Free Last Train to Gloryhole by Keith Price

‘Aye, they should always keep their pull-up windows shut, if you ask me, girl. I know for sure that the guy who brings my weed across it is never unarmed, and always keeps a steak-knife in his glove-compartment.’
    ‘Eh? But I thought they used a grinder,’ Rhiannon retorted, scrunching up her nose with bewilderment.
    ‘Not for the drugs, babe,’ Chris responded. ‘Not for the weed. No, for the - in case they pass a stray cow on the carriageway, you know? And they fancy a quick sirloin-and-chips.’
    ‘Stop it, Chris!’ screamed Rhiannon, slapping him on the back. ‘You know very well how much I adore cows.’
    ‘I know, I know - you said your great-grandad was a farmer once,’ Chris replied, grasping her swinging hand to save himself from more pain. ‘I love them too, you know. Oh yes, I think they’re delicious.’ He ducked again, then raised his head aloft. ‘Rhiannon - can I ask you something?’ he asked her.
    ‘About cows? ‘Course you can,’ she said. ‘I know all about them - their colours, their lactation, their breeding, everything.’
    ‘Their breeding? Oh, good,’ replied Chris. ‘Tell me, babe - if your cow was Friesan, would you get her a Jersey?’
    ‘Well, that would depend on a number of things,’ she told him, visualizing in her mind’s eye a large brown bull she had once seen her grandfather releasing into a field for the sole purpose.
    ‘If they made them that big, I mean,’ added Chris, pouting his lips to stop himself from breaking out giggling. ‘Jerseys, I mean. A polo-neck would look good, don’t you think?’ Unable to help himself, Chris started laughing, but this time he made sure he pinned back Rhiannon’s arms to prevent her from retaliating. ‘You know, I believe that’s why I love you so much, babe.’
    ‘You mean because I love cows?’ asked Rhiannon, smiling, and suddenly embracing him.
    ‘Yes, that’s probably it,’ he replied, grinning. ‘Because, if people don’t love them then I dare say they could all die out before long, couldn’t they?’ He rolled his shirt-sleeves a little higher.
    ‘Why? Are they endangered, then?’ she asked, more than a little perturbed by his comment.
    ‘What? You mean you didn’t know that?’ Chris enquired, feigning horror. ‘I’m very surprised, Rhiannon, especially as you seem to know so much about them.’
    Rhiannon was seventeen, the same age as Chris was, but, because she had failed dreadfully in her GCSE examinations, she had been persuaded to re-take them all, and had elected to leave Chris’s class and year, and move back to join the Year-Eleven class below her, whose students were therefore a year younger than she was.
    Chris embraced his red-haired lover and drew her with him towards the open gate across from his home, and then down the short path that led to the deserted station-halt. There, turning smartly through a semi-circle, and ambling arm-in-arm past the north side of his home, Chris walked Rhiannon eastwards onto, then across, the lofty viaduct. As they slowly proceeded, he decided to tell her a bit more about the subject which seemed to fascinate her so much.
    ‘Listen, Rhiannon,’ said Chris, ‘three of the most endangered species living in Britain today happen to be cows, and - and pandas, oh - and dinosaurs. You know, I nearly forgot those altogether.’ As the sudden breeze that swept up the valley sent strands of his long black hair all about his face, Chris suddenly lost interest in his teasing tale. ‘Say, have you got any crisps left?’ he asked her. ‘I’m starving, and I don’t plan on going in for a while, yet. How about you?’
    ‘I’m not eating today, I’ve decided,’ Rhiannon told him firmly, taking a small packet from her pocket and handing it over to him. ‘Chris, do you mean - do you mean you aren’t going to go home at all tonight?’
    ‘No, you see I don’t see any reason to.’ he replied, taking his fiery-headed girl’s slim, pale hand firmly in his own,