Lettuces and Cream by John Evans Page B

remains of an electric cooker. And the dull grey afternoon added to the dismal scene, as pigs, hens, and a couple of geese and some Jersey cattle roamed amongst the junk trying to find a blade of grass.
    As Mike opened the van door, one of the cows wandered over to investigate the visitors, perhaps hoping to be fed. Then, two collie dogs, with tails wagging in a friendly manner came to greet them.
    ‘Are you sure this is the place, Mike?’
    ‘No I’m not but I’ll get out and see if anyone is about. Huh, the place is a dump’ He found it hard to believe such places existed. As he tiptoed his way through the mud and muck towards the house, a figure came from the house and headed towards him. It was difficult to know whether it was male or female, until the apparition spoke.
    ‘Yes, what do you want,’ she said curtly and with a very English accent.
    ‘I’m looking for Mary - Keith Bowen sent me.’
    Her manner changed in an instant, probably at the thought of some money changing hands. Seeing that there was life, albeit alien looking, Jan got out of the van and began her approach, staring at the woman with utter fascination.
    Mary was wearing a filthy, nineteen forties man’s raincoat tied with baling string at the waist. On her head she had an old trilby, from which bits of dirty straggly hair were trying to escape. Her skin looked yellowish and dirty and her teeth not much better. With her sharp long nose –she was a witch. At first glance Jan thought the woman was wearing Wellingtons. But on closer inspection, she was wearing dung encrusted shoes, no socks, and the ‘welly’ illusion was created by a line of dirt to knee height. Jan was astounded. Mary wasn’t old, only in her late thirties, but looked older. She was well spoken, very English, and Jan wondered how she had come to be living like this.
    ‘I’m in the middle of mucking out, come up to the house.’
    When they got to the house they were in for another shock. The mucking out wasn’t taking place in one of the sheds - but in the house. The room to the left of the front door, housed pigs and Mary had been throwing the straw and pig muck through the open sash window. The room to the right was her ‘living room.’ A table, a single bed with dirty bedding, a tatty easy chair, upon which a unhealthy looking black cat was asleep – perhaps she really was a witch. Anything seemed possible in such a place. The house was as dirty and scruffy as the outside and they both silently prayed she wouldn’t offer them a cup of tea - and God knows what she kept upstairs.
    ‘This is the sow for sale, I did have two but one’s sold, this is Pinky come on Pinky.’ Mucky Mary’s countenance changed to one of happy adoration as the beast waddled over to her. It grunted happily as Mary dropped some kitchen scraps over the four-foot high barrier across the doorway to the room.
    ‘She’s in-pig and due in a couple of weeks. I want sixty pounds for her. She’s a good pig, she had thirteen in her first litter. Have you got somewhere nice to keep her?’
    Mike and Jan looked at each other, somewhere nice, what a cheek, and thought, oh yes we have, and it’s a palace compared to this place.
    ‘Oh yes, I’ve just built some new pens, she’ll be fine,’ Mike replied, taking out a wad of pound notes from a pocket, the last of their own money, soon they would be using the Banks.
    ‘Well, I’ll still have to look at her pen when I bring her over. Won’t be until Thursday midday though, I’m busy,’ her eyes glinted hungrily as he saw the wad of money being counted and added, ‘and do you want to buy a nice Jersey house cow?’
    ‘Um, not really,’ Mike said hesitantly, ‘not just at the moment.’
    ‘No, we really can’t afford it just now,’ Jan reinforced.
    ‘Come and take a look at her, she’s in calf – due about three weeks after Pinky she’s a good milker - hundred quid to you,’ she grinned showing her glorious yellow and rotting teeth.
    She