Changing Seasons. Winter part 1

Winter, part 1 Let’s face it, Lachlan thought, he had completely failed his family. This disaster had been his idea and it was all his fault. If only they hadn’t bought this place before Marianna got pregnant. They would have had some capital behind them – not a lot, but they could have bought somewhere sensible. Instead, here he was, stuck in the middle of nowhere, with a place they couldn’t sell. And four children. And a wife who didn’t seem to like him very much any more. When he thought back to the young couple they’d been only four years ago, they seemed like different people. “This place is impossible as it is.” Marianna, pushing and driving again. “The beds and cots will all have to come downstairs. I thought we were moving to a warmer part of the country! And there’s no stove. But you’re clever with your hands. Make something for us.” “But what with?”
“There’s a mountain of scrap metal outside. Go sort through it and see what you can find. We need hot meals. The children need hot food, Lachlan.” Unpacking hadn’t taken long. They had pitifully few belongings. The beds had all been moved and set up downstairs – he’d better head outside and sort through the scrap pile.
“We need that stove, Lachlan. It won’t wait.” He started to dismantle a likely-looking bit of junk. And there had been an old metal barrel out there. And he’d seen some grating. That bit of his mind still seemed to work, amazingly enough. The ideas were flowing. A bit sluggishly, but they were flowing. He started to hammer a better curve into the piece on his workbench. If only he could reshape his life as easily. Go back in time and not have that moonlight swim, that romantic evening, that sunrise walk. It had been a great weekend, but the results had been disastrous. His hammer struck sparks from the metal. Marianna’s kiln sat silent and neglected behind him. She’d been going to do more glasswork: she was a promising young glassblower. He’d been going to do the metalwork he so loved. They’d build up a reputation, get links to local galleries. And later start a family. He went in to help with the lunchtime feeding frenzy. At least he could do this. When the babies had been tiny little scraps in their hospital cots, he’d not been able to do anything. Marianna had been valiantly expressing milk for them, but he’d been useless. “It’s salad. What about that stove? Are you getting anywhere? Any ideas or useful bits?” Just getting four children up in the morning took so long. And it was so dark and gloomy. The shutters were closed over the windows to keep the heat in, and that made sense. But there was no daylight. Anywhere. There. That should work. He’d put some sheet metal on the wall, above and below the stove, just to cut down on the fire risk. They’d been living off salad for three days, but now they could cook again. He’d felt more in control there. Were these children ever going to get the hang of using a potty chair? It honestly didn’t seem like it. It wasn’t exactly snow, but there was a hard frost at night. The stove helped keep the room warm – and Marianna wanted him to make a guard to put round the fireplace so that they could light a fire as well. Having a practical goal helped. Lachlan went outside to dig through the scrap heaps again. He headed towards his workbench to make a start on the fireguard. This was better. This was better than being in the house with Marianna and those children.
Your children, said a voice in his head. Your wife. But he stifled it. Out her in his workshop he could achieve something, could succeed, even if only in a tiny way. Making things was so much more straightforward than dealing with people. The fire was safely fenced off, and the metal panels were far enough away that they didn’t get too hot. Marianna draped the washing over them and they did help it to dry. Now the faucet was leaking and he needed to fix it so that she could use the sink for yet more laundry. But what now? Now he didn’t know what to do with himself. “Somewhere round here there has to be a shop. Or shops. Go out on your bike. Find them. Find out something about where we’re living. Go outside and look. We’re going to run out of things. And come back and tell me what you find out.” He’d cycled past the shop before he realised what it was, before he saw the light on inside and a person there. Sticking plasters. He could do with some of those for the workshop. And there were baby things too. He supposed Marianna would be pleased about that. But he didn’t know what she wanted, so he’d better not buy anything. The woman behind the counter was so talkative!
“Hi! I’m Minnie. Minnie Wagner – and this is my little shop. We’ve not met before – are you just passing through? Or visiting Patience and Euan? If you are, can you tell her I dug out my mother’s old sewing machine for her, but it kind of needs servicing. Used to work just fine, but I haven’t used it for, oh it must be…” He let the tide of words wash over him, but eventually realised he was going to have to say something. “Nice to meet you.” His manners felt creaky and underused. “I’m Lachlan McGowan.” What next? Oh yes…
“I’m sorry, I don’t know Patience and Euan. We’ve moved in to the old forge…”
“Oh my! I know the place you mean! I’d heard rumours it was sold – well, Old Tench told me so a few years back, so I guess you bought it from those people, whoever they were. Anyways, welcome to the town. You said, we?” He couldn’t face any more interrogation.
“Did you say that machine needed servicing? I could do that for you. I have a workshop.”
Minnie noticed him turning the subject, but said nothing about it.
“That’d be real kind of you. Do you want me to drop it off for you in my car? I know the place…”
“No. I’ll take it with me. And return it when it’s done. Next week, I should think.”
And now he was going to have to face her again later on!

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