A/N: Thank you to everyone for your kind comments and reviews for the last chapter, and as usual special thanks to Flossy for her unending support. I do hope that everyone enjoys this further slice of life at The Barn

It was perfect weather for a funeral.

It was dismal, with persistent rain and was getting cold as the dark closed in, but the self-appointed funeral director had been aghast at the suggestion that they should wait till the next day. The broken-hearted weeping had lasted until her dad had given in and she'd set about organising them, had chased them all, including the dog, into a line by the gaping hole Charles had dug under the trees at the back of the garden. He'd been cursing loudly at the choice of location from the moment he'd started, in spite of the rain dripping steadily down his neck the ground was rock hard, it was like digging a pit in solid concrete and despite the cold he was sweating buckets. But he knew he should have thought about it a bit more because it was far too late to move the burial plot somewhere else, it was the penance he had to pay for giving the chief mourner the freedom to choose where the final resting place was going to be. And the hole had to be cavernous, the last thing he wanted was for Patches to dig the bloody thing up and eat it.

Millie had dissolved into a distraught tear-sodden heap on the drive when they'd got home from school and found Marge with her feet turned up. By contrast Marcus had shown very little emotion, had been poker faced but very pale as if he was about to throw up, his big brown eyes swimming in the tears he was desperately trying not to cry. Marge was his pride and joy and although he didn't say a word, Molly's heart had bled for him, as usual her lovely sensitive little boy was doing all he could not to burst into tears in front of his dad. Until Marge had selfishly dropped dead without giving them any warning, it hadn't even occurred to Molly to worry about them popping their clogs. Obviously she wished it had been different now, she should have prepared him because it was a fact of life that animals die but she just hadn't. It wasn't like she'd thought the bloody things were going to live forever or anything like that, it was just she'd got no idea how old they were, hadn't given it a thought, or about how long chickens live for that matter. Not a lot of call for knowing that sort of thing in east Ham.

Millie was in absolute floods of tears and snot as she demanded through loud sobs that Charles had to take Marge to the vet to make her better, but he just shook his head gently before he knelt down to her level and held the tops of her arms, and refused point blank to do anything of the sort. He produced a tissue and gently wiped her face, mainly to stop her wiping her nose on her school coat and explained patiently that it was far too late. That Marge was dead. Which provoked a fresh flood of anguished wailing.

Molly's arm was round Marcus shoulders as she quickly waded in to say he could rescue some new ones, and give them a really nice home and a really good life like he'd given Marge and her mates, but Marcus just looked at her without speaking leaving her feeling that she hadn't exactly been tactful. She really hadn't meant to make it sound like she thought it was easy to just nip out and get a new one, a replacement if you like, a bit of off with the old and all that. And there was this horrible sinking feeling in her guts that she was going to be back to nit dusting chicken bums. Over Christmas. As if she hadn't got enough to do already. She could only hope they weren't going to have to have a separate shed because of quarantine or whatever.

Chloe had been watching the drama unfold in silence before adopting a tragic demeanour and sticking her hands theatrically on her hips, declaring dramatically that it didn't matter what anyone said she was not going to eat Marge. That she'd rather starve to death. The thought of eating her hadn't even occurred to Molly, it would be like eating someone she knew, but putting the idea in Millie's head was just asking for it.

"EAT her? We're not going to eat her are we Daddy?"

Millie's voice had gone up several notches as she turned horrified eyes in Charles' direction, she obviously thought her mother was more likely to be some sort of chicken cannibal "That's Marge Daddy … and we can't eat her … we can't EAT Marge"

"No of course not Button, don't worry, I'll …um … I'll bury her"

His first instinct had been to be all reassuring and tell her that he'd see to it and to then get rid of the body but quickly realised that wrapping her in newspaper and chucking the body in the dustbin wasn't going to be an acceptable finale for Marge.

"Tell you what Button … you and Marcus can choose and then tell me where you want me to dig the hole and Mummy will find you a box for us to bury her in …"

"Makes no difference to me … don't care" Marcus was still worryingly pale, his voice barely audible as he muttered truculently and stared down at the floor. Molly could see that he was anxious to get away, that he'd probably go and have a good bawl in private and ached for him. Over recent weeks he seemed to have got hold of the idea that Charles would be annoyed or something if he showed he was upset, although Molly had got no idea where it had come from. She'd never once heard Charles get even the tiniest bit brisk and Bossman with him over anything, not like all those years ago with Sam, and definitely never because he was upset. Up till now she'd been ignoring it, hoping it would be least said soonest mended and go away, but she was beginning to wonder if she should ask him what was wrong.

"Okay … well … if you're sure … in that case Button you choose and I'll dig the hole and then we can all say a nice goodbye to her … and tomorrow I'll find some wood and make a little cross … put her name on it"

Livvie had been steadily grizzling with the sort of resigned miserable whinging that got on Molly's last nerve, but the baby was obviously thoroughly pissed off with them standing around outside in the rain and wanted her tea and both Chloe and Marcus had begun asking plaintively when they were going to be allowed to go indoors. They were both muttering about freezing to death and getting wet when suddenly, as she was putting the key in the lock, Molly found herself struggling with the most horrendous attack of the giggles. None of it at all was in any way shape or form funny. It was all so bloody macabre and she had no idea why she had this sudden desperate need to laugh but was afraid she was going to have to go and hide her face in the loo. Well at least until she could control herself long enough to take her new ankle boots out the box they'd come in anyway, because the only other thing she could think of that was big enough was an old cardboard box with a missing lid from Tesco and that wasn't going to cut it as a coffin.

-OG-

"Hello God … this is Marge … in the box… I s'pect you know she's one of my bruvver's chickens …"

Millie had adopted a suitably funereally solemn expression on her face as she clasped her hands together as if she was saying a prayer, and despite Molly's warning about him getting wet, she had Mr Fuggley poking out the top of her school back pack. She'd insisted they had to put an old woolly to line the bottom of the coffin boot box because she didn't want Marge to get cold which had made Charles bite his bottom lip as he tried not to laugh. He'd hastily looked away before quietly asking Molly if she was sure Millie knew what dead meant, earning himself a hard kick on the shins, she was having a hard enough job keeping a straight face as it was.

"I don't know if you know this God, but she had batt'ries before she lived wiv us and her fevvers were all gone … and then my Mummy made them come back … but my Daddy said it was my bruvver Marcus who really made her get all better … and my Daddy said she wasn't catched by the fox, and that it wasn't Patches" She shook her head solemnly and then obviously thought she needed to explain what she'd said "He's our dog … and my Daddy said he was sure it didn't hurt her when she died, that she was prob'ly just a bit old"

Charles had actually said something flippant about Marge probably being a pensioner like her namesake, which had earned him a filthy look from Molly.

"Your medal in the post is it?"

"Indeed … even as we speak … are you jealous?"

"Course …"

"We're going to sing now …"Millie raised tragic eyes to Charles who was torn between pissing himself and becoming a bit emotional at how sweet she was standing there with one of his black socks tied round the top of her arm and the other one tucked into Patches' collar. Her colouring might be all him, with her dark curly hair and brown eyes, but she was so like her mother standing there with her eyes swimming in tears, he'd had given her the earth "And please God could you tell Mummy's friend Smurf that Marge is there … so he can help you look after her …"

"He always was partial to a bit of chicken … roast potatoes, sage and onion …"

"Shut up … she'll 'ear you"

"And please … could you make sure that Marge is happy and Ihat she's got somewhere nice to sleep … fank you God"

The only hymn she could remember was "Away in a Manger" so she launched them into a very ropy rendition of all three verses, as Charles hid his face and started shovelling lumps of wet clay over the box. Livvie had been wriggling around on Molly's hip fed up with the whole thing and now kept pitching herself forward, demanding to be allowed to get down, and obviously not a million miles away from yelling blue bloody murder. She totally failed to appreciate the solemnity of the occasion. When the singing finished, or in Molly's case the la-la ing, Millie stood in silence watching Charles fill in the hole before bowing her head. What she'd really wanted was for everyone in turn to throw a handful of mud on top of the box before Charles filled in the hole, like they did on television, but no-one would do it, the ground was sopping wet and the mud he'd piled up next to the hole was now revoltingly oozy.

-OG-

"Knew them tools you bought would come in 'andy one day … I thought one of them fancy jobs … you know, one of them Celtic Cross things?"

"Fuck off …" He snorted "I can't imagine where she gets it from" There was laughter and not a small amount of indulgent pride in his voice.

"Don't look at me … she don't get it from me … 'n you encourage 'er"

"Must be me then … and I know I do …" He laughed "I can't help it, she's so like you … and she was so fucking serious and so sweet … and where did she get all that stuff about Smurf?"

"Dunno …. 'n she's not like me, not a bit … she's a bossy little mare"

"Wonder where she gets that from?"

"That's from you 'n all … been a bit of a day asn't it? Dunno 'bout you, but I'm cream crackered …"

"Indeed …" Charles snorted a laugh and then put his head back and closed his eyes.

Molly half closed hers and squinted at the tree he'd bought inside for them to decorate in what had turned out to be a successful attempt to lighten the gloomy mood. Even Millie had forgotten all about the tragedy as the three of them had put every single ornament they had on the lower branches of the tree which meant it was decidedly lop sided and bottom heavy. It was going to need a trip to the garden centre to get some more to even it out. Even Molly could see it was a bit what his mum would call a dog's breakfast, not that she'd actually come out and say something so common to the kids, but she had this way of looking down her nose that spoke volumes. But then she always decorated the house in Bath to a theme, a beautifully tasteful colour scheme throughout which she changed every year, she'd never do anything so casual as letting the kids chuck everything on it in a haphazard way. Squinting at it Molly could see it could probably do with another string of lights as well, the ones they had looked a bit sparse, especially at the top. Still it didn't stop it being cosy with the fire alight and just the lights on the tree and the rain hammering against the window, even the dog snoring in front of the fire and farting in his sleep didn't spoil it.

"Is Marcus okay? He was very quiet …and he wouldn't tell me …"

"Yeah … listen …" It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him about being worried why Marcus was acting a bit weird, whether he knew what was going on, but suddenly changed her mind about saying anything. He'd got enough on his plate to worry about without her adding anything else. And it was only what she'd been thinking, she'd got no proof, it was probably best for her to do what she'd told herself and talk to Marcus first, ask him what was bothering him.

"Last night … not sure now whether I told you I love you"

"I think you might have done …" He smirked "And don't worry about it Moll … last night I was a bit tired … it's all going to be alright …"

"Course it is … I know that" It was obvious that old habits die very hard with him and he was regretting opening his trap and telling her all that "But … I wanna say … just do whatever it is you think's best, tell 'em to stuff it if that's you want … if we 'ave to we'll live in a bleeding tent … you don't 'ave to carry on doing that poxy job if you hate it" Fabulous, what the fuck could she hear herself saying, that they could be like her dad and live on benefits?

"God I love you … and it'd have to be a very big tent …or we can always go and live in Bath … the house is big enough …"

"What? For me and your mother? Lovely" She made a big production out of swallowing hard and then grinned "Remember no-one is gonna believe that you had the serious hots for that little scrubber, for that AVERAGE LITTLE TART, I mean why would you? She's nothing special …everyone knows that, 'n that's what's pissing her off …" Molly giggled happily re-writing history, she'd believed it hadn't she?

"Have I told you that I love you?" He laughed.

"'ere how about we sell this place and go and live at the arse end of wherever like that couple on tele, I could get used to the trees … in Yorkshire or wherever it is … the one where she looks like a supermodel and he's a lot older than 'er … they got about a hundred kids …"

"Lovely … but the thing is Moll, the people you're talking about are sheep farmers … I think she's a shepherd … and we know fuck all about sheep … not sure I even know one end from the other … except for liking mint sauce with it …"

"Whatever you do, don't tell Millie you eat dead baby sheep … 'n we can learn how to be farmers, can't we?"

"Yup … I can see you now with your hand up a sheep's bum …" He sniggered loudly "And I'm pretty bloody sure there's no Starbucks or Sky … not too sure about the phone reception … "

"Smartass … and stop bleeding laughing will you? I'm being serious 'ere …"

"I know you are … maybe keep it as a last resort … come and sit down"

He leaned across and patted the sofa at the opposite end to where he was leaning back in the corner with one arm along the back cushions and one leg curled up on the seat. He lifted her feet onto his lap as soon as she parked her bum and Molly wriggled her toes against his leg as he massaged her feet and then giggled as she watched the expression on his face change.

"I've had better galley slaves you know …" She giggled still watching his face as she poked a gentle toe in his groin "Ones that get me glasses of wine"

"I'll bet you have … don't go anywhere …"

He bought the wine and two glasses and then sat down to pour it, before raising his eyebrows at her and handing her a glass, and then leered and patted his lap.

"Come and sir here"

"Nah … why?" Molly was giggling as he took the glass back out of her hand and pulled her towards him along the sofa "Oi …give that back to me"

"That's better …" He settled her on his lap and gave her back the wine "This morning … after you woke me up demanding more sex …"

"Don't start that again … think your memory's going mate, that was you, not me"

"Shut up and listen … this morning before Millie so kindly joined us, I was thinking and I was just about to say to you that … " He smoothed her hair back and then bunched it up in his hand "I was going to say, to tell you … ask you really … whether it would really be the end of the bloody world if … look, this waiting out feels a bit like shutting the stable door after the horse has already pissed off …"

"You calling me an 'orse?"

"Yup … a very, very beautiful one and a very sexy one"

"You're not too shabby yourself … 'ere 'ave you seen the bit of kit on them stallions? … Bet it makes her eyes water … "

"Molly…"

"What? …" She wasn't sure she wanted to have the discussion she was afraid he was trying to have "Don't worry …. there's no need for you to 'ave any penis envy… you'll do for me"

"Thank you … but I haven't got any penis envy, nor have I heard you complain, and I've got no idea why we're even discussing the sex lives of horses but are you going to shut up any time soon?"

"Yeah … sorry … was you bought it up …"

He just looked at her with the shut the fuck up look on his face that he was so bloody good at and then shook his head slowly.

"You know exactly what it is I'm trying to say…"

"Yeah I do, but you know, maybe not the end of the world, but near enough … four is enough … and you got five don't forget … I just don't think it's what I want right now"

"I'm not suggesting it is … I …I'm just pointing out that it wouldn't … necessarily be a total disaster … nor would it come as a complete shock if … what? In 2 or 3 week's time … if … if you were peeing on a stick and complaining that you can't have a drink"

"Don't say that … "

"Okay … I won't … but ignoring it is not going to make it go away"

"I know"

It went very quiet, the sort of silence that people describe as being able to hear a pin drop as Molly watched him shake his head and cluse his eyes. It was hard to explain, it was hard to even know where to start, it wasn't because it was, what did he call it, a total disaster? Except that it was, or it would be, but it wouldn't be a total shock either. She didn't even want to think about it, all that all over again was enough to make her fall to bits. She'd be back to being bored shitless, just spending her time waiting for him to come back from wherever he was and longing to talk to someone who was an adult. Someone who wouldn't give her lip and pretend they were deaf and hadn't heard her tell them to stop doing something. It wasn't so much falling again, although that was bad enough, another one in nappies, there was no way Livvie was going to be reliable, and having tits the size of watermelons again and having raging hormones all over the bloody shop all the time as well as all the rest, and that was if she was lucky. The thought of it all going to shit again was enough and if she was really lucky all that other bloody stuff, the pain and that with the cysts, and that was on top of having to tell people and watch them raise their eyebrows. She hadn't even asked the doctor about it, she'd only been to get her sodding pill that was all, and he'd insisted she had to wait for a bit, so this was all his sodding fault.

"Hey sorry … I didn't mean to upset you and you were right, it's been a bit of a day hasn't it?" He took a deep breath and obviously made a superhuman effort to talk about something else, to change the subject "Do we know who's here for Christmas yet?"

"Sort of …" Molly also made a real effort to concentrate on something else "Sam will be home day after Boxing Day, I did 'ope he'd be back for Christmas … but nah, and before you say anything, not just so's he can cook the bloody turkey neither, and … Quaseen is definite, but dunno 'bout Bashira, think she's waiting to see if she gets an invite to stop with this boy's parents …"

"Is there a chance?"

"Shouldn't think so … strict Muslim family … but if she does Quaseem will be gutted … I was gonna ask Jacs but she's already said she's got plans, didn't say what and you gotta talk to your mother, she told me she's prob'ly gonna be too busy interfering in other people's Christmasses to come and stick her oar in 'ere … "

"What? Mum said that?"

"Not exactly … words like that …. she said they're getting up a what did she call it, 'a task force' to make sure no-one goes without a visitor …"

"Sounds like a nice idea …"

"Yeah … but … your bloody mother?"

"Okay … you might have a point" He sniggered "What about dad?"

"Dunno … you'll 'ave to ask if he's allowed to come and play or if he's gotta go round spreading good cheer with her, only better watch it, she told me they was having trouble finding enough volunteers … that she couldn't believe how selfish people were, wanting to stop at home"

"Nope … not me … I don't care how much blackmail or anything else she tries … I am not doing it"

"You'll upset her …"

"She'll get over it"

"Me Nan says she'll be 'ere after Boxing as well, reckons she'll have had enough by then, will need a bit of a rest, a bit of peace and quiet …"

"What? She's coming here for peace and quiet? With our lot? Is she fucking insane?"

"Probably … but our Bels has moved back in with the kids and there's this new bloke Mum was telling me about so that'll all be a bit of a circus …. And there's all that stuff with Jade… are you listening to me?"

He'd run his hand up the skin of her back under her sweater and unclasped her bra and was now fondling her breasts and running his thumbs over her hardened nipples.

"Of course I am … I'm multi-tasking …" He was smirking as he put his hand down to adjust the bulge she could feel behind the zip of his jeans and shifted himself on the sofa before carefully lifting her off his lap and onto her feet "Come on … I think an early night, don't you?"

"Bit early innit?"

"I can always ravish you here"

"What? Ravish ne … what does that mean?"

"If Chloe wasn't still awake I'd show you … " He laughed and stood up "I don't want her coming down and taking notes …"

"She won't … she's prob'ly on that bleeding phone … must have been mad getting that for her … dunno what they find to talk 'bout all the time, they only saw each other at school …"

"Are you saying I can ravish you here?" He ignored what she was saying about Chloe's phone, it had been a bone of contention between them when he'd promised it to her for her birthday.

"Nah … just sayin', that's all … might gonna 'ave to check, you know, make sure who she's talking to"

"Indeed … you're right, we absolutely should … just not now … "

-OG-

All thoughts of checking Chloe's phone to see what she was doing and of shutting stable doors vanished almost as soon as he shut their bedroom door behind him and leaned his back against it, holding her tight and kissing her as if he couldn't get enough of her. The slow stripping off of each other's clothes suddenly seemed to be taking far too long as they separated to pull off the last of their own underwear and fall with their limbs entwined across the bed.

It was fast and it was furious and Molly forgot all her concerns and in fact forgot everything else as his relentless pounding rhythm quickly drove her to the edge of the wave of sensation that was steadily building in her pelvis. And then she was holding her breath on the brink, was concentrating every bit of effort until the waves of intense pleasure began to crash through her and he kissed her hard muffling her cry of pleasure. And then buried his head in the crook of her neck to stifle his own shout as his own explosion of pleasure wracked him.

-OG-