Chapter 13

High above the valley, the mother kestrel was back swooping and soaring in search of prey to feed her young. She saw the man in the camouflage jacket and saw the tiny figure of the woman as she made her way up the hill and the darkness that slipped along in her wake.

Swooping higher on the airborne thermals, the kestrel searched for safer haunts to find prey.

Amelia-Rose was out of breath but the climb was exhilarating. At the top of the hill, the pub stood like a solitary sentinel over the crossroads.

Suddenly there was a baying sound behind her which raised the hairs on the back of her neck and seconds later she was awash with hounds that swept past howling as they went. Horses followed at full gallop, the jackets of their riders creating a sea of crimson amongst the pale yellow and gold of the gorse.

Amelia-Rose shrank back as the wave of violence tore past her. As she walked nearer to the bar, she saw there were more hunt followers that were watching from the front verandah. It gave them a panoramic view of the valley and the chase. Some were using binoculars while others seem to be more interested in talking than the chase below.

From inside the bar came the sound of music and singing. For an isolated country bar it was surprisingly heaving with humanity and Amelia-Rose found herself standing at the door wondering whether she'd be able to squeeze in.

Her dilemma was solved by a young couple, who came up behind her giving her no option but to push her way into the melee. The sound of the music was stronger now and pulsated with excitement and abandon. It seemed that everybody inside the pub had a musical instrument. There were banjos, flutes, piano accordions, violins and hand-held drums. Bodies were scattered everywhere. People were draped anywhere they could find a space and everybody was joining in.

An old woman had just packed away her concertina and saw Amelia-Rose looking uncertain.

"You can have my space, m'dear," she said. "I've got to go and feed my goats. It's a good spot because it's close to the bar."

Amelia-Rose nodded her thanks and once she was in her seat leaned back to order a drink from the barman.

"What will you be having my dear," he said.

"A glass of ... whatever everybody else is drinking."

They all seemed happy enough and Amelia-Rose didn't want to stand out. The barman nodded and started to pour her a glass of cider. Minutes later she found she wasn't going to stay hidden for long.

A large bodied woman who was seated in the center of the group of players suddenly stood up at the end of a fast and furious tune and called for the group be silent.

"Ladies and gentleman," she said, "We have new blood amongst us."

"We have indeed, Kate," the man on her right exclaimed.

He was a slight stringy man with long dark hair tied at the back of his head in a ponytail; he was very good looking with sharp eyes and an aquiline nose. On one side of him he had a large melodeon and on the other a violin propped casually against his chair. Amelia-Rose noticed that he was playing both and joining in with every tune with great gusto.

"You are the new occupier of the Valley Cottage," a younger man explained from the corner, almost hidden by a pile of coats.

"As you are a local, you are doubly welcome," the man with the violin exclaimed. "If you can play a tune then you will be welcome for ever and you will never walk alone around here."

Amelia-Rose was completely lost for words at their generous welcome and just smiled in her embarrassment.

"Don't let them put you off," said Kate, cutting in reassuringly. "They don't mean any harm and you are certainly welcome whether or not you play an instrument."

The man with the hawk like face beside Kate nodded his agreement. Kate continued.

"Come on folks - leave her be. We don't want to scare her away." She turned to Amelia-Rose.

"Have a think," she continued. "As a newcomer, you get pride of place. You can sing, borrow somebody's treasured instrument or just sit and enjoy our camaraderie - it's entirely up to you!"

"I'd rather just sit and listen for now," said Amelia-Rose and paid for the glass of cider that came from the bar.

An old man at the far end of the bar stood up and started a new tune and within minutes everyone was playing and the bar was bathed in sweeping and soaring sounds and rhythms that shook the rafters. Amelia-Rose was completely electrified. When that tune had ended, another of the throng started a different tune and in their turn yet more piled into the musical fray.

Half-an-hour later with some relief, Amelia-Rose was becoming sure they'd forgotten about her, but Kate caught her eye and nodded.

"You are on after this one if you like," she said.

Copyright of this site is Rob Hopcott's, 1999 - 2009, all rights reserved. All characters in this story are fictitious and no reference is intended to any person living or otherwise.
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