‘Just as you say.’ Ben got to his feet. He still had hold of Kate’s hand and he embarrassed the company still further by bringing it up to his cheek, the while looking down at her and saying, ‘Don’t worry, my dear, don’t worry. It’s going to be all right.’ Then he followed Hal out of the room.
In the hall, he stood for a moment looking first one way, then the other, and saw that his host was standing outside a door at the end of a small corridor. When he joined him, Hal thrust open the door of his office and went in. He did not take a seat but, standing with his back to the desk, he began immediately, saying, ‘Now, mister, let’s get this thing clear. You spring this thing on us, saying you are going to take Kate away. Where to, may I ask? Up into that shepherd’s hut in the wilds? Kate’s been used to a good home, a good upbringing. And anyway, nobody knows nowt about you. Who are you anyway?’
This, in a way, would have been the opportunity for Ben to say quietly who he was, trusting that this man would be sensible enough to let the past bury itself, and let him expiate, as it were, any residue that was left. Yet he had promised Kate, and he saw now, as she had indicated, that this man was of a fiery disposition; it would be best to tread warily with him, so he answered him quietly, saying, ‘I’ve told you who I am, sir. And as for taking Kate to the shepherd’s hut, that was never my intention, even if she had consented. I happen, sir, for your information, to be a man of means. In this country I am banking with Lloyds. They have offices in London, and also in Newcastle. I give you leave to enquire into the finances I have transferred from my home. There, I still hold shares in the coach business. I am the owner of a house of considerable style and value. My grandmother is there at the moment. I have enough money to keep myself and Kate in idleness for the rest of our lives if I so wished. But I had considered taking up residence in this country.’
His manner had become stiff and formal, and it was certainly having an effect on Hal, for now, flopping down into his desk chair, he said, ‘If all this is true as you say, why are you living like you do? Why haven’t you shown your face here afore, if you felt that way about Kate and it was not just a booky friendship, as she said?’
‘To answer your latter question, Kate wished it that way. She’s had an unfortunate experience as you so well know, and she was fearful of what significance you would place on our association, and she was content to let it be one of friendship. But for my part, from our first meeting, my feelings for her went beyond friendship.’
‘Aye, well.’ Hal took up a feathered pen and started stabbing the quill end into the back of a brown ledger, and he seemed at a loss for words until, his chin jerking up, he said, ‘But that doesn’t account for a man of means, as you say you are, living rough.’
‘I wouldn’t call it living rough! It’s a sparsely furnished, but comfortable little room. It met the needs of the time, because I had come to England in…well, I can only say, a disturbed emotional state.’
‘What do you exactly mean by that? I would rather you spoke plain. You been married afore?’
Ben now smiled and shook his head. ‘No, I can honestly say I have never been married before, nor yet have I proposed marriage to any woman until I met Kate. No, my emotional state was caused through…well, you could say, family problems, things that had happened in the past having left repercussions.’
‘Aye, well, what I say is, a man can’t be responsible for his people. If he’s upright in himself, that’s all that matters.’
‘I’m very pleased to hear you say that, sir, very pleased indeed.’
‘Aye, well, if we had to be responsible for our forebears’ doings, half of us would die of shame.’
Ben stared at the man. Here was another opening. If he were to say who his forebears were now, surely this man would have to eat his own words if he didn’t accept him for what he was. If only he hadn’t promised Kate. Almost immediately, however, he knew how right Kate had been when the man before him, his voice and mood changing, said, ‘Of course, like everything else there’s exceptions, and bad blood can be passed down, and not only through the male as some would hold, but through the females an’ all. Aye, by God! Through the females an’ all.’
It seemed to Ben that the man must have forgotten his presence, for he sat staring down on the brown ledger. The pen had fallen from his fingers and they were spread out as if about to clutch at something. Then he sighed and lifted his head and once more they were looking at each other.
‘Aye, well,’ Hal said, getting to his feet, ‘we’d better get back and put her out of her misery, although mind, I’ll have something to say to her about her underhandedness in all this. By! I will. And so will her mother. But just one more thing.’ He stabbed his finger into Ben’s shoulder. ‘About this taking her away: you’re not thinkin’ about America, are you?’
‘No, not at the moment; in fact, not at all. That, I suppose, was an unfortunate phrase. Anyway, I know I could never take her away, not in one sense, for she has such deep feelings for you all, exceptionally so I would say for yourself and her mother. Her one aim in life seems never to bring you hurt.’
‘Aye, well, she never has. She’s been a grand lass and I think of her as if she was me own. But I suppose you know she isn’t. You heard about her father’s comin’, I’ll bet.’
‘Yes, yes I did. But strangely that incident seems only to have deepened her affection for you.’
‘Yes, well.’ He wagged his head in embarrassment, then said abruptly but with something of a grin on his face, ‘Come on, I’ve listened to your chit-chat long enough, let the others put up with it.’ And Ben grinned back at him, at the same time thinking, What a character. He’d fit beautifully into Galveston, especially the business side. There’d be no pulling the wool over this man’s eyes.
But the mental picture created another disturbing thought: What would really be this man’s reaction when he later discovered that Kate had literally pulled the wool over his eyes where he himself was concerned?
A sudden shudder passed over his lean body and there returned to him a feeling of fear such as he hadn’t experienced since he was a boy: there was the overpowering figure of his mother advancing towards him, her hands outstretched as if she were about to choke him. And so strong was the feeling that it took all his will-power to enable him to resume his usual poise before entering the sitting room to face the waiting family.
Eleven
Hal hadn’t been well for the past week. The inheritance of the smelter’s disease, had, over the years, made itself evident, particularly during the autumn and early winter. But it hadn’t until now made him take to his bed. For two full days, Mary Ellen had cosseted him with potions similar to those which old Kate would have used on this complaint. She had also rubbed his chest with goose fat and kept a hot iron oven plate at his feet. And although he wasn’t much improved after the two days, he insisted on getting about and had, up till now, spent most of his time in the office which, Mary Ellen had said, could have been a smelting mill itself, so hot was the room.
All this morning he had sat pondering over his ledgers. The harvest had been anything but good—it was more than a quarter down all round on last year—so when he got his meal back from the miller he had to charge around eighteen shillings per boll for it, which worked out at almost three and six a stone in the market. And he’d had to charge as much as one and six a stone for his potatoes, which made it difficult to sell them. Everything else in proportion was up in price. What the fowl would bring today he didn’t know. But as was usual, he had instructed the boys to wait and see the state of the market before pricing the butter and eggs.
Gabriel and Tom had driven the goods into market this morning, and only Kate and Florrie had gone with them. Florrie was to meet Charles in Hexham and ride back with him; he had been invited to supper. Kate was to see Ben, also in Hexham, so she had said, and she was to invite him, too, back to supper. However, Mary Ellen was doubtful of his accepting the invitation: to her mind, there was something
strange about this match, because for the last fortnight he hadn’t called at the house; instead, Kate had ridden out to him. Now that wasn’t right, that a woman should ride out to a man as often as she did. There was something about the whole affair she couldn’t put her finger on.
She looked towards Hal. He was sitting happed up with a big shawl to the side of the fire; she herself, was sitting as far from it as she could get. The room wasn’t all that big and the fire was enormous. She was sweating and her fingers were sticking to her work. She was in the process of embroidering a sun bonnet; she was sewing a small frill round the edge of the neck flap. It was a special bonnet, for it was to go into Florrie’s trunk. Not that she would be in need of many bonnets when she married Charles. But nevertheless, he was a farmer and she might some time want to go out into the fields and help with the hay. She was happy for Florrie. That was a good match, she would never want…Nor would Kate either by the sound of it. A man of means, Hal said he was, big means. So she wouldn’t need a sun bonnet, nor a shawl spun from their own wheel.
‘What about Maggie?’
The question came at her and brought with it a feeling of irritation. Oh, Maggie was likely to fall between two, three or four stools. Maggie was a flibbertigibbet at heart, she was sorry to say. Not content with two on her tail now, she had plumped for taking the victuals over to the Bostons this morning, because John had said Andrew was home.
Andrew Boston, like Hugh, was going in for law. Hugh had been home last weekend, and while teasing Maggie and saying that all the lads in Newcastle knew of her, he happened to mention that Andrew Boston had been asking after her. This had been in the way of a joke, because Andrew had been courting Lily Quale on and off since they were children, at least it had seemed like courting, but she had never got him up to the scratch of an engagement. And so it was a family joke: they would say, ‘As long as Andrew Boston’s courtship.’ But there, this morning hadn’t Maggie proffered to take the weekly victuals to the little manor? Killing two birds with one stone, as she put it, because she wanted to take Betty some embroidery threads. So keen had she been to go that she herself had harnessed up the horse and trap, which had almost elicited a sarcastic quip from Gabriel—a look from her having warned him just in time—for it was well-known in the family that Maggie didn’t like outside work at all, although she was quite good in the house.
‘What did you say?’ Mary Ellen leant forward, and Hal, his voice almost a croak, said, ‘I…I said, the house won’t be the same with only Maggie left in it.’
‘Oh, there’s almost a year to go, at least for Florrie. But if Maggie makes up her mind, it could be the morrow. You know Maggie.’
They had both refrained from mentioning Kate’s future, yet they each knew that it was in the forefront of the other’s mind.
When he coughed a harsh chest-racking cough, she said, ‘I’ll get you something hot.’ And he protested, waving his hand at her until he got his breath back and then he said, ‘I’m sick of hot drinks. I’ll have some small beer.’
‘Not a drop of rum?’
‘Woman, I said small beer. I want something thin to run down me gullet.’
‘All right. All right’—she nodded—‘you’ll get something thin to run down your gullet, but it’s hot stuff you want inside of you, not cold. Being you, though, you know best, don’t you?’
‘Aye, I do. And get on with it.’
After she had left the room, he sat grinning quietly to himself for a moment. Then his face took on a sober expression mirroring his thoughts: he had never been frightened about himself before, but this last was a bad dose. He had seen men die of the smelter’s disease and in their young days, too. So he had considered he had been lucky to have got out of the mill when he did. But apparently it hadn’t been soon enough. Then of course, the stab wound he’d had in his ribs from either Bannaman or his thug hadn’t helped. From time to time he had a pain there that he didn’t let on about.
Deep inside, he was angry at his state of health. Here he was, not yet fifty, and not looking anywhere near that age and most of the time able to work like a man still in his twenties, yet inside, there was this rotting. But anyway, he comforted himself now, he had got this far over the hump: if the smelt was going to kill you, it usually did so in your thirties; once you got over that it became more like a yearly visitation and an irritation. Look at Bob Hancock, turned eighty. He had been coughing for the last forty years. And Peter McIllroy. He was well into his sixties, and he had only been left the mine these ten years or so, and he was still going strong.
He sat dwelling on the survivors, willing himself not to recall the names of those who hadn’t survived when the door opened and John came in in his stockinged feet, hunching his shoulders, saying, ‘By! This is where I’d like to be the day. How are you feeling?’
‘All right. If it wasn’t for your damn mother, I’d be outside. Coddling, coddling, she never stops.’
‘Yes, that’s where you should be.’ John stood nodding down at him. ‘Swinging the lead, that’s all you’re doing. Anything for an easy life. Cough, hawk and spit, just to show you’re bad.’
‘Look out, you, I’ve still got enough strength in me hand to land you one.’
‘Aye. Well’—John’s voice became serious now—‘you want to hang on to it, your strength, and not be so damned stubborn. And get it into your head that the place is not going to drop to bits if you don’t show your face in the yard every morning at five o’clock. There’s four of us out there, and if we can’t manage now, we never will.’
‘Oh, you think you can manage on your own, do you? You want me stuck in the corner with a pipe in me mouth, jabbering?’
‘Oh, I can see the day. Yes, I can see it coming.’ John was smiling now. And when Mary Ellen entered the room he turned to her and said, ‘You know what he’s telling me here?’
‘No, what now?’
‘He says he’s fed up with work outside and he’s going to sit in the corner with a pipe in his mouth.’
They exchanged glances, then laughed; but Hal said nothing, just jerked his chin upwards and extended his hands for the mug of beer, and he was just about to take a drink of it when a voice was heard calling, ‘Mam! Mam!’ And he looked at Mary Ellen and she at him, saying, ‘That’s our Maggie. She’s back early.’
At this John said, ‘Likely she’s raced home to tell us she’s hooked Andrew.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ Mary Ellen went to open the door, but it was almost pulled out of her hand, and there stood Maggie, her face red, her eyes bright, her breath coming quickly.
‘What’s the matter? What’s happened?’
‘Come here a minute, I want to tell you something.’
‘If you’ve anything to tell, lass, I’m here an’ all—What is it?’
Maggie moved a step until she could see her father, and her mouth opened twice before she said, ‘I’d better tell Mam first.’
‘Come in here.’ His voice sounded like a rusty bark, and almost apprehensively now, Maggie glanced at her mother, then sidled into the room.
‘Well, what news have you got that’s of such importance it’s made you red in the gills? And you’ve likely driven the trap as if the highwaymen were after you. Well, speak out, girl.’
Now Maggie glanced from her father to her mother, then to John, who, aiming to help things out, said, ‘Well, perhaps it’s woman’s talk. Is it?’
She shook her head.
‘What is it, girl?’
Maggie now turned to her mother and, her voice low and as if there were no-one else present in the room, she said, ‘It’s…about him. ‘
‘Him?’
‘Yes, him. Kate’s supposed friend, her intended.’ There was a bite to the last word.
‘What about him?’
Maggie now turned and looked at her father, saying, ‘You’re…you’re not going to like this, Dad.’
‘Well, whatever I’m not gona like, girl, you’ve broken your neck to get here to t
ell us, so out with it.’
‘He’s…well, he’s not what he seems, ’cos…and she’s…she’s sly, she must have known.’
‘In the name of God! Girl, spit it out.’ Hal had pulled himself to his feet, and now Maggie, stepping back towards her mother, muttered, ‘He’s…he’s bought the…the Bannamans’ farm.’
They all stared at her in disbelief.
‘’Tisn’t true.’ Mary Ellen’s voice came out on a hissing whisper.
‘It is, Mam, it is. Andrew heard it in Newcastle. His father had heard it had been sold but didn’t know who to. Then yesterday when passing he saw a lot of workmen and enquired. But the gaffer said they had been engaged by an agent. Then when Andrew came home he said it was in a roundabout way he got to know, ’cos the agent’s son is in rooms next to his and studying for the same thing. And he got on talking about the American for whom his father was doing business and had bought a house out Andrew’s way. That’s how it came about.’
When Hal yelled, ‘God’s truth!’ and ending on an oath that caused Mary Ellen to screw up her face and Maggie to step back against the bookcase in fright, they all thought for a moment that he was going to throw the glass paperweight that he was gripping in his hand at one of them. And he might have done this, except that John’s voice, quick and calm now, said, ‘Look Dad. Look, hold your hand a minute. He could have done it blindly. He may not have known.’
Hal gripped the shawl tight around his throat and for a moment it looked as if he was about to choke. But when Mary Ellen, full of concern now, went to his side, he thrust her off and, dropping down into his chair, he now beat his closed fist on the leather-topped desk, muttering thickly, ‘She must have known. All the time she must have known.’ Then looking up at Mary Ellen, he said, ‘Can you believe it? Kate, she must have known.’
A Dinner of Herbs (The Bannaman Legacy) Page 50