Chapter 55

New Years Eve was again very busy at the Combe Inn, and Abby once more made herself useful, collecting empties and washing them for Jack to refill. As Midnight approached she found herself unthinkingly at James' side. Jack had tuned the Radio to the BBC and as the gongs of Big Ben rang out, He kissed her and whispered.

"Happy New Year, Abby." Abby didn't realise that the cheers were more about James kissing Abby, than the New Year that dawned. With that indication of Abby's and James feelings for each other, the news was disseminated throughout the valley quite quickly. Most eagerly awaited the announcement of an Engagement and when that failed to come questions were asked. Worried minds debated this with other worried minds. They could not understand the turmoil that was going on in James' mind, who had the most worried mind of all.

As before when he came back from the Falklands, James went to see Sam.

Mavis had gone to Paverton, so they had the cottage to themselves. Sitting at the big table with mugs in front of them, Sam waited for James to start. After a few minutes of silence, Sam prodded James.

"Was there something special you wanted to talk about?" He asked. James was still silent, so Sam had another go.

"Or perhaps someone special you wanted to talk about." James nodded. But apart from that said nothing.

"Would it be Abby?" Sam pushed a bit more. James nodded again. Sam took a sip from his mug.

"Well it's a good conversation we are having." He paused for a moment waiting for a response. There was no response.

"What about Abby?" He persevered. At last James said something.

"I don't know what to do about her."

"Ah, we have speech. But I don't understand, is she upsetting people, or poking her nose in where it isn't wanted?" James was shaking his head.

"No, it's nothing like that; it's about Abby and me." Sam nodded gravely.

"So, it's got to that stage has it?" James looked up questioning the statement.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Mr. James, that Abby is fond of you, and you are fond of Abby. That's the stage I am talking about."

"Yes Sam, but what do I do about it?" Sam laughed out loud.

"Oh, Mr. James, from the gossip I would say you are doing something about it." James let a small grin come to his face.

"No no, I am not talking about spending time together, but what do I do about keeping her here. My mother said that Abby had hinted that she had other things to do, and just the other day, Abby said something to the effect that she could move."

Sam shook his head in amazement. "Mr. James. Listen to me for a moment. First of all, do you think that Abby would be spending all that money on the house and station, if she was thinking of moving on? Do you think that she would be doing all this work and putting money into the co-operative if she was thinking of moving on? And do you think she would be spending time with you, and becoming close, if she was thinking of moving on?"

"I accept that, but I don't know where to go from here." Sam shook his head sorrowfully.

"I can't believe I am hearing this. Mr. James Comberford, who has run this estate for getting on fifteen years, Captain Comberford DSC. The bold and decisive officer and you don't know where you go from here. Well I will tell you what you should do. Ask Abby to marry you. Simple!" James was shocked, not so much because Sam had made that suggestion, but the tone of voice he used.

"I ... I couldn't do that."

"Why? Don't you Love her?" He was pleased that James did not have to think about that.

"Yes, I do."

"So why can't you ask her to marry you?"

"Because I don't know how she feels about me." Sam with a little anger decided it was time to be blunt.

"Damn you man! She sleeps with you. Do you think that Abby would do that unless she was in love with you? I certainly don't." James went white in the face. He never thought that Sam would refer to that or even acknowledge that he knew about Abby's and his weekends.

"But she's never said that she loves me."

"Have you told her that you love her?"

"Well, not sort of." Sam could not believe that James was this stupid.

"Well, not sort of." He threw James' words back at him. "I suggest that you tell her very quickly, and that you follow that up with a proposal. You say you are worried that Abby might leave. All I can say is that the way you are going on is the way to make certain that she does leave. For God's sake man! Get a grip. Talk to her, tell her how you feel." James was shaking his head.

"She will probably think I am asking her because she is well off, I can't have her believe that of me."

"Abby will not believe that of you at all. I know."

"I don't understand. How do you know?"

"James, I have been here on this earth and in this valley for eighty years. In that time I have learned a thing or two about people. I have watched you grow up, and become the man you are today. An honest man. A man of integrity and values. You have this failing though; you don't act when sometimes you should. In the short time Abby has been here she has recognised those values in you, and understanding that, she could never believe for a moment that you would ask her to marry for any other reason than your love for her. Now go away and think about that, but don't take too long, because I want to see your wedding; and if Abby were to ask me; give her away. But I am eighty, and I don't know if I have the time left for you to dally around. So jump to it Captain Comberford!"

James left Gallow Farm having received a shock. Sam had never spoken to him in such a way before. He had gone to see Sam expecting him to understand and sympathise with the problem. Instead Sam had not sympathised, and could see no problem at all. To cap it all it appeared that Sam had lost some respect for him. Never in all these years had Sam addressed him other than as Mr. James. Now to be called just James was not; as in most cases; a sign of friendship, but more a reflection of Sam's loss of respect. It didn't matter what Sam had said, James could not believe that the solution was a simple as all that. He was certain that if he asked, Abby would refuse him. There were no solid reasons for this belief, it was something that had come into his head without reason some time ago, and the passing of weeks and months had done nothing to change that idea. So entrenched was this notion that Sam's words could not convince him otherwise.

January rolled into February, cold, damp and misty. Abby felt guilty about the men who worked on the station, they had some shelter from the cold rain that fell so frequently, but with no heating, bar the small grate in the Waiting Room, the station was at best a cheerless place, how could her grandfather have put up with it? But George's workmen seemed a cheerful lot and always greeted her warmly when she went down to view the progress. Then as if by magic, at the end of February a most significant change came over the station. The new flagstones for the platform had been delivered and were down. The plastering and painting had been completed, and there in a long, plastic-wrapped package were the Barge Boards. Some of the crew had gone over to the Goods Shed and were busy stripping long-neglected paint; others were chipping out powdered mortar and re-pointing. The metamorphosis from dry chrysalis to butterfly was almost complete.

The small parcel that arrived for Abby one day excited little interest for Mary, who was surprised when Abby seemed very excited about it. The post mark was Taunton. The covering letter was from the photographic processor who explained that much of the film was beyond saving. However they had managed to rescue some thirty minutes of footage and that had been transferred to the DVD enclosed. Abby ate breakfast hurriedly, eager to get to the Estate office where she had left her lap top computer.