.

Why was he on my mind, when I should have been feeling like a loose woman, a woman who has wronged. I just couldn’t get those smouldering eyes out of my head and his dark curly hair.

I got back to the house, and put some water on, taking the brown paper bag from my piny pocket and smelling the coffee inside. I set about making some, just a small cup for myself and drank it as I prepared the evening meal.



The workers came in from their long day in the field, Mateo not looking to meet my eye. All but two were missing, Seren and the cheeky looking Italian Marco. I had prepared Lob Scouse, a stew of pork and vegetables all form our own garden. It should have been beef, but we couldn’t afford the meet in these times, and we had plenty of pigs outside in their sty.

Ifan grumbled again about my offerings, and then about waiting for Seren and Marco to arrive.

He knew as much as I did that they were both missing together, and from the way they had been acting, they were probably up to no good.

‘Right, that’s it’ Ifan shouted standing up from the table, getting his rifle from were it hung over the fireplace.

Mateo and Enrico, sat by the table patiently waiting as they did every night for Ifan to say his grace. They both looked at me, expecting me to do something.

‘No wait’ I said trying to diffuse the situation, not knowing what Ifan would do if he caught them.

‘I will go’ I pleaded, seeing anger in Ifan’s eyes. I looked away as I couldn’t look at him properly.

‘You stay here, start on your dinner’ I said handing him a extra slab of bread to dip in his stew.

‘start, don’t wait for me.’ I said in welsh. Taking the rifle from Ifan and putting it back above the fire place.

‘Say grace, they probably are talking somewhere….’ I trailed off in English again.

‘Yn y nos?’ Ifan shouted in welsh. In the night? ‘Huh’ and he sat back down as I grabbed my shawl off the hook by the door, just catching Mateo’s eye as I headed out of the door. His face a look of concern.

The nights had started to cool down now, with a slight chill in the air. The days shortening as the nights had started to draw in. pulling my shawl around my shoulders and holding it tightly as I walked around the yard looking for the pair.

I checked the cow shed, the stables, and the yard, but all was quiet no movement any where.

‘The barn’ I thought suddenly, making my way out through the gate.

I got to the barn and pushed the big wooden door open, hearing it creak. It was quite in here. I looked around in the dark, nothing struck me as being out of the ordinary.

As I was just heading out of the door, I heard a noise, more like a giggle, a laugh. ‘Seren’ I thought.

‘Seren?’ I called. Waiting for a answer.

‘Seren, mae cinio yn barod, lle wyt ti?’ I called to her in welsh, telling her dinner was ready, and asking where she was?

‘ Oh, Megan’. She shouted back, from up the top of the barn.

I went to the ladder, still hearing her giggle, and slowly climbed my way up to the top.

As I put my head through the square hole to the loft, I gasped and quickly made my way back down.

For the sight that I had seen, Seren naked her arms around Marco’s neck. Her legs straddled either side of him, he was holding her close around the waist, as he kissed her chest.

They just caught sight of me as I looked. Hearing me gasp.

‘Megan, megan’ she said and I could hear them scrambling about up there in the loft.

‘Cinio, Rhwan’ I shouted in welsh, and made my way out of the barn and back towards the kitchen. The image of my sister naked and making love, having fun, something that I had never experienced with a man. It stayed with me all through dinner.

Ifan had already left the table and was sitting by the fire, his whiskey glass in hand, staring in to the flames as he poked the fire alive. I looked at Mateo, who’s dark eyes questioned mine. But I couldn’t say anything, not with Ifan sitting there. He didn’t even ask, if I had found them as he really truly didn’t care.

When Seren and Marco finally walked through the door as I was washing the last of the bowls. All eyes turned to them, questioning and wondering, when really knowing what they had been doing all along.

Ifan jumped up and grabbed his rifle, making us all jump, not knowing what he intended, but he said in plain English for everyone to understand.

‘It time to take these ‘Itia’s’ back to where they belong’ Relief swept through me as I looked from Seren who now had her hand in Marco’s, holding him protectively, to Enrico and Mateo, who had both jumped up when he took his gun down.

Ifan let out a stifled laugh, more like a grunt. Thinking this was funny, laughing at his own stupidity.

Seren gave me a weary smile, and kissed Marco on the lips as soon as Ifan was out of the door, the three Italians saying there good night’s.

Mateo personally taking my hand and kissing my cheek quickly, and whispering in my ear.

‘sono dolce sogno della Bella’ and he brushed my hair back, feeling his hand run the down the length of it. not knowing what it was that he had said, but it sounded so sincere and the most beautifully spoken words ever my ears had heard.

‘buona notte’ and with that he slipped his hand out of mine, finger tips, just fleeting, then walking out of the door to catch the others up.

For the few miles walk back to camp before their curfew was up.

Seren’s face more shocked by what she had just seen, here in this kitchen, as she poured us both a whiskey and a half.

The End

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