A Dinner of Herbs (The Bannaman Legacy)

by Catherine Cookson

  Thirteen

  It was the middle of December and already there had been two falls of snow, bringing forth predictions from old hands of a very bad winter. And when the wild duck settled early on Langley dam and on the pool above the smelting mill, the bleak outlook seemed assured.

  The early fall of snow had worried Kate a little for Ben was still living up in the shepherd’s hut. He had been just too late to secure the cottage, for the owner, who now resided in Corbridge, had let it to a local Haydon Bridge family.

  Her mother and Hal too were concerned that Ben should still be living up in the wilds, but she knew that he spent many a night at Rooklands now that the builders and decorators had gone. There was one room in the house that he had really made comfortable with the furniture that they had stored there. This had been another bone of contention between her father and Ben, the storing of the furniture.

  They had made several trips into Newcastle and to house sales, and had secured some very good pieces of furniture. When she had first intimated to Hal that Ben was going to store them at the farm, he had again become irate, saying he would clear the loft. But, as they all knew, the loft was already stacked with the residue of his own visits to sales over the years, and so, reluctantly, he had to realise the inevitability of this, at least until they were able to decide on the house in which they would be going to live.

  A dispute, too, about their future home had arisen. There had been a farmhouse and land going quite near, which Hal had been whole-heartedly for their taking, but Kate had had to point out to him it wasn’t exactly what Ben wanted. And when he had demanded, ‘What does he want, I’d like to know?’ for the first time she had snapped back at him, ‘Not a little farmhouse on your doorstep,’ which had silenced them both and caused a rift between them for days.

  Her marriage, as was Florrie’s, was set for the spring of the following year, and so over the past weeks every spare minute of the day and the long evenings was taken up with the sewing of bedding and gowns to fill each of their several chests.

  It became an added irritation to Kate that every time she went out to meet Ben, Hal would say to her, ‘You’re not going near that house now, are you?’ And she would promise him that she wasn’t going there, at the same time knowing that that was where she would find Ben.

  The same would happen when Ben came to call to take her out. ‘You’re not taking her near that house now, are you?’ Hal would say, and Ben always had to swallow deeply before answering. Once, when all he answered was, ‘Don’t worry, sir,’ Hal came back at him, yelling, ‘I do worry. She’s not to go there. Do you hear?’ and when Ben, not only to Hal’s but also to the surprise of the other members of the family, had replied in much the same manner, ‘I hear, sir; as yet I am not deaf,’ before walking out, there was revealed to them that the American was not all soft-spoken geniality, and that he was perhaps becoming a little tired of being dictated to.

  It was noted, too, that Kate was losing weight. Hal put it down to too much horse riding. ‘Gallivanting around the countryside would shake the flesh off anybody,’ he said. But Mary Ellen had different ideas. As she herself knew only too well, it was worry that stripped the flesh off your bones. And her Kate was worried; all the time she was worried. It seemed that since she had met this American she had never stopped worrying. But what about? Bannaman’s farm had been sorted out; they were going to get another place. And that was something else. There must be dozens of houses round about that would or should have suited him, but he always found something wrong with them. She wished she could get to the bottom of it…the bottom of him. She still wasn’t sure about him, although she wouldn’t voice her thoughts to Hal because he was on constant edge as it was about Kate’s going.

  Kate was standing now in her bedroom tying a long scarf around her bonnet. It had been freezing hard for the past week, but yesterday a slight thaw had set in, and although today wasn’t so cold there was a high wind blowing. She picked up her gloves from the dressing table then went out and down the shallow stairs to the hall. Tom was crossing it, and he said, ‘There’s a smell of snow in the wind, you might get caught.’

  ‘It won’t be the first time.’ And she smiled at him.

  ‘Brr!’ He pursed his lips. ‘Me for the fire. We’ve got the last of the sheep down. Aye’—he paused—‘that fellow of yours must be tough. Up on those hills would freeze the backside off a bull. I don’t know how he stands it; he doesn’t seem the rough type.’

  ‘Never judge the man by the suit, Tom.’

  ‘Aye, there’s something in that,’ he laughed, and went on towards the sitting room.

  In the kitchen she was surprised to see Maggie also ready for the road, and she looked at her. But Maggie did not give any explanation, it was Mary Ellen who said, ‘She’s taking some patterns for embroidery to Betty Boston, and carrying some butter and cheese from me. They appreciate home stuff.’ It was as if she was apologising for Maggie going visiting. Then she added, ‘Lass, you’ll be blown away up on those hills.’

  ‘I’m well wrapped up.’

  ‘Does he know you’re coming?’

  Kate hesitated for a moment before she said, ‘Yes, in a way, it being Wednesday.’

  ‘But what if he’s not there? He could be in the town seeing about a house again.’

  ‘Well, if that’s the case, I’ll only have to come back.’

  Mary Ellen stared at her for a moment, then said, ‘Well, time yourself. You don’t want to be caught up there in the dark, and there’s snow in the air.’

  ‘I’ll be back before dark, Mam.’ She nodded towards Mary Ellen, then went out.

  And Mary Ellen, looking at Maggie, said, ‘That goes for you too, mind. Don’t get chattin’ too long. And take the trap gently, we don’t want an axle broken. Go on now, and give Mrs Boston my regards.’

  Maggie said nothing, but lifted the parcel from the table and went out.

  Terry already had the trap into the yard and as he gave her a hand on to the seat he said, ‘Go careful, Miss Maggie, and don’t rush him; he’s been out once the day and he’s a bit fractious.’

  Again Maggie said nothing, but she cast a disdainful glance down on the man as he handed her the reins, which she jerked and put the pony into a trot whilst still in the farmyard, all the time asking herself why it was that everybody was getting at her, hiding the fact from herself that for the past five days she had been in a state of irritation. And the knowledge that the whole family knew the reason didn’t help.

  A month ago when Andrew Boston had been home for the weekend and hadn’t called on her, she accepted the excuse from his mother that he had only been able to stay overnight and had to leave early the next morning because of pressure of work in the office. Then on Saturday, on the road into Hexham, they had passed him on the brake accompanied by his father; she had waved to him and he had answered her salute. And after returning home she had waited for his visit, and again all day on the Sunday. But he hadn’t come, and she had been filled with indignation that touched on rage. She had felt humiliated.

  When on Monday, her mother had taken her aside and asked if he had spoken in any way and she’d had to admit truthfully that he hadn’t, Mary Ellen had said, ‘Well, as I see it, it’s your own fault. You act too bold, it puts them off.’ And this had caused her to retort angrily, ‘Me, act too bold! You don’t say that to our Kate, who’s the talk of the place running over the hills to that fellow every minute of the day. How often does he come here, I ask you? Too bold? My goodness me, Mam. It’s well seen who you are for and who you are against.’ And her mother had become angry and retorted that she’d never made flesh of one and fish of another, and that she should be glad Kate was going to find a little happiness.

  Kate! Kate! Kate! It was all Kate. Even Florrie and Charles were thrust into the background. Not that it seemed to affect Florrie, she was too slow to take in anything. Sweet natured, they called it. She jerked hard on the reins, but the pony did not respond and she cried
at it, ‘Get up, there!’

  At the crossroads, she turned her head and looked into the distance to where she could see the hills mounting upwards, but she caught no sight of Kate, and she thought, Terry would not tell her not to gallop Ranger because he had been out already today. Oh no, she could fly to her beloved. And she almost spat out the last word. She was a disgrace. Now, if it had been herself doing that, even attempting to do it, her father would have locked her up. But not so his Kate.

  The horse slowed down at the steep hill at the top of which the Bostons’ house was situated behind a barrier of trees, planted to shelter both house and garden from the winds that swept down over the hills beyond. It was as the horse slowly reached the top that she happened to glance to her left and was about to look ahead again when her head jerked round and she pulled the horse to a standstill. There, where the land sloped away to a valley bottom before rising again to the hills, was a treeless road, and on it was a figure on a horse, and unmistakably she recognised Kate. She’s not going up into the hills, she thought; she’s going to that house. And she said she never went. The big sly two-faced thing. Well!…

  It had been her intention to stay at the Bostons’ and enquire delicately when Andrew would be coming home again. But once more things did not go as she had intended, for Mrs Boston received her in a manner that held some reserve: she seemed surprised to see her, but thanked her most warmly for the gifts she had brought from her mother, while stating that Betty had gone to spend the day with friends in Haydon Bridge. Then without any prompting, she gave Maggie the information for which she had come: she did not know when Andrew would be next home, because he was spending most of his spare time now at the Quigleys’.

  Mr Quigley happened to be a dear friend of Mr Boston. She was so glad that Andrew was going there, it saved him the long journey home, and at the same time provided him with a family atmosphere, for they had three sons and a daughter, and Andrew had known them since they were all children together. And, she had ended, she would be pleased to see Maggie on the usual day for their sewing hour.

  She had been snubbed! Her teeth were clenched and her anger and humiliation were such that she wanted to lash out, and literally she did when she turned the horse in the direction of home.

  But it was when she again reached the crossroads that she drew the horse to a standstill and sat thinking for a moment before, with a ‘Get up, there!’ she turned it on to the narrow path along which she had seen Kate riding a little over half an hour ago.

  There was only one thing clear in her mind, she wanted to confront Kate and tell her to her face that she was a liar and was deceiving them at home.

  She did not drive the trap right up to the gate of the farm but led the horse on to the wide grass verge and linked the reins over a low branch of tree. Then cautiously she moved alongside the wall and to the gate, which she noted was a new double one, half of which was open. She noted, too, that all the yard was paved, whereas their own was only half done in this way; also that all the outhouses looked spruce with new stone tiles on the roof here and there.

  And in the row of horse boxes one half-door was open and she saw Ranger. She was actually amazed at the size of the house. It was the first time she had seen it, for since she was first allowed to go out on her own she had been told never to go near it; and in consequence it always appeared like the ogre’s castle. But now she could not help the materialistic side of her being impressed. She looked along to where the front of the house showed the door sheltered by a stone-pillared porch, but she did not go towards it. Going quietly, she went further into the yard and, keeping close to the wall, she passed two windows with iron bars across them, then a closed door, then two more windows, one of them looking into what appeared to be a large pantry, and the other just a small bare room. There was another door ahead, but before that there was a window, and standing to the side of it, she slowly turned her head and looked in. It was a kitchen, but it was empty even of furniture.

  She moved on to the door which was ajar. She pushed it open, her head making small wagging movements the while as she thought of the shock her sister would get, that’s if she was alone. She had caught sight only of Ranger, which would suggest that she was alone, and, also, that she had access to the house by a key. Oh, the sly individual. Just wait till she got home and told them.

  Almost boldly now she walked up the room towards a far door. But here she paused before opening it quietly. And now she was looking into a hall, the size and decoration of which amazed her. Slowly and still quietly she went in and she had almost reached the middle of it when the sound of voices brought her to a frozen stop; only her eyes moved and took in the number of doors going off the hall. Then her ears seemed to widen as she recognised Ben’s voice, and the tone with which he was speaking his endearments brought her eyelids blinking and her mouth into a gape, for they were words that she had dreamed someone would whisper to her. But as yet, no-one had. These words, though, weren’t being whispered: ‘My dearest one. My beloved,’ were being said aloud, and to, of all people, their Kate, a great big ungainly individual. If she had been wealthy or very accomplished she could have understood it, but in her opinion, the only word for her half-sister was homely, and she considered she was being kindly at that.

  Then her body bent slightly forward in the direction of the half-open doors across the hall to the right of her as his voice ended, saying, ‘All right, all right, my dearest. I promise you on my word of honour, I will this time settle a deal on the house, the one that lies beyond Corbridge, for neither of us would have any peace were I to insist that we live here. And it has been borne in on me more every time that I see him, how right you are that he must never know the truth. The whole business seems as alive to him now as it was when it happened all those years ago. He seems to become infuriated by the very name Bannaman, and as you say, darling, God knows what his reaction would be if he found out I was her son. But there, it will be as you wish. You will be Mrs Benedict Fraser Hamilton, of Briars Mount, in the County of Northumberland.’

  There followed a pause which Maggie filled in with her imagination, and then Kate’s voice came, saying, ‘And you won’t tell him about our proposed trip to America till after the wedding, will you?’

  ‘Not if you don’t wish it, darling.’

  There was another pause during which Maggie should have turned and fled, but the identity of Kate’s man and of Kate’s knowledge of his identity had filled her with such a feeling of amazement and even horror that she found it impossible to move.

  Then there they were, standing, arms about each other in the open doorway, staring at her, as amazed and even as horrified as she herself was.

  ‘Oh, dear Lord!’ Kate dropped her head back on her shoulders, closed her eyes and bit tightly on her lip. Then, bringing her head forward, she opened her mouth to speak, but in the effort it took Ben’s voice cut in coldly, ‘You were looking for someone, Maggie?’

  ‘Oh, you! You two. Imposter! That’s what you are, an imposter. And you’—she was spluttering as she glared at Kate—‘knowing who he was. Oh, you sly, sneaking dirty…’

  ‘Shut up!’ Kate pulled herself away from Ben’s hold and, advancing on Maggie, she said, ‘Well, now you know, and you’re happy, aren’t you? So get back home, fly, and tell them all, you mean-minded little brat, you. Go on!’ She half lifted her hand, then clenched her fist, and Maggie, stepping back from her, swallowed deeply before she cried, ‘Yes, yes, I will. I’m going, and just see what’ll happen to you then…and your friend. Friend, you used to say he was. You deceived everybody then, but to think you knew he was a Bannaman. Dad will kill him. Yes’—now she turned and glared at Ben—‘he’s capable of it. So look out, the both of you. And with this she turned and ran down the hall and through the kitchen, out into the yard, onto the road and along to the trap. And as she did so the first large flakes of snow began to fall. Once she had taken her seat, she whipped up the horse until the animal went into a gallop. It was a
lmost as Kate had said, she was flying home with the news…

  Back in the hall Ben, holding Kate in his arms, said, ‘Don’t tremble so, darling. Strange, but I knew all along it would have to come into the open, and perhaps it’s for the best.’

  ‘No! No!’ Her whole body moved in protest. ‘You don’t know him. The very name rouses him to anger. As she said, he would be capable of killing. Oh, Ben, Ben, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Well, he’s a sensible man, he should know what would happen if he started shooting.’

  ‘He wouldn’t care. Oh, Ben, you don’t know him, not like I do. I…I think he would have got over his father being murdered, but…but not what she did to him.’

  ‘Perhaps if I explained to him what she did to me, do you think it would help?’

  ‘No. No. Yet, it might, if you didn’t want to marry me.’

  ‘But I do want to marry you, and I’m going to marry you.’

  ‘Oh, Ben.’

  ‘Don’t say “Oh Ben” like that. You love me, don’t you?’

  ‘With all my heart, dear, with all my heart. You know that.’

  ‘Yes, yes I do, and so we will be married…Shall I come back with you now and get it over…’

  ‘No, no!’ She raised her hand as if warding off an invisible blow. ‘No, she will have had her say by the time I reach home, and then I shall have mine.’

  ‘And what will be your say?’

  ‘Just as you said, dear, that we shall be married. Sooner or later we shall be married. We will be married.’

  He said no more, but, putting his arms around her shoulders, he led her across the hall and into the kitchen and there, at the door, he said gently, ‘It’s snowing.’ Then taking her hands, he held them tightly to his chest as he said, ‘In a way, I’m glad it’s happened. It’s a weight off my mind. And now I needn’t sleep up in the shack any more.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I’ll stay here tonight, but first I’ll bring Daisy down and tomorrow morning I’ll go up and bring the goat down and the rest of my books and papers. The odds and ends of furniture can be left for the next tenant.’ And he ended by saying, ‘Shall I come over tomorrow?’