[At a Hotel in Wensleydale, mid-July]

“Good afternoon, can I help you?” said the man at the reception desk.

“Yes, I have a room booked for the night in the name of Michaels,” said Melissa.

The man looked at something on the desk. The something was a thick ledger. Melissa smiled. Everywhere seemed to be computerised. Already, the atmosphere of this hotel seemed different from everywhere else that she’d stayed, not just on this trip but anywhere in her life.

“Ah, yes. Welcome to Wensleydale, Ms Michaels. I am afraid that we are running a little behind with our service today. Your room will not be ready for at least half an hour. Why don’t you take a seat in the lounge, and I’ll get you some tea or coffee? On the house…”

“Oh. Ok, thank you. Some tea would be fine.”

“Any particular sort of tea? We have Green, China, Darjeeling, Earl Grey and English Breakfast?”

“Oh,” said Melissa, a little surprised at the offer of a selection of teas.
“Darjeeling, please.”

“Great. I’ll get it brought over to you in a few minutes.”

Melissa sat down in one of the large Chesterfield sofas that were dotted around the lounge area. After all the concrete box hotels she'd been in for the past month, this place was remarkably… quaint. She wondered if the exposed beams were real. Then she kicked herself. She'd seen a carving on the outside of the property proclaiming that the inn had been built in 1649.

[a few minutes later]
“Ms Michaels, here is your tea. We don’t serve cream with tea, but the milk is fully loaded.”

The man arrived with a tray loaded down with a teapot, milk jug, a bone china cup and saucer, plus two clearly homemade fairy cakes. She was impressed.

“Fully Loaded?”

“Sorry, it is full cream milk. If you want semi-skimmed or skimmed milk, goats or oat milk, please let me know.”

“This will be fine.”

“Will you be dining with us tonight?”

“I hadn’t really thought about that.”

“I took the liberty of bringing you a menu. Every main ingredient apart from the fish comes from within the county of Yorkshire. Some of the fish comes from Seahouses in Northumberland. We are proud of our local suppliers. The cod was landed at Scarborough yesterday morning.”

“Thank you. I will have a look at it while I drink my tea.”

[the following morning]
“Here is your bill. I hope that everything has been to your satisfaction?”

“Yes, everything has been great. I was hoping to thank the man who was here when I arrived yesterday. His recommendation for my meal was very good.”

“Ah,” said the young woman who was dealing with her check-out.
“That would be Jack. He was only here because I was taking my driving test yesterday afternoon.”

“Did you pass?”

She grinned back at Melissa.
“I did, but my boyfriend isn’t very happy. Now I get to drive his car, and he is very protective of it.”

“I don’t understand?”

The young woman smiled.
“It is a man thing…”

Ms Michaels grinned.
“I get you now.”

“Have a safe journey,” said the receptionist.

Melissa left the hotel feeling at peace with the world. The recommendation of the concierge at the hotel in London proved to be excellent.

[later that afternoon on a by-way in the Yorkshire Dales]

“Oh shit,” said Melissa as she surveyed the flat tyre on her rented car.

“Oh, double shit,” she said once she found that there was no spare in the trunk.

“Oh fuck,” she said when she found that she had zero phone coverage.
For a moment, she admonished herself for cursing like that. It was so unlike her… the old her. Then she smiled and said quietly to herself,
“I wonder if I have finally got rid of the shackles that Jeff made me wear for all of our years of marriage? For once, I don’t have to think about everything I say in case it could affect his fundraising or campaigning or even his chances of re-election.”

Then she thought… ‘Out of the darkness of adversity, bright things can emerge.’

Melissa put her now useless phone away and looked around. The moorland landscape was unlike any that she’d ever encountered before. The only sound other than the cooling of her car's exhaust system was a couple of skylarks singing their hearts out. In the distance, she could hear some sheep bleating. If her car wasn’t dead, she would have enjoyed the whole scene until she thought about how hard it had been to concentrate on the driving.

It didn’t take Melissa long to understand that this bit of road was not exactly an Interstate. It was little more than a track with some asphalt on the top. In parts, there was grass growing in the middle of the one lane. A little way back down the way that she’d come, she saw that a few potholes had been recently patched. Yes, not an Interstate. There was just enough room for one car to go along it. She’d worked out that the fairly regular pull-offs were to enable other vehicles to pass. Luckily, she’d stopped in one, so she wasn’t blocking the road. That was the good news. The bad news was that she’d not seen another vehicle on the move for a while.

She decided to sit and wait and hope…

Almost forty minutes had elapsed, and Melissa was starting to contemplate walking to civilisation when she heard the sound of a vehicle coming up the road.

Coming towards her was a strange-looking pickup-style vehicle that had very much seen better days. The passenger door was a very different colour to the body; the hood was almost entirely covered in what looked like rust. Another peculiarity was that one of the two panes of glass that went to make up the windscreen was cracked in three places. This vehicle had very much seen better days, but she could not have been happier to see it.

Melissa dithered for a moment. But she overcame her fears and waved them down.

She got a surprise when the driver got out of the cab. It was the man who had checked her into the Hotel the previous afternoon.

“Hello again,” he said, smiling.
“I see that you have a puncture. Can I be of assistance?”

“Please…”
“There is no spare, and I can’t get any cell phone reception.”

“The mobile phone signals are a bit patchy in this area. Only one of the major networks covers this part of the moor.”

He stopped for a moment.
“I’m Jack Beaumont, by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you, Jack.”

Jack knelt and looked at the front left wheel.
"This tyre is done for and probably the rim as well. That means it can't be repaired out here. We'll need to get the car recovered. The rental company should sort it all out."

“I was trying to do that, but there is no signal.”
Immediately, Melissa felt a little embarrassed for repeating herself. Then, she saw that Jack had ignored her verbal foo-pah.

Jack stood up and wiped his hands on a bit of towelling that was sticking out of a pocket of his overalls.

“I’m on my way to deliver these hurdles. The farmer needs them tomorrow. This is what I propose.”

He paused for half a second.
“Why don’t you get your things from the car and put them in the back of the Land Rover? Then we can go down to Church Farm, where I’ll deliver the hurdles to the farmer, Freddy Bishop. There should be a phone signal or a landline there, so while I’m unloading, you can phone the rental people and get them to come out and collect the car. Then we can sort out somewhere for you to stay the night.”

“Can’t I stay at the hotel like last night?”

“Afraid not. The place is fully booked for the next four nights. Two coach parties of tourists from your part of the world.”

He could see a reaction to that news.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure that my parents can find a room for a weary traveller. I live in a cottage near their home.”

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to trouble you… or them?”

“It is not a problem. They love entertaining, plus the fact that he served as a diplomat in the British Embassy in DC until he retired in 2012.”

“DC is a horrible place,” said Melissa.

Jack laughed.
“That, I can agree with. I hated visiting the place in the holidays. I’d much rather be here.”

For a moment, Melissa could understand why. The calls of a skylark and the bleating of sheep made this a vastly nicer place than DC, especially after what happened during her last visit.

[Twenty minutes later]

“That’s the last of the hurdles unloaded. Now we can sort out somewhere for you to stay. Did you get through to the rental company?”

“I did, and they will get the car picked up in the morning. They’ll deliver a new one at the same time, but I didn’t know where to send them to deliver it.”

“Sorry, Melissa,” said Jack.
“I should have thought about that. Beaumont Hall. If you call them back and tell them that, they should be able to find us.”

“Thanks.”

Melissa went back inside the farmhouse to make the phone call.

[later at Beaumont Hall]

Jack drove the Land Rover up to the main entrance. Melissa’s eyes told him that she was impressed. She saw him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She turned away. He just chuckled before saying.

“We’ve been here or thereabouts since before King John signed the Magna Carta in 1215. Most of the building dates from the time of the first King George, but the Victorians messed around with the back of the house.”

“Are you some sort of royalty?”

Jack laughed.
“No. The nearest we ever got to that was a Lieutenant to Oliver Cromwell after our Civil War. It split the family. Just before Charles II was crowned king, his brother murdered him. That restored normality in the family.”

"Touché," said Melissa as she smiled for the first time.

Just then, an older man appeared at the front door to the hall.

“That’s my father, Henry. He’s an old softie when it comes to pretty women. Mum keeps him under a pretty short leash, though. They are going to be celebrating their Ruby Wedding next weekend.”

“Impressive. Most couples get tired of each other well before then,” said Melissa as she thought about her marriage.

“Dad, this is Melissa. She is visiting from your old stomping ground in the USA. Her rental car picked up a puncture not far from Church Farm. It won’t be sorted until the morning.”

“Welcome to our little bit of GOC, Melissa. I’ll tell my wife that there will be four for dinner.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” she replied.
“GOC?”

The two men laughed.
“Sorry, God’s Own Country. We like to think that Yorkshire is just that,” said Jack.

“I meant what I said. I don’t want to be in any trouble. If someone could give me a lift to somewhere where I can get an Uber or a Bus into York…”

“Nonsense. We are only too happy to have a visitor. John, can you get our guest’s things and take them up to your old room? You know where the bed linen is kept.”

“Ok, Dad,” said Jack.

“Please come with me, love. I’ll introduce you to the lady of the house, Moira. She’s in the kitchen finishing off a birthday cake for one of our tenants.”

Melissa followed him into the depths of the house while Jack sorted out the bedroom for the guest. This was the first time that he’d been in his old bedroom since he’d moved out when he left home for university. It felt rather strange to be back there. Part of him missed the room, but he liked the privacy that his nearby cottage gave him.

When he’d made up the bed and put out some fresh towels, he had a flashback to his time working at the hotel as a teenager. The money he made in the summer helped him to cover the expenses of living in London while a student. Those had been happy, carefree days. Now, he had the responsibility of running the family estate. Being the boss, there are only a few times in the year when he could get away for a few days. This was one of them. In ten days, the sheep shearing season would start. That would be two weeks of working dawn to dusk, even if it was chucking it down with rain. An idea started to form in his mind for the intervening period.

Downstairs, in the kitchen, Melissa was being made welcome like a long-lost relative coming back into the fold. She was a little taken aback by this welcome. They knew nothing about her, and as far as she knew, Jack had not called them to give them a heads-up about her arrival.

“You aren’t a Vegan or a Vegetarian, are you?” asked Moira.

“No, to both of them. If I was, would it be a problem?”

As soon as she asked the question, she felt awful.

“Not really, but we are farmers. We, or rather our tenants, raise Sheep and Beef here and down the valley near Leyburn, we have a chicken farm. All free-range birds and a few thousand turkeys for Christmas.”

“I think I understand. I saw some sheep out on the moor.”

Moira laughed.
“There are at least a couple of million of them on the uplands of England. They live almost all the year outside, and most of the time, they live off the land. We only feed them when the weather is bad and through the lambing season. The soil up there is very poor and unsuitable for growing crops. Down in the valley, it is mostly grass, which we use to feed the cattle in winter.”

“You have a much bigger operation than I thought.”

“And it is all run by John.

“John?”

Moira smiled.
“Sorry. It is a Scottish thing. Our son was christened John, but everyone but us calls him Jack. I’m from Perth in Scotland, by the way.”

Melissa had wondered about her accent.

“I didn’t know… about him running the whole thing.”

“John is very modest about that. He manages the estate and the Hotel. If any part of the business needs help, then he either does it himself or gets an expert in to help. In ten days or so, shearing will start. That is when all the tenant farmers come together and help out. Almost all the wool will go to a factory in Newcastle for use in building insulation.”

“Was that ‘helping’ why he was acting as receptionist at the ‘Bulls Head Hotel’?”

“Did he? I didn’t know, but that is just who he is.”

Melissa started to understand just how different Jack was from her former husband. He’d never volunteer for anything unless there was an angle in it for him or that he’d be owed a favour in return that could help his career.

“I was just glad that he came along when he did. I was thinking that I’d have to start walking.”

“I understand that you had a puncture. I got a heads up from Mrs Bishop just after you left their farm.”

“Yes. That’s correct.”

“Then it is just as well that John came along when he did, look outside.”

Melissa looked out of the kitchen window. The view down the garden was now obscured by heavy rain.

“I am thankful that he did.”

“Where were you going to stay tonight?”

“I had booked a place in Penrith. When I phoned the rental people, I called them and cancelled it. I had hoped to get back to York.”

“You seem to be doing a bit of a tour then?” said Moira as she rolled out some pastry that had been in the fridge.

“I’ve been to Rome, Venice, Paris and London. I am a country girl at heart, so I asked the concierge at the hotel in London where would be the best place to go in the country. He said the Yorkshire Dales. One train ride and a rental car later, I was at the Hotel that he had booked for me. On the train, I started to plan a few other places to visit before I fly home in just over a week.”

“And?” asked Moira as she finished putting the top on an apple pie.

“Eh?”

“Where is your cunning plan going to take you… Before the puncture, that is?”

“Cunning Plan?”

Moira chuckled as she dressed the top of the pie with some sugar.
“Sorry, a very British joke. It comes from a TV series. Where are you planning on going? North of the border, I hope?”

“Sorry… You lost me there?”

“Don’t worry your sweet heart. Back when we were posted to DC, I was always so careful with my language. I don’t mean to point a finger at you, but most of your countrymen and women have very little knowledge of world geography. The United Kingdom is made up of four countries. England, Wales, Northern Ireland and Scotland. I’m from Scotland. By ‘north of the border’, I mean into Scotland. Penrith is less than an hour from the border near Gretna Green.”

Melissa smiled as Moira put the pie into the oven.

“We have thirty-five minutes to wait for the pie to cook.”

“It smells great.”

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells. I’ve used a new recipe. It was given to me by one of our tenants. Her daughter is away at catering college.”

“To answer your question, I had planned on going to Edinburgh, but beyond that, I don’t know.”

Moira stopped and looked at her guest.

“Forgive me if what I am about to say is a bit direct, but people in this part of the world are known for not dodging around the subject. Why don’t you let John give you a tour of some of the more interesting things this wonderful country has to offer? He hasn’t been farther away from the Dales than the market in Northallerton since before COVID hit.”

“I could not impose on him like that. It is not fair.”

“Then we’ll just have to use our feminine cunning then?”

Melissa smiled.

“Moira, you are so different from the people I’ve been around for years. I kinda like your directness.”

“Then you are up for it then?”

“How could I say no when there is the prospect of such a feast in store?”

Moira wiped the grin off her face.
“The wives of most of the government people we dealt with in DC were afraid to eat a thing in case they put on a few ounces. To them, their image was just as important as their husband’s voting record. Am I right in assuming that you are not like that?”

“I know just what you mean. I was, until recently, a stay-at-home in the district wife of a congressman. He got caught with his pants down, so to speak.”

“I wondered if your trip to Europe on your own was something like that. You keep fingering your ring finger, and the tan lines have not yet faded. A lot of women in similar positions as yourself take a trip just to get the smell of their ex off their skin after often messy divorces. I know of the partners of at least five senators who did just that during our twelve years in DC.”

“Guilty, I’m afraid. He cheated and got caught. Thankfully, our divorce was not messy. He lied to me for years and kept lots of secrets from me. It will take me a long time to trust a man again.”

“Then John needs to know that he is just a friend and nothing more,” said Moira.

“I know that he is a kind person, but I hardly know him from Adam.”

Moira smiled.
“Adam lives a mile down the road.”

It took Melissa a second to realise that her leg was being pulled.

“I’ll make sure that his father has a word with him.”

“I haven’t said that I’ll do it yet?”

“That, my dear, is down to you, but our immediate task is to get washed and changed for dinner. Then we let John bring up the subject and make him think that it was all his own idea.”

Melissa smiled.
“Are you sure that you are not a politician? You could run rings around most of those in DC.”

“I know that from our time there. Some of them are total goofballs. The career civil servants are the smart ones who keep the place running. Most Politicians just live for the next opportunity to get in front of a camera to raise money or get a new donor. Screen time is what it is all about for many of them. The more screen time they get, the more money that they can raise for their next election campaign…”

Then Moira shook her head,
“Sorry, you didn’t need to hear my rather jaded view of your government.”

“Moira, your description could have described my former husband perfectly. He was so vain that he made notes of what suit he was wearing for what TV appearance. He’d get a new one if he felt that he’d been seen too often wearing the same one. I like your rather direct way of speaking. The DC wives would never dare talk like that in case their words were overheard, and it got back to their other half.”

Moira headed for the kitchen door. She held it open for her guest.
“Let me show you your room. Dinner is at six thirty.”

Once she was in her room, Melissa sat on her bed and wondered about going off with a man that she hardly knew. Before… before her divorce and despite what she’d vowed on the flight to Rome, it was very tempting. She had a strange feeling about the place she’d ended up in. It just… just felt comfortable and non-threatening.

On the surface, these people were just being themselves and not out to make a few bucks at the expense of others and to hell with the consequences. That slightly unnerved her. It was a first for her on this trip.

Thanks to Moira’s gentle persuasion, she resolved to go with the flow and enjoy being shown some of the less touristy sites. She’d had enough of parties of aged citizens from various countries being shepherded around the major tourist attractions like they were cattle.

Melissa relaxed on her bed and fell asleep. It was only the gentle ringing of a gong that woke her. Whilst she had only been asleep for a little over an hour, she felt more relaxed and awake than before that fateful email had arrived.

[to be continued]