But then, such was life, really.
‘It’s nearly time, I think,’ Thorn said, taking out the pocket watch she’d gifted him for his birthday a few weeks ago—which he’d only mentioned by accident—a necessity more than a trinket, or so she’d promised him; no matter that she’d had it engraved with poppies. ‘We should make our way to wherever it is we are going,’ he said with a light huff, his head craning above the crowd to get his bearings. ‘I admit, it all looked rather differently last night, without all the people.’
‘There, I think,’ Hypatia pointed, spotting the church spire of the nearest village. She’d noticed it looking closer last evening when they’d come with Danny to drop off Belinda and Clyde for today’s showing. ‘I think it should be the general direction ofthatway.’
‘How very precise, my dear. Perhaps you should explore navigation or map-making as your next occupations.’
‘Perhaps I shall,’ she said, as Thorn led the way, navigating the crush and din. Though she doubted that would ever be her life, they sounded interesting enough, so she wouldn’t mind exploring them more. ‘I cannot believe we’ve been here three hours already. I did not see the time pass.’
‘Neither did I. Though I’m glad we came early, at the very least some good ideas for investment, particularly as regards some of those tools and contraptions for the farm. And we did get our gift-shopping done for everyone.’
‘Very true, and very clever of us for being so prepared and organised,’ Hypatia laughed gently. ‘I must say, having seen this… I don’t know that I can even begin to imagine the scale of the show in Oxford. Admittedly, I’m not sorry we missed our chance this year, as I don’t think I would’ve been prepared for that.’
‘Me neither.’
‘Perhaps next year. If—when—we win here, it will be a very good start, and we shall have quite a while to enjoy our laurels and prepare to obtain new ones.’
‘As you say,’ Thorn smiled distractedly.
Something about the manner in which he said that, struck Hypatia as a bit odd, but then she dismissed it as distraction too, for they’d arrived at the wooden stage—decorated with banners and fanions—where the swine showing was about to commence.
Thorn once again examined it all from his vantage, and led them to the front of the gathered crowd, though slightly to the side, so there was a few more inches to breathe.
‘And remember,’ the announcer or presenter, or whatever he was meant to be called, boomed out from onstage. ‘All these glorious and impressive animals are available for purchase at our auction following this presentation and prize, in the tent to my right!’ he told the assembled crowd, showing the thing.
The crowd itself was a strange beast, Hypatia thought—a mix of farmers, locals, visitors of every class, people of the trade such as butchers, children, and so much more—half-caught between cheering as one would for a show, commenting quietly, or conducting business as it all went on before them.
‘I’m nervous too,’ Thorn whispered, leaning down to do so best he could by her ear, which was somewhat complex due to her rather large bonnet;sansgrapes. He placed a kiss on her cheek too, and she calmed somewhat, at least outwardly, for inside she was still a jittering jar of flying ants. ‘We did all we could, and whatever happens, we will be seen.’
‘I know,’ she breathed, steadying herself in his gaze, as she found she so often did now. Staying herself by marking all the familiar lines and details of him; as one might take comfort in reading a beloved book over and over again. ‘It is likely foolish tohope that we might win…so many others have worked as hard as we, and we are new to this still, however, I cannot help myself.’
‘Neither can I,’ Thorn admitted, taking strength she hoped, from her too for a few moments, before they turned back to the stage.
The show itself was edifying and educational. Hypatia tried her hand at studying the beasts as those more informed in the crowd did—trying to note and distinguish aspects the presenter pointed out, neighbouring watchers or the judges all set on the stage now did—as it helped focus her mind away from their own entries.
From what she saw before Belinda and Clyde were brought out—all pigs being presented one after the other, though there were separate prizes for hogs and sows today—they would at the very least make a good show of it.
Finally, it was their turn, and Hypatia clutched Thorn’s arm tightly, as first Belinda—‘Admire the straightness of her lines, the beauty of those spots, the thickness and purity of her colour! Belinda weighs in at thirty-five stone one pound!’—then Clyde—‘Another exceptional animal from Gadmin Hall, with a perfection of ear length, and again, that excellent coat, in marking, colour, and hair consistency, Clyde weighs in at forty-two stone and eight pound!’—were led out and shown to an extremely enthusiastic crowd.
Thorn, like her, didn’t dare breathe, or perhaps they were too caught up in the cheers and excited mutterings, not to mention the points and nods in their direction—that’s the Earl and Lady Gadmin there; at least until another three or four pigs were brought up.
And this isn’t even the most nerve-wracking part.
‘We can hold our heads high,’ Hypatia said once she’d regained some manner of breath and voice. ‘As you say, at least we made a good show of it.’
Nodding, Thorn expelled a breath, and gave her as much of a smile as he could, patting her hands, still tightly holding his arm.
Time was lost to Hypatia as the showings finished, and the judges—local magistrates, mayors, and gentlemen with no proverbialskin in the game—debated their decisions, before handing their decisions off to the presenter, who shared it with the hands who would collect and bring back up the winning swine.
‘All right, all right, settle down,’ he called, and here it was, the most nerve-wracking part of this whole expedition.Please, she prayed to nothing and everything.Please. One win.‘Now, we’ll be the gentlemen we are, and start off with the ladies!’
‘Come on, Belinda,’ Hypatia muttered.
‘With a most excellent shape, and nigh-perfect features, our meritorious mention goes to Jilly of Thimble Farm!’
Cheers, and applause met that pronouncement; Jilly—a beautiful sow with a picture-perfect pinkish white coat—was brought back up, whilst her owner went up to shake the judges’ hands, bow for the crowd, and lead Jilly off.
‘Come on Belinda…’
