A Dinner of Herbs (The Bannaman Legacy)

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘Mam.’ He stopped her stalling. ‘I don’t want to talk of Joe Hodgson’s doings, or what Dad intended to do, I want to talk about me and my life ahead here. I’ll come straight to the point. I’m seeing the parson on Sunday with regard to the banns. I’m marrying Yvonne, Mam, no matter what you or anybody else thinks. If I can’t marry her here, then’—he paused and turned his gaze to the side now—‘I’ll marry her someplace else.’

  He watched her close the ledger, push it to one side, then draw a letter towards her, unfold it, and spread the corners out with her fingers before saying further, ‘You know what you’re doing to me, Mam. You’re checkering me life. I’ve never known any real happiness until I met her. From then I’ve sort of come alive; I know there’s something else besides a fourteen-hour day grind. At least there’s something for me at the end of it, not just the unhealthy prospect of waiting for Dad dying so I can take over, and, as things were, that could have been years ahead. But even as they are now, his toughness could keep him going for God knows how long.’

  ‘John! For you to talk like that.’

  ‘Mam, face up to facts. For God’s sake, face up to facts!’

  She pulled herself up from the chair and, leaning her hands on the desk, she bent towards him and hissed, ‘I am. I’m the one that’s facing up to facts, and the fact is you’re expecting me to spend the rest of my life with that bit of a lass who reminds me every time me eyes rest on her, not only from where she springs, but for what she’s brought on this house.’

  ‘She’s brought nothing on this house, Mam.’ His voice was loud now. ‘Whatever has come about, Dad is responsible for. As Kate said, he’d been wanting to do something to a Bannaman for years. He was baulked in doing it to Ben. Ben saved his life or else God knows what might have happened. In the face of that he had to change his tune. But from the day that lad was born, from the very first sight of his black hair and dark eyes, Dad loathed him, because he saw the Bannaman man, whoever he was, and his daughter, the woman who was supposed to torture him.’

  ‘No suppose about it.’ She was yelling at him now. ‘She did, and tried to murder him in the process.’

  ‘Well, he got his own back, didn’t he? He murdered a young lad. And now he’s paying the price.’

  With a thud she dropped back into the chair, saying, quietly now, ‘Is that how you see your father?’

  And as quietly he answered, ‘Yes, Mam, that’s how I see my father. Because I’ve recognised for years that, latent in him, was a deep hatred, a feeling of revenge. His blustering couldn’t cover it up. But now all this is in the past, it’s beside the point. It’s the future I’m putting to you, Mam, my future and Yvonne’s. For marry we will, and if you don’t change your attitude towards her and accept her into the household, then your life is going to be as miserable as you yourself make it. I’ve thought things out. I’ll have a couple of rooms built on the west side and take in two of the bedrooms from the end up above. That’ll give us a place of our own and you won’t have to see her more than you need. And you’ll need help in the house. I’ve already thought about that. There’s the Conway twins. One won’t stay without the other. Well, you’ll need two lasses here to train up. They’re sixteen and hard-working. Maggie had a word with them some time ago. They are more than willing to leave their place in Hexham. They don’t like it, they want to be in the open air again, to be brought up in the wilds, so to speak. So there you are, there’s the plan as I see it for the future.’

  ‘In the name of God!’ Mary Ellen turned her head slowly to the side and looked down the room, and as if addressing someone at the far end, she said, ‘That it should come to this. Me lifetime’s work should come to this. I’ve got to be told who’s coming into me house. I’ve been given an ultimatum. It’s a good job me mind’s still clear and I still have the reins in me hand, else I’ll be put into the workhouse.’ She now turned and looked fully at John, ending, ‘I can’t believe it. I can’t believe all this is happening to me. I just can’t.’ Her voice broke; then on a high note that was almost like a thin scream, she said, ‘Get out! Get out of me sight. Go! Go on, go on.’

  And he went out and stood in the hall, his hand to his head. And when Maggie saw him standing like this she went up to him, saying gently, ‘Rough?’

  He brought his hand slowly down over his face as if attempting to pull down a shutter, but he didn’t speak, he just made a helpless motion and turned from her.

  Maggie stood looking towards the office door as she thought, Thank God, in a little while it’ll be all over. We’ll clinch it this afternoon. Then once I’ve broken in the two lasses, I’ll be gone. We’ll be gone. And she wondered if she should go and remind her mother that she was going out this afternoon, but decided to leave it for a while, she’d just had a do with John. She’d talk to her when she took her father’s tray up…

  It was two hours later when she went upstairs carrying the bowl of beef tea. As he could only swallow liquids this was his main form of nourishment. She knew she would find her mother sitting at the bedside talking to him. It was weird. She herself didn’t believe he understood a word that was said to him, but her mother was convinced that he was aware of everything. The doctor had said it could be so or it couldn’t be so; there was no way of telling unless he made some sign.

  Outside the door, she heard the mumble of her mother’s voice, and when she opened it she was saying, ‘This is one thing I won’t be able to stand, Hal. I won’t. I won’t.’

  She turned as Maggie put the tray on the table to her side, and when, her voice low, Maggie said, ‘Remember, Mam, I’m going out this afternoon over to the place. It’s the settling day. I’m going to get ready now,’ Mary Ellen said nothing, she just watched her daughter go from the room after having calmly told her she was going out of her life, was leaving her, leaving her with that chit downstairs. Oh, no, no, no. No! The last word was like a scream in her head and she jumped up from her chair and rushed to the door, to see Maggie going into her room, and she burst in on her, crying, ‘Maggie! Maggie!’ Then came to a dead stop, and Maggie, her mouth agape, said, ‘What is it, Mam? What is it? Dad?’

  Mary Ellen shook her head. Her lips opening and shutting, her breath now coming in great gasps, she cried, ‘Maggie. Maggie don’t leave me. For God’s sake, don’t leave me!’ And with that and tears spurting from her eyes, she threw her arms around her daughter and clung to her crying, ‘Lass! Lass! For God’s sake! Have pity on me and don’t leave me!’

  Maggie could never remember her mother putting her arms around her. Whenever her hand had touched her it had been in the form of a push, and she had never forgotten the blows she received the day she had brought the news of Ben’s relationship to the Bannamans. And now here she was being held by her and she was listening to her pleading through tearing sobs, ‘Lass! Lass! I’ll do anything, anything you say, only don’t go. Let him go. Let him go to France with her, only you stay with me. And Willy. Yes, and Willy. ‘

  Slowly Maggie raised her arms and put one hand on her mother’s hair, saying, ‘There now, quiet yourself, Mam. Come and sit down. Come and sit down.’ And as she did so she thought of Annie, because two days before she had dropped down dead in the kitchen she had said those very words to her. She had had a row with her mother and when Mary Ellen had stormed out of the kitchen, Annie had put her arms around her shoulders and led her to the settle, and she had added, ‘Aw lass, aw lass, I know how you feel, in a way we are both in the same boat.’ It was as if she was linking them in spinsterhood.

  When they were both sitting side by side on the bed, Maggie lifted up her mother’s apron and rubbed it round her face, saying, ‘There now, there now. Stop it; you’ll make yourself ill.’ Never before had she seen her mother cry, nor in this fashion anyway. When Peg and Walter went all those years ago, she had wept, but not like this. And now she found her hands gripped, her mother was holding them tight against her chest, begging, ‘You won’t, will you, Maggie? You won’t?’

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nbsp; ‘Mam’—Maggie’s voice was quiet—‘Willy’s already paid some money down and we’re settling the rest this afternoon. It’s all cut and dried.’

  She watched her mother now bow her head, then toss it from side to side as she said, ‘It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter about the money. Buy it, buy it, then sell it, only don’t…don’t go. For God’s sake, girl, don’t go! Who have I got left but you? The others don’t give a damn. There’s Hugh and Gabriel can’t get back to that town quick enough; Tom’s living his own life very much so; as for Florrie and Charles, they moved into another world. Oh, they’re polite and attentive when they come, I know, but they’re moving now higher up, at least she is, he’s taking her there. And John. Oh John. I’d never have thought it, not of John, but if I want him to stay I’ve got to take her. And…and Maggie, Maggie, I can’t. You know what I’d do if I was left alone with her? I’d finish off Hal. I would, I would, then take meself along with him. There’s herbs and things.’

  ‘Shut up, Mam. Don’t say such things.’

  ‘I am saying them, Maggie. I am saying them.’

  ‘But Mam, there’s not only myself now, there’s Willy, and where Willy goes, I go.’

  ‘I’ll see Willy. He’s…he’s got a sure job here.’

  At this Maggie pulled herself from her mother’s hold and along the bed and, her tone and her expression altering, she said, ‘Oh no, Mam, Willy doesn’t just want a job. Willy’s got the chance this day of starting his own farm, the same as you and Dad started years ago. Willy’s worth something more than a cowman’s position, or even that of foreman. Willy wants his own place, and so do I, Mam.’ She pushed her face forward now towards her mother. ‘Do you know, I’ve had nothing in me life. Do you know that, Mam? I’ve been an unpaid servant in this house. I…I haven’t even had the compensation of affection.’

  ‘Aw, lass.’

  ‘Don’t say it, Mam, don’t make any excuses now, not at this late day. We’re facing up to things at this minute, so let’s stick to the truth. It was Kate, Kate, Kate for years, and Florrie. Oh, yes, your dear, sweet Florrie. And your sons, wonderful, wonderful sons. But Maggie? Oh, Maggie was a thorn in the flesh. Maggie had a sharp tongue which got bitter over the years. And why, Mam? Because I…I was never loved. Strange, but there’s always one in a family that’s never loved, and I happen to be that one. Yes, I was the best looker and the best chatterer, the best entertainer for the company, but I was without love. Now I’ve found it, Mam, such as I’ve never imagined. It seems that I’m being paid for all the empty years in that way. Do you know how much money I have, Mam, for all the work I’ve put in this house for you? Thirty-six pounds, eight shillings. The rest of me wealth consists of a bit of jewellery, not worth much, and some clothes. So, Mam, when I leave here, I’m not losing anything, am I?’

  ‘Maggie! Maggie! For God’s sake, don’t talk like that. I’ll give what you want.’

  ‘’Tisn’t what I want, Mam, it’s what Willy needs, what Willy expects out of life, what he’s willing to work for. He wants a place of his own.’

  ‘He can have a place of his own, lass. I’ll see to it. I’ll see to it. I promise you. He can run the place and hire hands. I’ll leave it strictly to him, I promise you.’

  When Maggie didn’t answer but stared at her, she whimpered, ‘Maggie, Maggie, please, think on it. Ask him, ask Willy to come and see me.’

  As Maggie rose from the bed, her mother caught at her hand, beseeching, ‘Please.’

  ‘I’ll have to see what he says, Mam.’

  ‘Tell him to come and see me, lass. He…he can make his own terms. He can, he can.’

  Maggie looked down on to the swimming face. The pale eyes were blurred with tears, they were running unheeded from her chin. This was her mother as she had never seen her before. This was her mother who needed her…simply because she hadn’t anybody else. Nevertheless, she needed her, and because she hadn’t anybody else she needed her with more strength, with more longing than if she had had the others around her. And she knew in this moment she couldn’t leave her. She had said Willy could state his terms, and by God, yes, he would, and she would lay the terms out for him to state.

  She nodded now, ‘I’ll be back, Mam, shortly.’

  Out of the room, she ran down the landing, down the stairs across the hall, out into the yard, calling, ‘Willy! Willy!’

  Willy did not appear, but John came from a loose box leading a big shire, and she called to him, ‘Have you seen Willy?’

  ‘He was ploughing the low bent a while ago. He should be finished now.’

  She made to run down the yard in the direction of the fields, when she stopped and, scampering back to him, she caught hold of his arm and shook it as she said, ‘You can be free. You can go to France. You and Yvonne, you can be free.’

  ‘What? What are you saying?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when I get back.’ With this she picked up her skirt and tore down the yard, round the haystacks, round by the hen crees, climbed a five-barred gate, ran round the perimeter of two fields where the cows were grazing. Then she saw Willy handling the two shires up the plough. He had just reached the corner of the field on the last furrow when her cry came to him, and he pulled the horses to a stop with a ‘Whoa, there!’ and a ‘Stay!’ and went to meet her, saying, ‘What is it? What is it, lass? Why you running like that? You shouldn’t.’

  And now to his open-mouthed astonishment, she gabbled at him, ‘Which would you rather have, Willy? Morton House or this place?’ And she flung her two arms wide.

  ‘What’s the matter, lass? What’s the matter with you? What do you mean?’

  Gabbling again, she told him what had transpired between her and her mother, and now, her voice slowing, she said, ‘She needs me. I’ve never thought to see her like that, pleading almost on her knees. But…but it’s up to you, Willy, it’s up to you.’

  He turned and looked at the two shires and the land about him, and he said slowly, ‘Has she said this’ll be…ours?’

  ‘As much, but—’ Her voice now taking on a hard tone she added, ‘Whatever she says, I won’t let it rest there. Oh, no, no. People can change once they think they’ve got you. Whatever happens everything will go in writing to the last detail.’

  ‘Aw, lass, lass.’ As he thrust out his arms, she flung hers about him and they held tightly, and he muttered on half a laugh, ‘Have you told her about next Saturday?’

  ‘No, not yet. One thing at a time. But she won’t mind that now. Well, well’—she laughed into his face—‘I don’t want me name up altogether, I’ll have to marry the man, won’t I?’

  ‘You know something, Maggie?’

  ‘No, Willy.’

  ‘You’re a wonderful woman.’

  ‘You know something, Willy?’

  ‘No. What, Maggie?’

  ‘You’re a wonderful man, and how I love you is past description.’

  After they had kissed, long and hard, he looked round him with a laugh and said, ‘I wonder if ever this has happened in a ploughed field afore?’

  ‘I wonder. Anyway, bring them back’—she nodded towards the horses—‘and tidy up. Then come in, and we’ll talk.’

  ‘You’re going to stay then, Willy? Oh thank you, thank you. I’m grateful, and you’ll—’ She was about to go on when Maggie interrupted, ‘There’s conditions, Mam, and they’ve got to be settled.’

  ‘Yes, lass, yes. What kind of conditions?’

  ‘John’s going with Yvonne to France, isn’t he?’ Mary Ellen sighed, then said, ‘Yes, yes, I’ve told him, the road’s open if he wants to take it that way.’

  ‘Well, then, as I see it, Tom’s well set, so is Hugh, and Gabriel.’ She did not mention Kate. ‘None of them have any real claim on this place because none of them has ever worked for it, except Gabriel for a few years. So, as I see it, if we have to come here for the rest of our lives, the farm should come to me…us, when anything happens to you. But I hope that’s many, many a long year ah
ead. But in the meantime, I’d want it stated that we have a share with yourself in the place, and…and I’d want it in writing.’

  ‘In writing, lass?’ Mary Ellen’s face was screwed up as if in surprise.

  ‘Yes, in writing, Mam, legally, so there’d be no mistake, no changing of minds on either of our parts. We couldn’t walk out, no more than you could change your mind, if it’s in writing.’

  Mary Ellen looked from one to the other and there returned to her eyes a spark that had been in the young girl’s face, and the woman’s, a spark that signalled determination to hang on to what was hers. But as quickly as it had come, it faded, and, bowing her head, she said, ‘Just as you say, lass. Just as you say.’

  There was an impulse in Maggie to rush forward and put her arms about this woman who was now acting like a stranger, so soft was her manner, and say, It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, Mam. We’ll take each other’s word for it. But she was wise enough to know that characters didn’t change entirely, they were only shaped temporarily by the circumstances, and that her mother could one day rise from this apathy. Perhaps when her life’s partner had gone, and she had to fill her mind with something else, perhaps then, her dominant nature would rise once more, for she could never imagine her mother remaining the beaten creature she was now. So there had to be a safeguard.

  Her mother now looked at Willy and said, ‘Yes, perhaps, it’s just as well, as Maggie says. Perhaps you could have a talk with Hugh.’

  ‘No, Mam, not Hugh. It’s better not to have anyone in the family deciding on what’s to be done. That Mr Brown Dad deals with, he could see to it.’

  ‘All right, Maggie, all right.’

  ‘Mrs Roystan.’

  ‘Yes, Willy?’

  ‘I must tell you straight and be open about it, I’d been looking forward to having me own place, but now that things have turned out the way they have, I can promise you I will give you of my best. Sharers, partners, or no, I’ll try to make up to you for those you have lost.’