But while everything was so perfect with the family they had, try as they might Albert and Sarah were unable to have another child. They could conceive without too much trouble, but Sarah was emotionally crippled by series of miscarriages. With each passing pregnancy the pain of loss grew heavier, as though they were accumulating in weight until her mind could no longer move beyond its innate inertia. She would stay inside for weeks; not visiting nor being visited. Her bed became her hideout. At night Albert would rock her to sleep as she gently sobbed in his arms. Ghosts sat upon on both their shoulders.
As Phillip grew older and approached the age at which his father had left school the question arose as to which path in life he would follow. A year out from the age at which he could leave school Albert handed over a patch of dirt for his son to take over and manage, in much the same as his own father had done for him. Phillip had already shown some flair for farming and had taken in as much information as he could garner from his father, who for his part was absolutely chuffed that his son would firstly take an interest in taking on some responsibility, and secondly to look to him for guidance, to try and emulate him and his achievements.
Just as his father had done twenty or so years before Phillip tended to his very own piece of earth in the hours of sunlight between the end of school and sunset, and even stayed out into the dark making sure that the irrigation or ploughing were just so. Things didn’t quite come as naturally as they had to his father, but he compensated for this by sheer graft and effort.
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