A Dinner of Herbs (The Bannaman Legacy)

by Catherine Cookson

  She twisted round on the seat and, looking between the other outside passengers she gasped, ‘He started to handle me, an’ I stuck him with me hatpin.’

  The coachman stared from one to the other, shouting now, ‘Begod! If it wasn’t for losing time I’d come round there and help you do it again. Now, you two!’—he bounced his head from one to the other—‘any more of that and I’ll drop you on the road, young gentlemen or not. And it isn’t the act of a gentleman, is it? Which one of you did it?’

  ‘It was only a bit of fun,’ the man said, his face now grim.

  ‘Well, we always pay for our fun, an’ you’ve paid for yours. Anyway, miss, move to the other side of the other fella. Go on now. You’ll only have to defend yourself against one then.’

  As she stood up, the second man moved along the seat to take her place and she sat at the end of the narrow seat squeezing herself against the iron rail. And as soon as she was settled the driver gave a ‘Get up there!’ and they were off once more.

  They rode in silence for some miles before the man next to her spoke. But he didn’t look at her as he said, ‘I’m sorry. I apologise. It was very bad of us.’

  She kept her gaze straight ahead. It wasn’t he who should have said he was sorry because his hand hadn’t strayed past her shoulder.

  The man went on speaking. ‘My friend meant no harm, not really. We are…we are rather excited: we are going into Newcastle to take up new positions today. We are young doctors, you see.’

  Now she turned and looked at him. He had a pleasant face, a kindly face. ‘I’m not sorry I did it,’ she said.

  ‘No, I don’t suppose you are’—he gave a wry smile—‘but I think he is, and his first patient will be himself when we get in.’

  After a short pause he asked, ‘Are you going to take up service?’

  She made no reply, just stared at him. Was she going to take up service? That’s what she must look like, a young girl going into place. And she had her best clothes on an’ all. She had always considered them smart, a cut above the rest of the girls, because she made all her own clothes except the coats. He was waiting for an answer, and so she shook her head before saying, ‘No, I am not goin’ into place, I have one. I work with a farmin’ family. I…I’m going to see a friend. He’s ill.’

  ‘In hospital?’

  She swallowed deeply and looked ahead before she said, ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Sort of?’ He bent slightly towards her and looked into her face.

  ‘He’s in the prison hospital.’

  ‘Good God!…Oh, I am sorry. What has he done?’

  ‘They said he stabbed a friend, but he didn’t. I’m sure he didn’t; he would never stab anybody. And he liked Hal, I mean his friend. He was very fond of him. Always has been. They were mates.’ She didn’t know why she was telling him this. She had been mad at them, at the two of them, not so long ago, and here she was telling him her private affairs. But he wasn’t like the other one, sitting there with a face like thunder.

  ‘Do you know Newcastle?’

  ‘No. I’ve never been afore.’

  At this point the coach rocked and she was thrown against him, and he steadied her with his hand on her arm. But as soon as they were running smoothly again he left go of her; then asked, ‘How did you expect to find the hospital?’

  ‘I thought I’d just have to ask.’

  ‘Dear, dear. I must say, and don’t take umbrage at this, you are much too pretty to ask the way. But it is fortunate that I know the town well, and I’ll show you how to get there.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  By the time the coach reached Newcastle she had learned that both he and his friend had done part of their training in the Newcastle Infirmary and had been in Edinburgh for only a year. And they were both now fully-fledged doctors and, what seemed very strange to her, to use his own words, very poor.

  When finally he helped her down from the coach and handed her the basket she did not even thank him, for she was, in a way, speechless. The enormity of the city had overwhelmed her: the throngs of people, the carriages, the carts, the scramble of the vehicles to the side of the road to make way for the coach, and people as thick as flies on a midden had bereft her of speech. But not of hearing, for the man whom she had made acquainted with her hatpin was saying, ‘Don’t be so damn silly; let her go. She’ll find her way all right. She’s quick on the uptake, is that one. My leg’s paining like blazes.’

  ‘It served you right. You asked for it. Anyway, I’ll see you in about half an hour.’

  ‘You won’t. I’ll not wait for you.’

  ‘Please yourself. But he’s expecting us both together and, if I remember rightly, you don’t like him and he doesn’t care all that much for you. So please yourself about not waiting.’

  When he returned to her side again he said, ‘Come along. It’s about a ten-minute walk. Are they expecting you? I mean is it visiting time?’

  ‘No; I just thought they would let me see him.’

  He stared at her for a moment; then bit on his lip before saying, ‘They don’t do things like that, not in prisons. But fortunately I happen to know someone there, that is if he’s still in charge of the sick bay. I did some of my training in there, you know.’ He nodded at her, smiling as he spoke, and she thought, He’ll be a good doctor; he’ll make people feel better just talking to them.

  Mary Ellen didn’t believe in angels, not even guardian angels. But, while waiting in the bare stone room for the return of this new friend, as she thought of him, she felt positive in herself that some power had arranged her meeting with this young doctor, for never, never could she have found this place on her own; and never, never could she have stopped anyone in the street and asked the way, not even the women, who to her had looked like foreign beings, and were loud-mouthed and yelling, some so poorly dressed that they appeared to be in rags. And yet there were carriages with fine ladies sitting in them. And what was absolutely certain: if she had, on her own, managed to find this place, they would never have let her in.

  The young doctor returned, and with him a man in a thick serge uniform. He was a burly type, with a big head and his hair cut close.

  The doctor spoke to him, saying, ‘This is the young woman, Pilling.’ Then turning to her, he said, ‘This is Sergeant Pilling. Now he is going to let you have a little time with the pri…your friend. Then he will tell you how to get a cab to take you to the Cloth Market, and this will put you off at the White Hart. That’s from where the Doctor Syntax leaves around half past three.’

  She looked at him; and now there were tears in her eyes and she held out her hand, saying, ‘Thank you. I…I don’t know what else to say. But I can see now that it was stupid of me to come to this town alone; I…I would never have got here without your help. I’ll…I’ll always remember your kindness, sir.’

  He shook her hand warmly, saying, ‘I’m sorry we had to meet under such circumstances. It was a sharp introduction for us both, except that you didn’t introduce me to your hatpin.’ He laughed now as she bowed her head; and turning from her, he looked at the warder again, saying, quietly, ‘Thank you, Pilling. I’ll be seeing you.’

  ‘Very good, sir. Very good.’ The man jerked his head towards him, then said, ‘Well, come along, miss. Come along. Time’s getting on.’

  ‘Goodbye, doctor.’ She turned towards him, and he said, ‘Goodbye,’ then went out of one door as she, following the warder, went out of the other.

  When she entered the cell-like room and saw Roddy propped up in a narrow iron bed she wanted to groan aloud, such was the pain that the sight of him in this awful place caused her. Not only was the room stark, but it was the smell, the queer smell. It wasn’t a midden smell or a dirty smell; she couldn’t put a name to the smell, only that it frightened her.

  When Roddy held out his hands towards her she dropped the basket and ran to him, and, grasping them, she muttered, ‘Oh Roddy. Roddy.’

  ‘Ten minutes, miss. That’s all. I�
��ll be back in ten minutes.’

  Roddy opened his mouth wide, and three times he closed it before he brought out her name: ‘Oh, Mary Ellen.’

  ‘It’s all right. It’s all right, Roddy.’

  ‘I…I never expected…’ He was gasping for breath. ‘How…how did you get here?’

  ‘I came by coach. And I’ve brought you some things. Look, there.’ She turned round to where the basket was reposing on its side on the floor.

  He shook his head; then his grip tightening on her hands, he pulled her down onto the side of the bed and, putting his face close to her, he said, ‘There’s not much time. Listen, will you, Mary Ellen. Will you listen?’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course, Roddy, yes.’

  ‘Well, it’s like this. I’ve…I’ve remembered.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Aye, yes. But not all. Things are mixed up, but two things are clear: the grave…’

  ‘The grave?’ Her eyebrows shot up.

  ‘Aye. Aye, the grave. With a man in it. I can see his face. I’ve just got to close me eyes and I can see his face. And then, me da.’ He now lowered his head before muttering, ‘Mary Ellen…they threw him over the cliff. I…I saw him flying through the air.’

  ‘Who threw him over the cliff? Who? Who, Roddy?’

  ‘Bannaman.’

  ‘Bannaman?…Mr Bannaman?’ She could hardly hear her own voice, it was so filled with awe.

  ‘Aye. Bannaman and his woodman.’

  ‘No! No!’ She shook her head. ‘He’s…he’s a respected…’

  ‘Mary Ellen.’ His manner and his voice changed: he appeared no longer a sick man, and, his hands going to her shoulders, he actually shook her as he said, ‘Listen! ’Tis important. ’Tis me life. Do you understand? ’Tis me life. Go to Mr Mulcaster. Tell him what I’ve told you. Tell him to bring in the justice, and dig up near the place where the fall was. They’ll know it ’cos it’s given way again of late and taken the path with it. It’s just there, just round there. I know it. I know it.’

  ‘All right. All right.’ She loosened his hands from her shoulders, and now she held them, saying, ‘’Tis a big accusation to make, Roddy.’

  ‘’Tis the truth. That’s why he tried to do me in and put the blame on me for what happened to Hal. By the way, how is he?’

  ‘I don’t know, except when I heard last he was all right.’

  ‘Will you be seeing him?’

  ‘I don’t know where he is, ’cos they moved him to a different place.’

  ‘Ask where he is, will you? Ask the warder. Go and see, will you? Go and see him, Mary Ellen. Tell him I never did it.’

  ‘He’ll know that. He’ll know that, Roddy. But about t’other.’

  ‘Aye, t’other. They tell me the case comes up in a fortnight. I’ll be on me legs by then. If I thought I could get to that quarry I’d be on me legs now. Look…look, Mary Ellen’—he shook his head—‘I’m not…I haven’t gone mad or dreamin’. I tell you, when the sense was knocked out of me by them throwing me after me da, it must have been brought back when Bannaman tried to do me in again. But he left me in such a state that he never thought I’d survive. Nor yet Hal, by all accounts. ’Tis a miracle that I’m alive. The doctor said that. He said it again and again, ’tis a miracle that I’m alive. But I am alive, Mary Ellen, and that man is a murderer. He not only murdered me da, but whoever was put into that grave. And you know, I’ve got me thoughts on that, an’ all.’

  ‘You have?’

  ‘Aye. I have, ’cos you know, Hal has always maintained his da would come back and he’d see him again. Well, likely he will. If what I feel to be true, likely he will.’

  It was at this point that the door opened. Mary Ellen started up from the bed, only to have her hands gripped again; and Roddy, looking up at her and his expression one of anguished pleading, said, ‘You’ll see to it, won’t you, Mary Ellen? You’ll see to it? And right away.’

  ‘Aye. Aye, Roddy, I will. I will. This very day, I will. Or as soon as I get back.’ She now pulled her hands from his grip and, rushing to the basket, she picked it up, took it back to the bed, on which she emptied its contents, while looking towards the warder and saying, ‘I’m comin’. I’m comin’.’

  ‘’Tis all right, lass. ’Tis all right.’ He too was looking at the food on the bed, and he smiled grimly at her now as he said, ‘That should keep him going for a time. With a load like that you’d be welcome every day.’ And he ran his lips one over the other.

  She said nothing, but backing across the small room, her head nodding all the time, she stopped at the door held open by the warder and muttered, ‘Bye. Ta-ra, Roddy. I’ll…I’ll be back. I’ll be back.’

  He made no reply, but his whole expression spoke for him.

  Once out in the corridor, she turned to the warder and said, ‘Is there another infirmary near here?’

  ‘What kind of an infirmary are you lookin’ for? This is a prison infirmary. The general one is some distance away.’

  ‘Would that…would that be where the other man was taken?’

  ‘You mean the one he tried to do for?’

  Now she reared up, her voice even strident as she cried ‘He never did! He never would; they were mates.’

  ‘All right. All right.’ He flapped a hand at her. ‘As you say, he never did. That’s what he says, an’ all. Well, the justices will work that one out. Anyway, if you’re lookin’ for that young fellow, he’s not a stone’s throw away along the road. Turn left out of the main gate. ’Tis a red building right opposite to you. You can’t miss it. But the doctor asked me to see you to a cab. What about that?’

  ‘I’ll get one from the other place. And I’m…I’m sorry I was hasty, but you know…’

  ‘All right. All right, lass, I know.’ And he flapped a hand at her again. ‘’Tis the law of the land, a man is innocent until he’s found guilty. But I wish him well ’cos he’s decent enough spoken.’

  At the end of the corridor he passed her over to another warder who saw her out of the gates. On the cobbled road once more, she turned left and there at the end of the street was the red building…

  After she had rung the bell, the heavy oak door was opened by a woman in a black dress and with a white cap and apron. ‘What’s your business?’ she demanded.

  ‘Would…would it be possible for me to see Mr Hal Roystan?’

  ‘Are you his wife?’

  Her eyebrows went up again. Did she look like a wife? What would the woman say if she said she was just a friend? Likely she wouldn’t let her in.

  ‘I’m…I’m his sister.’

  ‘Oh. Oh well, seein’ you’re a relative, come in. Though it isn’t the day for callers. Have you come far?’

  ‘Yes, right from Langley.’

  ‘Langley? Where’s that?’

  She hesitated. Where was it? ‘Well, it’s beyond Hexham, on the way up to Allendale.’

  ‘Oh. Oh, I know Hexham. I’ve been to Hexham. Went by coach once. Splendid place, Hexham.’

  They had walked across the wide hall; and now the woman pushed open a door and led the way into a long room which seemed to be packed with beds, and all occupied. Some men were sitting up, some were lying down; and two men were sitting on wooden stools to the side of their beds. And on the sight of Mary Ellen, one of these rose to his feet and appeared not to be believing what his eyes were seeing.

  The woman did not immediately direct Mary Ellen towards the bed, but called up the ward to where another woman was sitting behind a small table: ‘Roystan’s sister,’ she said. ‘Give her ten minutes. That’s all, ten minutes.’ And as Mary Ellen walked towards the astonished man, part of her mind was saying, ‘Everything is timed to ten minutes.’

  ‘Hello Hal.’

  He seemed unable to speak for a moment; but then said, ‘Hello, Mary Ellen. How did you get here?’

  Again she gave the same answer to the same question; ‘By coach.’

  He did not say he was glad to see her, but point
ed to the stool, and she sat down, while he sat on the edge of the bed, but not before he had glanced down the ward towards the woman seated behind the table.

  ‘How did you find out where I was?’

  ‘I’ve been to see…Roddy. He…he wants me to tell you that he never did…’

  ‘Oh, I know that. I know that. We were jumped. How is he?’

  ‘He…he doesn’t look well. He was knocked about awful. They didn’t expect him to live. Nobody did. But…but listen, Hal. Listen! I’ve something to tell you.’

  She hitched herself towards the edge of the stool and as she leaned towards him he lowered his head down to hers as she whispered, ‘He’s remembered. He’s remembered what happened. I…I can’t believe it, but yet I know it’s true. The night his father died there wasn’t a landslide, he was thrown over, he says, after’—she gulped—‘he saw a man in a grave…two men were burying a man in a grave. And the men took his da and threw him over the cliff. They must have done the same with Roddy, and he remembers who the men were.’

  ‘No! No!’

  ‘Aye. Yes. So listen, Hal.’ She went to grip his hands as she had done with Roddy, but then hesitated and withdrew them, and joined them lightly in her lap. Her voice dropping still further until she could hardly hear her own words, she said, ‘He says it was Mr Bannaman an’…and his woodman. And you know who his woodman is, it’s Mr Feeler. That’s the man, you know, with only half a hand who at times would come to the woodland to gather fir trees. At least that’s what he was supposed to be doin’. But thinkin’ back now, I remember Kate dashing up there one time when I told her he was in the wood gathering fir trees.’

  ‘My God! Christ!’ Hal wasn’t looking at her, but over her head as if into the distance, down the years. She had to call his attention to her by saying. ‘He wants me to go and tell Mr Mulcaster and for him to go to the justice and get them to start digging to prove he’s right.’

  He was looking into her eyes now. ‘Who do you think they were burying, Mary Ellen?’ he said.