Interrupted Journey

Chapter 7 - Farm Store

I was up early again the next morning. I would have thought that, by now, I would have got used to these early starts but it didn't seem to be working like that.

Once again, we hurriedly ate our breakfast by candle light then Mike, Jimbo and I piled into the van. We had decided that there was no benefit in using the bikes this time. We knew where we were going and we were counting on there not being anyone else there. It was not an obvious target for people scavenging for food.

There was a chilly mist hanging over the valley as we set off that was occasionally thickening into scraps of patchy rain - really unpleasant weather but it suited our purposes; nobody else would want to be out on a morning like this.

Mike had worked out a route that avoided Grasswell, using a couple of tiny back lanes but, nevertheless, we were on the New Road within fifteen minutes and thirty minutes later, we were on the Amberford ring road. The store was just north of the culvert where we had loaded the Land Rover... was it only five days ago? Mike's timing was perfect - there was just enough light for him to drive by but nobody would be able to spot the van from any distance.

While I knew that there was no chance of meeting other vehicles, I was still disconcerted when Mike turned the wrong way at a roundabout and started heading down the wrong side of the ring road. It made sense - it was much shorter than following the one-way system and the less time we spent driving around town the better.

Mike drove into the car park and parked neatly in one of the disabled bays, close to the entrance. I was puzzled by this for a moment but then realised that if he had parked straight in front of the doors, it might have attracted unwanted attention. While Jimbo casually broke in, Mike went to keep watch; he climbed up onto a pallet of sacks which were still on a stalled forklift in the middle of the car park. 

The place was a treasure trove. In addition to the seeds, fertiliser, sheep food and veterinary supplies that Alice had ordered, we found heavy duty outdoor clothing and boots; first aid supplies and reels of barbed wire and posts to beef up the security round the valley, together with the armoured gloves you needed to handle them. Jimbo secured several boxes of chocolate bars from behind the counter.

He also liberated a trailer from a vehicle in the car park and then started performing his packing miracle. "No whisky, this time," I said as he crammed a final bag of heavy wooden jumpers into a corner of the trailer.

"I'm sure we can find you a bottle of horse liniment if you're desperate," he replied, with a grin.

I went to retrieve Mike from his observation post but as he jumped down, I started to swear.

"What's up?" he asked.

I pointed out that he had been sitting on a mountain of oats. It was marked as, 'Animal feed; not for human consumption,' but, if you were hungry, you wouldn't refuse a bowl of animal feed porridge.

"We need that," I said.

"We're not going to get it all in this time," he replied. "Let's see what we can fit in."

We managed to cram in six of the sacks. Four balanced precariously on top of the barbed wire reels in the trailer and two in the passenger footwell. It would mean a cramped trip back for Jimbo and me but we could live with that.

The trip back was uneventful and, while James and some of the others unloaded the van, we held a quick council of war over cups of tea in the kitchen.

I briefly explained the situation then said, "Those sacks of oats will solve our food problems for the rest of the year but trying to collect them is going to be risky. Mike, what's your guess, how risky?"