The harvest was over, the back-breaking work had ended at last. Gabriel looked up at the clouds gathering above the farm, the signs were not good. They still needed to cover the hay before the rain came, but from inside the house, the unmistakable sounds of the party reached him, already in full swing. He didn't feel like celebrating, but he knew he would have to show his face.

As he entered the room, he saw Troy kissing Bathsheba, gripping her to him in an overly flamboyant way as if to say, "look everyone, your mistress is mine!" Gabriel turned away, his hands in fists, to be accosted by two local girls, he did not know their names, who talked excitedly to him for several minutes. He looked across at Bathsheba who was watching him, a smile on her face as if she was happy for him to have admirers. Perhaps she thought that now she was married he too would fall in love with the first pretty maid that came along and get married. He hardly paid attention to what they said, conscious only of Bathsheba across the room as she talked animatedly to the lady next to her.

He sat down to dinner, looking distractedly out of the window at the darkening sky. In a lull in the conversation, Gabriel warned the party that there was a storm coming. Troy interrupted him, laughing at his suggestion.

"There will be no rain tonight," he said, "I will not allow it"

Troy was obviously drunk, his face red and his eyes unfocused. Gabriel wanted to retort that Troy would be no use to him anyway, but he carried on eating, noting Bathsheba's look of dismay and her worried glance towards the window.

"Come," Troy exclaimed, holding his tankard aloft and spilling his drink, "we will have more wine and spirits, more ale and more dancing. I insist upon it."

The servants hurried away and for a moment Bathsheba looked like she might try to stop them, but she did not. In the corner, the music started up again, a well-known reel. Troy clapped his hands, like a child.

"Come my love," he said, stumbling to his feet and holding his hand out to Bathsheba. "Dance with me."

"Please Frank," she said, obviously embarrassed. "Maybe we should do as Gabriel suggests?"

Troy laughed, a hollow, cruel sound that made something tighten in Gabriel's chest.

"Am I not your master? Come, I say, dance with me, and bring ale, lots of it!"

"Please Frank - -"

A shadow passed over Troy's face as he looked at her with unconcealed anger.

"Very well then, take yourself away women and take the rest of the women with you. I do not need you here, I will make merry without you."

Bathsheba looked shocked, but she tried to hide it. As she rose to her feet, gesturing for the women to join her, Gabriel also stood, unable to stay there a moment longer. Troy was practically sneering at him as he held out his tankard to be filled with more spirits. Gabriel walked to the door without looking back.

Outside it was starting to rain. He ran to the barn to get the canvas to cover the hay, but he already knew how futile it would be to try to do it alone. He dragged the ladder across as the rain hit him full force in the face as he struggled with the sheet of canvas as it was buffeted by the wind. He climbed to the top and began to methodically tie the sheets across, a very slow difficult process by himself as the music filtered out from the house as if to mock him.

"Gabriel!"

It was Bathsheba, climbing up the ladder to help him. As she reached the top, she almost lost her balance and he held her hands, steadying her. She laughed, her hair whirling about her face, the rain soaking them both. In that moment, he felt that she recognised their connection, their companionship, as her hands gripped his and she stared back into his eyes.

"Gabriel," she said again, almost in wonderment.

"Help me," he said simply.

Together they began to tie the canvas onto the bales and little by little as the hours past, they succeeded in covering them all. Eventually, exhausted and soaked through Gabriel helped Bathsheba down from the ladder and they stood for a moment surveying their work. Bathsheba's hair was plastered to the sides of her face and the front of her dress was drenched. In the dim light, beneath the shelter of the barn, she suddenly turned to him and said,

"Oh Gabriel, I've been such a fool."

How could he answer her? She stood so close to him, almost touching. She was married and was tied to Troy. Why couldn't she have seen past Troy's bravado and seen his true nature before now, before it was too late?

"You have been loyal Gabriel, you are my one true friend."