A Dinner of Herbs (The Bannaman Legacy)

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘I don’t know,’ she answered, her gaze half shaded.

  Again he looked away from her before he said, ‘You know my da disappeared around that time. Because they found the horse in Newcastle, they put two and two together and added it up that he had skipped with the money on a ship. Never—’ His teeth were ground together before he said again, ‘Never have I believed it.’ His face now darkened and he actually glared at her as he repeated, ‘Never for one moment have I believed it.’

  He was gripping the round iron bed frame so that his knuckles were shining white as he muttered, with bent head, ‘God Almighty! If I can prove them wrong. Oh God, if only this proves them wrong.’ Then his head jerking up, he said, ‘I’ll soon be out of here, the morrow or the next day. I’m healed, at least enough to get me on me legs. And you do what Roddy said. But mind, be prepared for stumbling blocks: Bannaman’s a name in the county, at least he is now; they’ve forgotten to ask how he made so much money so quickly years gone by. But soon it’ll be explained, please God.’

  He put his hand out now and gripped her arm. ‘Don’t be put off, will you not? Don’t be put off, because that’s what they’ll do, them up top. They all stick together, because if this is true, an’ I know it is, aye, I know it is’—his head was bobbing now—‘it’ll raise such a stink that the smell from the mill will be like scent in their noses.’ He got up and pulled her to her feet, saying, ‘Go on. Get back as quick as you can.’ And his hand went out as if to push her to hasten her going; but then stopped midway and, his manner changing and his voice soft, he said, ‘Thanks, Mary Ellen. I’ll…I’ll never be able to thank you enough for this day.’

  She smiled weakly at him now, saying, ‘’Tis all right, Hal. ’Tis all right. And I’ll do what you say.’ Then in apology for coming empty-handed, she added, ‘I’m sorry I haven’t brought you anything.’

  ‘Aw, Mary Ellen, what you’ve brought me is pure gold dust. Go on now; and travel safely for so much rests on your shoulders. You know that?’

  ‘Aye.’ She nodded at him, then said, ‘Ta-ra then, Hal.’ And he answered, ‘Ta-ra, Mary Ellen.’

  The woman had left the table and come down the room, and she opened the door, and pointing across the hall, said to Mary Ellen, ‘You can let yourself out, but be sure to close the door after you. We’re shorthanded.’

  Mary Ellen closed the door after her; but once outside on the cobbled road again, she did not hurry to where she hoped to find a coach or a carrier cart to take her home, but stood like a perplexed child nipping on the nail of her first finger as she thought, What if they don’t believe me, ’cos he’s a big man, is Mr Bannaman. He could easily have me locked up for carrying such a message ’cos the gentry are a law unto themselves. And Mr Bannaman although not quite gentry was known as a very worthy man.

  There was trouble ahead. Whether they believed her or not, there was trouble ahead.

  It was seven o’clock in the evening and she had run all the way from the coach road, past the castle and up through the woods to the mill, hoping to find Mr Mulcaster still there. She knew that they banked down some of the fires after six, but she had heard that Mr Mulcaster and the clerks were often in the offices till late on some nights. It was deep twilight when she surprised a number of men as she scrambled her way over the horse tracks and stumbled round the mounds of bouse before she asked one of them if the agent was still about or had yet gone to his house which was nearby. No, the man answered, he was still in his office; and he had pointed to the buildings across the yard. And there, on her reaching the end one, a door opened as if at her bidding and two clerks stepped out, staring at her in surprise. But she ignored them and looked at the man following behind them.

  Gasping, she said, ‘Mr Mulcaster, please may I have a word with you?’

  The three men stood looking at her for a moment before Mr Mulcaster, observing her agitated state, said, ‘Yes, if it’s all that important.’

  ‘’Tis, sir. ’Tis.’

  The clerks seemed now reluctant to leave, until the agent said to them, ‘Well, get along.’ Then indicating that she should enter he picked up a lantern from a shelf just inside the doorway and went before her along a passage and up a flight of stairs and into a room. Then having closed the door behind her, he peered at her and said tersely, ‘What is it that’s brought you here in such a flutter? You’re Mary Ellen Lee, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Well, speak; tell me what you have to say because—’ he took out his watch and, looking at it, he remarked, ‘I am due for my meal about this time, and ready for it.’ But he smiled kindly at her.

  And now she began to gabble: first of all reminding him of what had taken place between his two workers; then of her visit to Roddy and of his disclosure.

  He did not speak or interrupt her gabbled discourse in any way until she was finished and stood gazing at him through the hazy lantern light when, looking at her steadily, he said as if in astonishment at her request, ‘You’re really asking me to inform the justices?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘But…but I can’t do that. Well, not on such…slender evidence. Young Greenbank’s mind could have been disturbed in another way by the treatment he had from his assailant, whether it was his friend or, as you maintain, some other.’

  ‘Mr Mulcaster, sir.’ She put out her joined hands as if in supplication towards him. ‘Believe me, please. He’s in his right mind, he is. He described how he saw his father flying into the air. It was when they threw him over the cliff. And then they must have done the same to him. And what’s more, he knows there was a man buried in a grave. Likely Roddy’s father came on them—’ She refrained from mentioning Mr Bannaman’s name again, but said, ‘The men were burying somebody. That’s why they turned on him. And…there’s something more, sir.’

  ‘Something more?’ His face stretched slightly, and she nodded as she went on, ‘I went to see Hal…Hal Roystan, an’ I told him. And you know, sir, he’s always been firm about the fact that his father never stole that money. And he didn’t, sir. I…I know that.’ She now closed her eyes tightly. She had said too much. If she said she knew where the money was they would ask her why she had kept quiet about it all this time. Could she say what was absolutely true, that for years at a time she’d forgotten about it? And now that place was so overgrown she imagined it would be hard to get at it. Why, trees had sprouted up all around.

  ‘Why are you so sure he didn’t steal the money?’

  She shook her head slightly as she said, ‘Well…I mean, from what Hal said his father would never have done a thing like that. And…and when I told him about the man being buried that Roddy saw I know he thinks it was his father. And another thing, sir.’

  ‘Yes? Yes? Go on.’

  ‘At odd times over the years, I’ve come across Mr Bannaman’s man, that Mr Feeler, up in the wood on top of the quarry. He always said he was looking for young fir trees, but now I know he must have been looking for something else, searchin’ like. And even Mr Bannaman’s been up there at times, again supposedly gatherin’ fir trees.’

  ‘Not supposedly gathering fir trees, but actually gathering fir trees, my dear girl. With my permission.’

  ‘Yes, but as Kate has often said, I mean Mrs Makepeace, why did they want to come this end to gather fir trees, young fir trees, when there’s those plantations nearer them?’

  Mr Mulcaster sat back in his chair as if pondering this point; and he remembered that he himself had sometimes wondered about it, yet recalling that he had felt a certain pride knowing the pines growing on the estate were of such a hardy type that they were coveted by others.

  He pushed his hard hat gently back from his brow. He had not removed his hat; there had been no need as this female was of no importance. But he looked down at her, noting that she had grown into a very bonny girl; in fact, she did not look a girl but more like a young woman: her fair hair was lying in moist ringlets down each cheek; her hat was tilted to the back
of her head; and in this light he did not know whether her eyes were green or hazel, but they were large and long lashed and full of concern. She had a beautiful skin too, and a figure that many a fashionable lady would envy. He remembered her as a child running wild around the fells, very often accompanied by the two boys who were now men and the centre of this tragedy. Well, what was he going to do? He could not pass over this information, yet were he to investigate by having men dig in these places where one or two of the landslides had happened over the years, what would be the outcome? Well he’d have to wait and see, wouldn’t he, and in the meantime think about it.

  He said quietly now, ‘Leave this with me, and I’ll think about it.’

  Then, to say that he was surprised was an understatement, astounded would have been a better description of his reaction when this young servant-maid, because that’s all she was, confronted him boldly by saying, ‘There’s no time to think about it, sir. If you don’t go to the justice straight away, and there’s one lives on the Allendale road, in the Hall there, then I’ll have to make me way there meself, because there’s no time to lose, they’ll be bringing Roddy up afore the justices any time now. And he could be sentenced and dispatched any place. And to prove what I’ve said will take some diggin’, so please, sir, there’s no time to think. What I mean is…’

  He held up a hand to check her flow, and he said in an almost placating way, ‘It’s on dark now. Anyway, Mr Morgan will undoubtedly be at his supper.’

  Ignoring that Mr Morgan might be dining, she persisted, ‘’Tisn’t far, sir. Not more than ten minutes on your horse. And I can be there as soon as you because I’ll cut across the fields.’

  She watched him bring his hat more forward onto his brow now, then place his hand tightly around his chin, while continuing to stare at her. Then in a voice that was almost a growl, he said, ‘Come along, girl.’

  She scurried after him, and into the yard, where a swaying lantern showed up a man standing at the head of a horse, and as Mr Mulcaster made his way towards them he said in an undertone, ‘Walk beside me.’

  And so that is what she did: she walked, stumbling by the side of the horse over the rough ground, until they came to the even pathway that led down to the road below the dam. And both seemed oblivious of the men they passed on the way and who must have wondered what a bonny lass like young Mary Ellen Lee was doing in the company of the agent and, too, making their way into the night.

  Eight

  ‘A nice hornets’ nest you’ve stirred up, girl: half the countryside digging the quarry for a body that nobody can find! ’Tis the third day they’ve been at it, and people walkin’ miles to see, all because that fellow thinks he remembers what he didn’t see.’

  ‘He did see, mistress, he did see. And if they’d only fetch him he’d likely point out the place.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid, girl. Thirteen years it’ll be since it happened, whatever did…if it did. Anyway, it was the time Gabriel Roystan did off…’

  ‘Perhaps he never did off. That’s what’ll be proved. Hal’s always said…’

  ‘Hal…Roddy…there’s been too many men in your life, girl. You’ve been brought up along of ’em, granted, but as I said afore, you ran wild with them when you should have been put to work. ’Twas that father of yours thought you too good for service. I took Nell Bradley on when she was nine. She hadn’t time to get flighty.’

  ‘Yes, and what did she do, mistress? She flighted off, didn’t she? That’s when you took me…’ Mary Ellen stayed her retort and bent her head, and in a whisper now she muttered, ‘I’m sorry, mistress. I am. I should have never spoken like that.’

  She raised her eyes slowly and looked at the small plump woman whose face was tight with her indignation, and some part of her mind scorned herself as she began to placate her now by saying, ‘She didn’t know when she was well off; it was a good thing for me she went. I’m sorry, I am, mistress, but I’m all upset like.’

  ‘And right you have to be.’ The small body was bristling when the kitchen door opened and Farmer Davison entered, to be greeted by his wife pointing a short wagging finger at her maid, crying, ‘You won’t believe this, Joe, you won’t believe this, but she cheeked me, Mary Ellen cheeked me.’

  Joe Davison looked at his wife, raised his eyebrows and said, ‘Cannot believe that, wife. Mary Ellen has never cheeked you afore; thinks highly of you, I would say. Don’t you, Mary Ellen?’

  ‘Yes, master. Yes, I do. I do indeed.’

  ‘There now’—he looked at his wife as one might do at an erring child—‘’tis mistaken you are.’

  ‘I am not mistaken, Mr Davison. I am not mistaken. She’s gone clean lopsided, she has. All over this Roddy Greenbank imagining bodies.’

  He walked to the mantelpiece and took up a clay pipe from a wooden stand, and he bent and knocked out the doddle on the side of the stone fireplace before saying, ‘Natural like. Natural. She’s only trying to save him from transportation, and Australia is sure where he’s bound for if it’s proved he stabbed young Roystan. Seven years at least, could be, if not life. It all depends who the justices are where he’s tried. Now if it was in London, Ted Yarrow was saying last night down at the inn, because Ted, you know, was in the navy and many years he put in, as he said himself, in that hell-hole. Well, there, he said, they send off to Australia and Botany Bay ten times as many as we send sheep to market in a year in these parts.’

  ‘Shut up, will you, or she’ll be on the floor in a minute!’ The woman bustled round the table and unceremoniously pushed Mary Ellen down on to the settle, saying, ‘Control yourself, girl! Don’t you start no faintin’ fits in this house. No time for such.’

  As Mrs Davison now took a wet cloth and none too gently began applying it in slaps around Mary Ellen’s face, the kitchen door once again opened, and there came into the room with a rush her son Archie, followed by her grandson Lennie. And speaking rapidly and his face alight with excitement, Archie cried, ‘They’ve found it! They’ve found it, da’—he nodded to the elder Davison—‘the body. And it is Gabriel Roystan. He had a short leg, you know, an’ wore a built-up shoe. Well, that’s how young Hal recognised him. But it was Roddy Greenbank when they brought him from prison who pointed out where he remembered the grave was. And it was with the help of Kate Makepeace: she stood in the bottom of the quarry and pointed upwards; that’s what they said. But ’twas all overgrown with trees. Yet Roddy measured the part from where he remembered he sat on the side of the quarry and kept on that they dig there. Trees had grown on top, but that’s where they found the body. The place is alive. They’ve put it in one of the mill sheds, they say. And you’ll never guess where they’re off to now. Well, this much I saw meself on the road. You’ll never guess.’

  ‘Well, go on then. Where? Where they off to? And who?’

  Archie Davison pointed at his father as he said, ‘Bannaman’s. Mr Bannaman’s. They’re after Pat Feeler.’

  ‘Pat Feeler? That little chap?’

  ‘Aye, that little chap. And that’s not all. There’s other rumours goin’ about: folks are hintin’ and noddin’ but not saying anything in case they get brought up. But I saw them meself. There was Mulcaster, the mill agent, and two high-topped gentlemen in a coach leading the way. And behind it, in a market cart, was another two gentlemen…well, ordinary-looking men, constables I should think. But with them was Hal Roystan and Roddy Greenbank, at least what’s left of him, because he was a robust lookin’ young fellow last time I saw him, now you’d take him for a strip of lint, no flesh on his bones and his face as white as pig’s fat.’

  ‘I told you. I told you.’

  ‘All right. All right. So you told us. And you’ve come round enough to chirp in again.’ Mrs Davison was nodding her head at Mary Ellen now. Then turning from her, she said, ‘Did they find the money in the grave?’

  ‘Don’t be daft, woman,’ her husband put in, and puffed out a cloud of smoke from his clay pipe and watched it ascending to the black-be
amed ceiling before adding, ‘You do say the daftest things, Mary. You do indeed. Whoever robbed him and buried him, they did it for the money, and it’s been long spent now, I’d say.’

  ‘Perhaps well spent, perhaps to start a new herd or some such.’ The father and son exchanged glances across the kitchen table as if they had at the same time revived buried thoughts. Then their attention was brought back to the mistress of the house because she was once more upbraiding her maid, saying, ‘Now don’t you attempt to go off, miss. You got your tongue back a minute gone, so come on, up on your pins an’ get to those pans for they won’t scour themselves.’ And with this she hauled Mary Ellen to her feet. And as she pushed her towards the sink she said, ‘Were I to ask are you fit enough to go this minute an’ see what’s happenin’ to that one you’re so churned up about, you’d find your legs then, wouldn’t you?’

  To the surprise of her mistress and definitely to the astonishment of the three men, Mary Ellen turned about and, bouncing her head towards the little woman, she cried, ‘Yes, I would that. Yes, I would.’ Then turning her look on the only occupant of the room who hadn’t as yet opened his mouth, she cried in no small voice, ‘Yes, I would. And run like a hare. So there you have it! All of you!’ And having silenced them, she turned to the sink and, taking up the bowl of sand and salt, she began to scour the pan, while her master and mistress and their son and his son stared at her unbelieving.

  But the maid’s retort was causing the most indignant reaction in her mistress. This was the young lass they had treated as an equal, even allowing her to eat at the same table with them, going as far as to imagine they would welcome her as a permanent member of the household, and she, after all, but a servant. So generous had they been towards her that they hadn’t bonded her these past two years. And on top of this, why, they kept her ailing father in food! And what was their reward? Insolence, the like they had never heard from any servant in the kitchen. What were things coming to? The world was in a dreadful state: people being murdered, graves being opened up, young men fighting and stabbing each other. But all this was nothing compared to the fact that her maid had dared to speak out of turn.