The Peaceful Belly Kitchen
Instalment 4 - 3 minute read
You can find instalment 3 here.
I have edited instalment 3 and it now reads much more fluently, my use of commas needed adjusting! You may want to re-read that instalment before this one, it is three and a half minutes long.
If you are new to this story, you will need to read all the instalments to make sense of it, as there are different streams of stories and years that will all come together by the end.
The Peaceful Belly Kitchen
Instalment 4
8 minute read
There are two ways to reach the lane that leads to the falling down trees wood. One is through a village and across a field that leads down into a valley, where that little lane I mentioned winds its way, this way and that. It’s where you find the style not far from the bus stop, that takes you into the falling down trees wood. The other way is through a cemetery which can be found further down the lane and along a dirt track. Whichever entrance people use once inside the wood they sometimes got lost, even though it was quite small. There is a sparse hedgerow running along part of one edge and on some occasions, people stumble out of the wood through this, into the field where the Peaceful Belly Kitchen has been built, on the remains of an old barn crumbling into the ground.
The owner bought the land for a good price because the only access to the field was through the falling down tree wood. Perhaps other people at the time, who saw that this field and the old ruined barn were for sale, wanted road access; that just wasn’t possible with this piece of land. For the owner of the Peaceful Belly Kitchen however, that didn’t matter, in fact it was part of the pull to buy the land. The owner had had a dream and a certain amount of money and, it just happened to be the right amount of money. Magic, was in the air. Good things were going to come into being.
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Year 2016
Elsie and her sons followed Archie through a field that had poppies and cornflowers scattered throughout it. Archie was walking quickly because he was wishing he wasn’t there, the last thing he needed right now was two kids with attitude. The woman was quite nice but really, he’d expected more from this Airbnb experience he was offering, more than a woman with two grumpy kids. He couldn’t understand why it wasn’t taking off.
Elsie’s sons were happier now they were on the move, and the prospect of ice cream had definitely improved matters, but really why did their mum insist on taking them on excursions when they were perfectly happy playing at home on the computer. Computer, not phone, they were not allowed phones yet; big eye roll.
Elsie was loving the poppy and cornflower field, feeling proud that she had whisked her sons away from computers and was giving them healthy air, nature and all the good things of life, but really this tour guide, he needed to get a grip.
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People visited the Peaceful Belly Kitchen for the sheer joy of it. When Pierre purchased the land in 2003 it hadn’t been with the intention of setting up a cafe, he simply wanted to cook. Then people started to appear. It was a surprise to him and he found to his astonishment, that he liked sharing what was becoming; the joy of his life.
He loved watching how good food lifted people and the warmth that came from that. And that warmth, Pierre could feel it in his bones. Pierre; had found happiness. And that happiness, well he didn’t feel disassociated from it. It wasn’t a feeling somewhere in the distance that he was trying to put a name to. No, it was alive inside him, running through his blood, along his veins, from the soles of his feet all the way up to the top of his head. On a cold bleak day people arrived, often with hard stories chiselled into their features, but as the food came out and was passed around those faces; well we’ll find out more about that further on.
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Year 2002
After the black crow passed beyond Pierre’s vision, he started wondering where those streams went to. He got up off the trunk, picked up his shoes and began wading through the cool gurgling water, across pebbles and sometimes sharp stones, “ouch” he said, not really minding. Pierre was enjoying the peace, the cool water on a hot summers day, the trees; and being able to please himself.
The streams meandered this way and that, and so did Pierre. After a while the streams disappeared from view through thick undergrowth. Pierre took a detour to the right through more trees and bracken and a few brambles, trampling the carpet of wild garlic, the air heavy again with that pungent oniony smell. Soon Pierre realised he was quite lost, and was just about to sit down on a tree stump when he heard a bird! It was a wood pecker and he thought he would follow the sound. But after a minute or two the sound stopped. Silence again thought Pierre, and realised that he seemed to be walking in circles. The calmness and freedom he had been feeling had left him. It’s like that with emotions isn’t it, one moment you’re feeling fine, doing really well and then wham, you’re not. Well Pierre started to have one of those moments. Everything had become silent and confused, his surroundings and his thoughts. He wasn’t sure which way to go and the sun was going down.
How was that possible he thought, surely he hadn’t been walking for that long. But he had. Lost in thoughts, and in no thought, his body just marching around and around through wild things; away from all the memories he didn’t want to remember that we’re building like a tsunami in his mind. He seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown when suddenly, right there, standing not more than 4 feet in front of him, was the biggest deer he had ever seen, with antlers. It was huge. The deer stared at Pierre. Pierre stared at the deer. He felt held by the stare of that deer, and for a moment time stood still, and all the feelings that had been brimming their way to the surface of his mind like a collection of matted brillo pads, just stopped. Suspended, in time.
In truth, Pierre had never met a deer with antlers, ever. He was a towny, always had been. He liked coffee shops and book shops, wandering in the rain on tarmac where traffic lights reflected red green and yellow on the rain spattered roads, on early evening autumn nights. He found that time of year cosy, particularly when the day was turning into night, with all the lights coming on in all the windows. Early autumn rain pouring down with buses and cars swooshing past spraying unbeknown passersby with water, that had gathered around blocked drains; including himself. He loved the sloshing of people on pavements too, as they splashed their way to cosy homes, while the guttering of old buildings continued to overflow, pouring rainwater onto the ground.
Autumn, had always been Pierre’s favourite time of year in the city. It didn’t seem to expect too much of him. And on the way home through the city streets, on rare evenings when he got to walk home, leaving work early enough to catch sight of all the people rushing out of work at a normal hour; he enjoyed staring at the autumn leaves of copper and gold that had collected in piles under trees along the pavement, and the ones that looked like squashed lemons; all of them shining in the rain. He walked through the city streets taking it all this in, the leaves, the rain, the people, wet roads and pavements, busses, cars, bicycles and motorcycles, delivery boxes on their ends and helmets on their riders heads, the traffic lights flashing colour. And then he was home, stepping over the threshold into a script that had been written for him, words that he had memorised so very well. It was a warm home, filled with beautiful things, and he had everything he could possibly wish for. But he was on the outside of it.
The deer and Pierre continued to stare at each other for what seemed like hours but was in fact just a few moments. The wood was as quiet as quiet could be. Until, a twig cracked and a rabbit came bounding through and that deer shot off at such speed, with Pierre left standing alone, once again. Bare feet noticing the temperature of the soil was cooler now, as this summers day came quietly to an end. Pierre’s eyes noticing the sun had gone down now. Soon it would be dark.
Pierre was a towny. He was lost, darkness was arriving quickly now. What to do.
To be continued…