"The wine must be pretty strong", muttered Sarah, apologetically. "Not if you've been brought up on it - from suckling to stripling." He chuckled merrily as he lifted her off her feet and carried her unable to protest up some stairs to a room that contained a huge construction of sacking and brightly coloured rags draped over a framework of roped together branches.

"What on earth is that thing", exclaimed Sarah dreamily as he placed her gently onto a comfortable old leather couch.

"Don't you worry about him", said Ralph. "He's the Hobbyhorse."

"What's on earth is a Hobbyhorse?" Sarah struggled to a sitting position to get a better look at Ralph and also the Hobbyhorse thing.

"It goes around the local towns on May Day and at various other times. It represents fertility and has it's own tune that follows it around town. Local youngsters chase it and pull faces at it and in return the Hobby Horse lashes them with its' tail.

"Ask a silly question", mumbled Sarah. "Well I for one don't want any more fertility - I've already got two children of my own." A good thing to get that straight", she thought.

Ralph was sitting at the other end of the couch looking attentive but unconcerned at this news. Dimly Sarah realised that, if his aim was to seduce her, he would have made his move by now. Instead he was quite simply sitting there patiently waiting for her to feel better.

"The concept of fertility isn't just about procreation", Ralph said with a smile. "It's also about having a fertile mind, imagination and the growth of the spirit."

"Do you really believe that?" She was beginning to feel a bit better.

Ralph cocked his head towards downstairs. "Listen to the sounds down there. Folk music stresses the upbeat and that's why it makes everybody smile. Dancing helps the body feel alive and the blood flow more freely whatever your age. When we go around the circle and sing and play with our friends we are all reborn a little."

"The dancing just knocked me out", said Sarah ruefully.

"That's probably because you have worries", responded Ralph cocking his head philosophically. "Beth told me that you could perhaps do with some help."

"And what help would you be able to offer and, more to the point, what's in it for you?" Sarah realised with dismay that the way she had responded to his offer of help may have sounded abrupt and condescending.

"Sometimes a willingness to listen or even provide a different perspective is enough", said Ralph gently, he seemed not at all offended by her outburst.

Sarah relented a little. "I'll bear it in mind", she said. "Thanks for the offer.

"You can contact me on this number", said Ralph, handing her his card.

"Ralph Rathsome, Renton Manor", she queried. "You're not aristocracy are you?"

"Aristocracy but not aristocratic", was his cheerful reply as Peter came in through the door stopping suddenly as he took in the scene of them together.

"If I could disturb you two for a moment", he said acidly, "they are asking whether you want to give them another song downstairs Sarah."

"I'm not feeling too well just at the moment - strong wine it seems. Ralph helped me off the floor and brought me here to recover. He's been an absolute gentleman"

Peter didn't look entirely convinced.

"I'll tell them you're not yet up to it, shall I", said Ralph, making his escape to the door. Sarah heard him tramp down the wooden stairs and then the shriek of ribald comments about goings on upstairs when he entered the main room. Sarah with some difficulty focussed her eyes on Peter.