Larkrigg Fell

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘How terribly artistic of you. No other form of employment?’ The two girls’ eyes met and held.

  ‘Not at the moment,’ Tessa agreed. ‘No other visible means of support.’

  ‘How fortuitous that Meg is so generous then.’

  ‘You must be awfully clever,’ Beth butted in, hastening to soothe the bristling atmosphere, and Tessa laughed.

  ‘Don’t ever say that. I’m not clever at all. One of life’s dabblers, that’s me.’

  ‘Oh, I’d love to be able to draw.’

  ‘Drawing is only a part of it. It’s paint that’s the tricky medium. I love pastels myself.’

  As the two chatted on about art and pottery, Sarah set aside the cup with its tea that tasted of perfume and looked about her with open distaste. She’d never seen a room quite as messy as this one. Piles of dirty crocks, a tiled floor smeared with remnants of mud, and walls which probably hadn’t seen a lick of paint in a decade. Undoubtedly some might say it exuded comfort with its bunches of drying herbs, pretty dresser, and winking copperware in the wide inglenook. But one chair was covered in an old sheepskin rug and another seemed full of dog hairs. She turned up her nose and took care where she sat.

  ‘Are these your efforts?’ A bright abstract on the wall, a pencil drawing of a naked man and a bronze sculpture of an owl propping open a door which presumably led into the living room.

  ‘Do you approve?’

  ‘I know nothing of art.’ Sarah turned away, her body language clearly adding that she had no wish to learn, and pointedly studied the most notable feature of the room. One wall crowded with photographs of sheep and dogs, rosettes and certificates that filled every inch of space.

  ‘You seem to have landed on your feet here.’ There was an open challenge in the blunt statement but Tessa only half glanced at her as she dealt with the baby, laughing all the while.

  ‘I don’t deny it.’

  Since she offered no further defence, there seemed nothing more to say on the subject, so Sarah sat down on a hard wooden chair while Beth politely enquired where Tessa had lived when she was married.

  ‘Paul and I rented a cottage over by the quarry, but since he took everything but the sofa and the proverbial kitchen sink, there seemed little point in staying there.’

  ‘Why didn’t he take the sofa?’

  ‘Because it reminded him of the time I caught him necking with someone on it.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Beth thought Tessa barely seemed old enough to have had so much experience of life but the girl cast her a wry grin. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t bore you with talk of my pending divorce. I’m a free spirit at heart. Lone parenting holds no fears for me.’ She shaved the apricot gunge from James’s chin and stuffed it into his mouth. The baby smacked his lips and opened his mouth for more, rather like a small plump bird.

  ‘Just as well,’ said Sarah, grimacing.

  ‘The only thing I really miss is the telly. Meg doesn’t have one.’

  ‘What a pity!’

  ‘I was using it for my Open University course,’ Tessa replied, not rising to the dryness of Sarah’s tone. She finally scrubbed the baby’s face clean then lifted him from his chair and cuddled him close. James beamed, round face shining. ‘There we are, cherub. I’ll just put him down. Then we can talk.’ She paused at the door and looked from one to the other of the two girls. ‘Would you share a room or prefer to be separate?’

  The twins exchanged a quick glance. They hadn’t shared a room since they were small and didn’t much care for the idea. Tessa picked up their sense of unease.

  ‘It’s a big room, at the front. Separate beds. You won’t fall over each other.’

  ‘Sorry. It’s just that everybody expects us to be bosom pals, because we’re twins,’ Beth explained. ‘Only we’re really rather different. Not identical in any way.’.

  ‘And actually hate each other’s guts,’ Sarah laughed. Tessa waited for Beth to disagree with this blunt indictment of their relationship. When no argument came, she offered to make up beds in separate rooms and dashed off to settle her son in his cot.

  ‘We can’t say life isn’t interesting, can we pet?’ she asked him as she tucked in his sheet. ‘Never a dull moment here.’

  Half an hour later Meg and Tam arrived, bursting into the room in a swirl of fresh air and energy. With a squeal of delight Beth hugged them both. Sarah pecked a kiss on each proffered cheek.

  ‘It’s so lovely to see you again. I can’t quite believe it.’

  ‘How are you? Was the journey dreadful? Has Tessa looked after you?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Good. Oh, I’d kill for a cup of tea.’

  ‘Let me do that,’ Beth said, taking the teapot from her and pushing her gently down into a fireside chair. She thought how lovely her grandmother looked. The years had treated her kindly, for even at fifty-nine she was still a fine looking woman. Her skin might be weathered by an outdoor life but her face remained firm and beautiful. Her golden hair had grown pale but still shone like silk, and her grey eyes were as bright and alert as ever. But then, Beth thought, Meg loves life. ‘I think you’re wonderful,’ she said, popping a kiss on Meg’s brow. ‘You know we all love you. And we’re so glad to be here at last.’

  Meg laughed at this, pleased by the compliment. ‘And I’m delighted to have you, my sweethearts. Are we not Tam?’

  ‘Indeed we are. Just what we need to cheer us up. How can I object to lovely females about to wait on me hand and foot.’ He arranged his long legs comfortably as he sat in the rocking chair and everyone laughed. Then Meg got up and went to put a gentle hand on Beth’s shoulder.

  ‘Lissa wrote and told me how things didn’t work out for you. He clearly wasn’t the right man for you. Someone better will come along, I’m sure.’

  Beth felt suddenly raw and exposed, as if her inner feelings were on view to everyone. ‘I never wish to think of Jeremy ever again.’

  ‘That’s the ticket.’

  Or of his caressing hands and soft kisses, yet the memory continued to haunt her day and night. And the picture of him in bed with someone else sent her mad with despair. ‘Right now it’s hard to imagine I ever will. Find someone else, I mean. I really wouldn’t care to risk it. He can’t have loved me at all.’

  Meg kissed her cheek. ‘I understand how you feel. I was betrayed too, remember, by Jack Lawson, my first love. I thought I’d never recover, but I did. I still have the luckpenny that his father gave me. And I still have Broombank. Then I found Tam and perfect happiness. So there you are. Lakeland will make you well too.’

  A soft laugh and the two were hugging and Beth was mopping up tears and blowing her nose, insisting that really she was fine. ‘Sarah likes it here too, don’t you Sarah? Though she wasn’t too sure at first.’

  Sarah thought of the empty, lonely landscape, the drizzling rain, the bleak grey-walled house they’d so briefly glimpsed and forced a smile. ‘It will certainly be different,’ she said. ‘Mind you, a warmer welcome would have been nice.’

  A stunned silence filled the room as all eyes turned upon her. Beth’s heart sank. Trust Sarah to put everyone’s backs up from the word go.

  ‘My fault,’ Tessa hastily put in. ‘I’ve already said how sorry I am to have-missed them at the station.’

  Meg smiled, shrewdly judging it unwise to pursue whatever was causing these two to cut sparks off each other. ‘Everything has seemed to go wrong this week. May in general has been a disaster. Let’s hope June, with the Jubilee Celebrations, is better. We’re planning a big party to which you are all invited.’

  ‘Great!’ said Sarah drily.

  Meg met her granddaughter’s sulky gaze with a speculative lift of one brow. ‘We must try to make up for our neglect, mustn’t we? Though warmth, I’ve always thought, needs to flow two ways.’

  It was a blessed relief to everyone that the Thursday of the Jubilee celebrations dawned to a pale lacy mist that rolled off the hills, revealing a burning bright day. The s
cent of new grass was strong on the hills and meadow pipits feasted on the insects which flew up as the three girls passed by.

  This was meant to be a family day with races, wrestling, dog trials and all the usual country events. ‘Plus a parade of the queens,’ Meg told them. ‘Everyone who cares to join in the fun must dress in period costume.’ Meg and her sister-in-law, Sally Ann, had been sewing for weeks for this day.

  ‘Count me out,’ Sarah had protested.

  ‘Oh, don’t be a spoilsport,’ Tessa had challenged her.

  They’d settled, in the end, for a vaguely pastoral look with soft muslin blouses pulled off the shoulder, flowers in their hair and about their necks, wrists clinking with beaded bracelets. Even baby James was decked out in a flowered bow tie and red dungarees. They all looked fresh and young and very lovely.

  From down in the dale came a hum of activity on the clear fresh air. Marquees carried jaunty flags, stall holders jostled cheerily for space. Children ran about, whistles, barks and happy laughter. The farming community in their best frocks and setting-off suits were enjoying themselves as only dalesfolk can. This was as good as a holiday to them.

  ‘They’ve been holding this sort of sport’s day since before the war,’ Tessa told the twins, hitching the baby higher on her hip. ‘And the Cumberland and Westmorland wrestling for a hundred years or more. We usually have it at the end of July but we’ve tucked in an extra day for the Jubilee.’

  ‘How terribly exciting,’ Sarah commented. ‘I can hardly wait.’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ Beth urged. ‘Stop grumbling. Let’s have some fun.’

  ‘You might enjoy it if you’d only stop looking down your nose,’ Tessa said and stepped out more briskly, ignoring Sarah’s gasp of fury.

  Beth and Tessa giggled and set off at a gallop, the baby shrieking with excitement as they bounced down the hill; at great risk from toppling over as they ran, since they wore platform-soled shoes, more suited to a day in town than out on the fells. But the ground was dry and hard today with not a sign of rain and, pastoral peasants or not, they wished to be stylish. By the time Sarah came running to join them, flushed and breathless, the moment of disagreement had passed.

  They found Sally Ann, ably assisted by her daughter-in-law, Jan, manning a hot-dog stand serving spicy Cumberland sausages on long bread rolls. It was a lovely excuse for them each to buy one. Even James was allowed a small piece and at once got ketchup all over his snub nose.

  ‘Nick’s over at the sheepdog trials with Meg and Tam,’ Jan explained, laughingly trying to mop up the dribbles. ‘You’d best go and admire their efforts later.’

  The girls promised that they would.

  ‘Meg says you’re to have a good time, all of you,’ Sally Ann warned them, a twinkle in her eyes, set like bright buttons in her plump pink face. ‘So leave the bairn with us old uns.’

  ‘Don’t you mind?’

  ‘We’ll spoil him rotten. You enjoy yourselves.’

  Tessa grinned. ‘Oh, we intend to.’

  And indeed she was right for it did prove to be a most enjoyable day. They watched the hounds set off on their aniseed trail, flying through the bracken, tails waving, their owners trying to outshout each other as they urged their animals on. They marvelled at the men who were so fit they could run up the fell a thousand feet or more and return only slightly out of breath at the end of it. They admired Jan’s daughter, Alice, who as Boadicea headed the long procession of queens, which represented every female monarch right up to the present day.

  And of course they cheered on Tam and Nick at the sheepdog trials before going to find Meg who, sensibly clad in tweed skirt, waistcoat and trilby hat, was judging a pet show for a group of hopeful, bright-eyed children.

  ‘Never be a judge,’ she warned with a sad shake of her head and a wide smile. ‘Bound to upset someone. I can only hope that these young people, who all belong to my friends, will be generous with my decision. Though somehow I doubt it.’

  The girls wished her luck and as one recalcitrant pet duck escaped to be chased across the field by its young owner, they went away laughing, though with immense sympathy for Meg’s plight.

  Throughout the day Tessa introduced them to dozens of people who all seemed interested to meet them.

  ‘Hey up, who do we have here?’

  ‘You must be Lissa’s girls. Well, fancy that.’

  ‘I can see ‘oo you two are. Spitting image o’ your mam. How is she then?’

  ‘By heck, you two lasses have grown. Thee were no more’n bairns when I saw thee last.’

  ‘Staying with our Meg for a bit, are you? Aye, she’ll spoil you right enough.’

  And so on, until the twins were dizzy with all the questions and even Sarah felt thoroughly welcomed into the small community. ‘They’re all so friendly,’ Beth said.

  ‘It’s being such a quiet place, everyone knows everyone else here and newcomers always excite interest. But you can consider yourself honoured. Dalesfolk aren’t always so quick to make friends. They like to weigh people up first, make sure you’ll fit in and not try to interfere with their way of life, or damage the countryside which they treasure above all things.’

  ‘Oh, I’d never do that.’ It made Beth feel pleased and hopeful about the future. How lovely to be a part of this world. And she still had Larkrigg Hall to look forward to.

  But she soon forgot about the house as Tessa took them over to watch the wrestling.

  ‘Cumberland and Westmorland style wrestling is reputed to go right back to the Vikings,’ she explained and added with a chuckle, as most things do around here. No punching or bullying allowed. It’s not so much size as strength that counts, and some pretty canny thinking.’

  A group of men were gathering around a green sward of grass, not roped off in any way but clearly selected as the ideal spot. The older men were smart in their best suits, hair slicked back while many of the younger ones were in shirt and jeans.

  ‘Now this is what I call talent,’ Sarah said, running a practised eye over the assembled company.

  ‘They’ve certainly had their porridge,’ Tessa agreed, laughing.

  ‘Good for wrestlers, is it, porridge?’

  ‘It does no harm. Ah, there’s Andrew. Andrew Barton from Cathra Crag. I’ll introduce you later.’ Tessa indicated one young man with fair, fly away hair that flopped disarmingly over a broad forehead. His cheerful face lit with a wide smile when he saw her and he nodded as Tessa waved happily back.

  ‘Well, well,’ Sarah said. ‘Friend of yours is he?’

  ‘We go a long way back. Went to school together.’

  ‘Hm. Good muscles.’

  ‘It’s the farming which does that. If they can lift a ewe, they can “take hold”, that is wrestle,’ Tessa explained, laughing.

  Beth glanced covertly at the young man from beneath her lashes, trying not to be too obvious but curious to see what kind of man Tessa favoured. Dressed in open-necked shirt and jeans he looked relaxed and friendly, the kind of man any girl would be glad to know. But he wasn’t looking in Tessa’s direction at all. His eyes, unsurprisingly, were on Sarah.

  Beth sighed, feeling strangely deflated.

  Chapter Three

  Andrew Barton stood tall and straight, lightly built but with well muscled arms and shoulders. His lean, almost boyish face and pale grey eyes were entirely engrossed in taking instructions from a small, older man with pink-tipped ears beneath a dark basin-cut hair style. As if sensing Beth’s interest, he half turned and looked directly into her eyes. For a long moment their gaze held and for the life of her she couldn’t break away. Then he smiled and, faintly flustered, she turned quickly away, embarrassed by her own curiosity.

  He went into a small white tent and after some moments returned, dressed in a white silk sleeveless vest and pants tucked into black stockings. Over these he wore velvet briefs, very finely embroidered with swirls and flowers.

  ‘Don’t you dare giggle,’ Tessa hissed into her ear. ‘This
is a traditional costume. Serious stuff.’

  And so it seemed. Moving forward, the two opponents shook hands then grasped each other around the back, each man placing his chin on the other’s right shoulder.

  ‘This is the hold which makes this kind of wrestling distinctive,’ Tess whispered. ‘They rarely hurt each other. The object is to get their opponent to take three falls.’

  The two men were stamping their stocking feet, set well apart for good balance. They made strange little grunting sounds as they moved round and round.

  ‘Good God,’ Sarah said, ‘They look like a four-legged beast.’

  ‘They might only seem slim and wiry but some of these men are so tough I wouldn’t care to get on the wrong side of them.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind a tackle.’ The grey streaks in Sarah’s violet eyes sparkled with interest. Beth said nothing, but her own gaze was fastened upon the two figures in their strange balletic stance.

  The match lasted for some time, as several throws failed. Then Andrew slid his hip under the other man’s stomach and using it as a lever, threw him over his shoulder. She couldn’t help but cry out when both men hit the ground but Andrew had won the fall. He took one himself next when the other man struck his legs out from beneath him. They heaved and panted and swung about and the girls became completely engrossed, willing Andrew to win. The men rolled and bounced and Beth wondered how many bruises they suffered, despite the lushness of the green turf.

  ‘He needs one more fall,’ Tessa murmured and Beth cast her a surreptitious glance. Her first impressions must have been correct. Tessa did have a soft spot for this Andrew Barton. Again she felt an odd sinking of her heart as she noted Sarah’s equally avid interest.

  Moments later it was all over. Andrew brought his rival to his knees and down he went. A great cheer went up and the older man hurried forward to slap Andrew on the back with great gusto.