Northern Spirit

by Lindsey J Carden

  David shut his eyes as the train rattled on, and he thought about the boy at the football match and guessed he would be at school today. He reflected on how protective he’d been towards the boy, and was glad. At least he’d found some love in himself, unlike the harsh and selfish manner of his father. David was even grateful to the boy’s father for the smack in the face, as it had awakened his senses. He opened his eyes and smiled; Tony was asleep, resting his head on his shoulder.

  The brotherly love Tony had shown, had confirmed their friendship for one another. David knew he wouldn’t always be there for him as Tony would, someday, have to move on. They hadn’t bonded any closer; that was impossible. But he did understand his friend a bit better and knew he should try and give him something back.

  *

  They walked into the farmhouse kitchen and at the sight of her son’s injured face, Kathy dropped the basket of washing she was carrying onto the floor.

  ‘Don’t worry Mrs Keldas. We’ve only had a fight, been thrown out of our hotel and spent a night under the pier.’

  Alan, spoke up. ‘You’ve had a good time then?’

  David went over to his mother and hugged her, nearly taking all the breath from her. ‘We’ve had a brilliant time,’ he softly replied.

  ‘My goodness! What on earth’s happened?’ Kathy brushed David’s cheek with her hand and made him flinch.

  ‘We were at the wrong end of the stadium… . They thought we were Man U supporters… . David dragged me out, before I started a riot!’ Tony was enthusiastic with his fabricated story.

  David lowered his head and removing himself from the lie, went upstairs to unpack, pulling from his bag the presents he’d bought, and putting the chalk images to one side, ready for the children when they came home from school. He took out the glass snow scene and shook it to watch the snowflakes fall and settle down on the tiny beach. He held the glass close to his eyes and let himself be mesmerised by the tinsel as it danced and sparkled, taking him back to another world of magic. And the memories brought back a sweet taste to his mouth – fish and chips that tasted of sand and sea. He gave a wry smile and put the snow scene on his bookcase; he wouldn’t give it to Joanne; that would be a mistake.

  7

  SLOW FEVER

  Tony Milton walked down the hill to the bungalow, with his overnight bag hanging loosely over his shoulder. As he walked he scuffed his soft brown boots carelessly in the gravel road; carefree, happy and singing out loud. He didn’t care who heard him, in fact, he hoped somebody would. He was a true extrovert and loved the sound of his own voice, especially when it echoed around the Lakeland valleys.

  He threw his bag down on the kitchen floor and went straight to the tap for a cold drink. But, in a matter of seconds, Joanne was there beside him, looking tired and sullen as she coldly muttered, ‘You sound happy.’

  ‘Oh I am!’ Tony leant back on the kitchen sink to drink his water. ‘Why aren’t you at work, Jo?’

  ‘What’s it to you?’

  ‘It won’t make any difference to my life whether you go to work or not but it could make a lot of difference to yours!’

  ‘I couldn’t care less,’ she said.

  Tony picked up his bag to go to his room. He’d had a good weekend and he was happy and he didn’t want his sister to destroy these feelings, but Joanne shouted back at him. ‘What did you do then?’

  ‘Oh … this and that.’

  ‘Come on… . Don’t irritate me. What did you do?’

  ‘You mean what did David do?’

  The friction between brother and sister had begun well before Tony ever left for Blackpool. They had argued more recently and especially the few days earlier. Joanne blamed him for taking David away, and she knew he would try his best to see that David met up with some other girl and, in this case, she wasn’t wrong.

  Tony didn’t really want to hurt Joanne, but he was no psychologist, he was a straightforward guy. But all these questions and him having to play the mediator, was just getting out of hand.

  Tony was pleased with himself in the way he’d handled David’s distress. He knew only too well what a strain David had been under, but perhaps hadn’t realised how much it had affected him. When David had displayed such heartfelt emotion, it had touched him deeply and he’d found it hard to hold back the tears himself, and had to wipe his own cheek dry while he was comforting David. He guessed that things would soon be sorted in David’s family life, and hoped they could all get back to as they were before; they just had to.

  But Joanne couldn’t leave it as she glared at him. ‘If you won’t tell me what you did, then I’ll go and ask Davey.’

  ‘Now don’t you go bothering him.’ Tony pointed his finger at her. ‘Just leave it!’

  ‘Davey will tell me everything. I’m going to see him now.’ And with that she started to leave, but he got to the door first and pushed it hard shut, almost trapping her hand.

  ‘Leave him be, Jo.’

  *

  David had tried not to think about the farm while he was away, but with renewed zeal, he wandered across to the dairy to look at the milk receipts. He’d purposely waited until Alan left, as he didn’t want him to feel he was checking up on him; he knew what that felt like. So when David saw the shiny, blue and silver bulk tanker arriving in the yard to collect the day’s milk, he thought it a good time to go and check.

  ‘The milk’s down a bit again, Davey,’ the driver said.

  ‘I thought as much. What was Saturday morning’s reading?’ David looked anxiously at the slips of paper, flicking them in his hand.

  ‘That was down a bit as well.’

  David remembered that the cattle hadn’t milked so well the Friday night before he left for Blackpool and he knew he couldn’t blame Alan for that. He looked in the milking parlour and found it as untidy as he expected. The glass milk jars were grubby and the floor didn’t look like it had been swilled down properly. David decided to leave it for now and have a good tidy up session before the evening’s milking. He wandered into the foldyard where the cattle seemed clean and content, munching on hay, but over in the corner he saw Silver standing alone.

  Silver should have been at her peak by now, but David thought on Friday she hadn’t given as much milk as usual, and that would explain the drop in the bulk quantity. He would have to watch her. He didn’t want to make another error of judgement, but later that evening, David noticed a drop in Silver’s milk yield again. She was also jumpy and irritable and tried to kick him as he handled her. Her coat was dull and she ate very little.

  He couldn’t see any swelling in her udder that would show she had mastitis, and there were no other apparent reasons for her sickness, although he did have an idea what might be wrong, he needed some advice to be sure, so David decided to call the vet straight away.

  Over the phone, Barry Fitzgerald reassured David and said he would come in the morning if there were still no improvement and at next morning’s milking, Silver was just the same. David tried not to let this worry him. He knew with animals, life was unpredictable; in fact, through all the last few months of trauma, the cattle were the last things he’d worried about.

  David felt refreshed today. He’d slept well and found it hard to rouse himself when the alarm went off. He rang Barry early enough to catch him before he went on his rounds and arranged a visit. Kathy was happy to see David talking confidently on the telephone, at ease, and once again taking an interest in his work.

  He put Silver in the isolation box ready for Barry and did some jobs around the buildings to be on hand when he eventually called. There was no hiding behind closed curtains today.

  When Barry arrived, it was about 11 o’clock and the first thing he noticed was that the yard gate was closed again and he had to send Hannah out to open it.

  David saw the young woman struggling with the latch and felt compelled to help. But it wasn’t until he was close, that he recognised Hannah. He saw the large brown eyes and long lashes and was str
uck by her appearance; no longer did she look boyish and her auburn hair had grown as it curled attractively around her neck.

  As Hannah struggled to open the latch on the gate, David put his hand playfully across hers to help. ‘Here, let me do that for you.’ And with the broad smile on his face, Hannah noticed for the first time the countenance of an attractive man, and was momentarily taken aback. Then, not wanting her heart to tell her she’d misjudged him, she searched David’s features, looking at his clean white teeth and noticed one of his teeth was crooked and slightly prominent. Next she saw the surgical sutures on his lip and she pulled away from him.

  Hannah hadn’t wanted to come to this place again. When Barry’s receptionist had told them to call at the Keldas farm, she’d tried to dismiss herself by claiming the office needed tidying up. And, when they’d arrived at Keld Head, the structure and architecture of the place chilled her. She’d only ever seen the farm by night or at a distance from the main road but in daylight, every piece of stone appeared to jump out at her, and she realised it wasn’t just David that she felt uneasy with.

  Barry too had noticed David’s injury and didn’t like to ask what had happened, but he also saw his manner was more like the one of old, as David enthusiastically shook Barry’s hand and even offered his hand again to Hannah. And this time she reluctantly accepted it.

  Reassured by David’s mood, Barry broached the subject of his battered face, and David tried to give the same explanation Tony had given his mother. ‘Football match … . The Kop… Need I say any more?’

  ‘Hmm … supporting the wrong team, eh?’ Barry raised one eyebrow. ‘So what about this beast then?’

  ‘Yes, I think she may have Slow Fever.’

  ‘And what are the symptoms?’

  ‘Drop in milk yield - lethargy - eating very little,’ and then looking straight at Hannah he continued, ‘and irritable.’

  Hannah rolled her eyes at David’s flippant remark and was incensed. Barry wanted to laugh at his guile, and knew this would irritate Hannah even more, but not wanting to give another lesson in communication skills, immediately brought the subject back to the cattle.

  ‘Right then… . let’s take a look at her.’

  David put a halter on Silver and tied her securely to the loosebox.

  Barry took the cow’s temperature, looked into its eyes, and checked her rear-end and udder. ‘Get hold of her head and smell her breath, Hannah?’ Barry asked. But she didn’t know if he was joking.

  ‘Come on, what does it smell like?’ He laughed at her as he repeated his request.

  Hannah reluctantly grabbed hold of the animal’s head. ‘Well, very sweet and sickly.’

  ‘Yes, that could be the Peardrop’s smell! Let me try.’ Barry leant forward and stuck his face close to the cow’s mouth. ‘Yes, Davey, I think your diagnosis is right. She’s got Acetonaemia, more commonly known as Slow Fever. The sweet smell on her breath is an accumulation of ketones in the blood-stream. This is acetone you can smell. You’ve probably not been giving her enough roughage and too many concentrates, and she’s having difficulty digesting everything properly.’ He let go of Silver’s head and wiped mucus off his hands onto his trousers. ‘Do you know what to do, Davey?’

  Barry Fitzgerald enjoyed quizzing the young people. He knew that David had a good knowledge of the animals, not just from his time at agricultural college, but he was taught well by his father. Yes, George Keldas, despite being a bad husband was a good farmer. He’d always kept the place tidy and looked after his livestock well and David was now doing the same.

  Barry noticed Hannah was listening carefully to his short lecture. She was a good student, conscientious, and enjoyed her work. She was probably one of the most promising students he’d had in a long while. When she’d first arrived from Durham, much like David, Barry thought her too small to ever be a good vet but soon realised that, although she was small in stature, she was strong willed. But he knew precious little else about her, apart from that she had lost her mother to cancer and that she rarely spoke of her father. Hannah did travel back home regularly to County Durham, but seemed to want to keep her private life to herself, and Barry was diplomatic enough not to intrude.

  Nevertheless, she had come with good recommendations and Barry had begun to like her in the few weeks she’d been with him, knowing when she finally left he would miss her, and have to get used to a new student all over again.

  Barry could have a joke with Hannah and he loved to tease her. She always fell for his tricks and managed to wind herself up, as she’d just done with David. But Hannah could never leave things and would usually try to get her own back.

  Yet Hannah’s main weakness continued to be her communication skills. She had continued to show a dislike for some of the Lakeland farmers. Barry knew they could be an awkward breed, but Hannah’s obvious disinterest was something she would have to work on. And he told her several times that she may not get enough work just treating small animals; she would need the custom of farmers like these for her bread and butter.

  This problem wasn’t entirely her fault, and Barry knew that. On the last visit to the Keldas farm, David had been rude to her, but he’d hoped with David’s change in spirit, Hannah might have felt a bit better about him. That was until David worsened the matter by flirting with her and making his impudent comment.

  When David invited them in for coffee, Barry decided to accept, thinking this might help her. But Hannah was vexed. Why go in for coffee here? We never go in for coffee, she thought, and hoped that David wouldn’t join them.

  As for David, he was pleased his diagnosis had been right, and when Barry questioned him on what treatment to give, he was also correct. ‘Molasses and plenty of roughage?’ David said.

  ‘Yes, and give her a bit of exercise as well. Cut down on the concentrates and build her feed up gradually.’ Barry suggested. ‘And if you get time, walk her around the yard, and if there’s no improvement in a few days give me another call.’

  David took them to the farmhouse kitchen and politely introduced Hannah to his mother and then left.

  As Hannah shook Kathy’s hand she couldn’t believe the contrast, that this beautiful blonde-haired woman could possibly be David’s mother. Kathy just wasn’t what she’d expected. The farmhouse was also a surprise as it was immaculate.

  Kathy was keenly interested in Hannah when she discovered she was from Durham. And a conversation quickly started about Linzi, who was at the university there.

  Barry was pleased to see Kathy looking well and was happy to shake her hand. He hadn’t just known the Keldas family through the veterinary work, but his wife, Eleanor, had been a close childhood friend of Kathy’s. And they’d spent much of their teenage years together, going out as couples.

  Hannah sat quietly taking in the atmosphere of the farmhouse while Barry chatted to Kathy. She noticed the furniture was mostly of antique pine and the soft furnishings were of blue and white gingham. The heat coming from the Aga was welcoming; a little black cat was curled up on the clip rug on the floor in front of it. This was a clean house and the smell of home baking and the pleasant manner of Kathy Keldas softened Keld Head’s brash exterior.

  On the wall hanging above the fireplace Hannah noticed a large portrait photograph of a man, about thirty or forty years old, who was holding a silver trophy. She was struck by how handsome he was; dark hair, piercing eyes, a strong jawbone and an attractive, sculptured mouth. She was saddened when she realised this was probably Kathy’s husband and David’s father.

  She then had a feeling of foreboding and had to look away. But soon became tempted by her own imagination and had to look at him again. She was feeling bewildered, when a little girl ran in, delicate and fairylike, and unconcerned, thrust a colouring book on Hannah’s lap.

  ‘Sarah. Don’t pester Hannah; she’s come in for a rest.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ Hannah replied, glad of the intrusion. ‘Let me look at your book.’

  The litt
le girl promptly ran back to her room to bring her crayons.

  ‘Oh, Sarah, you’re supposed to be ill.’

  ‘Well, I was sick last night Mummy, but I feel better now.’

  Hannah took some of Sarah’s crayons and started to help her draw and momentarily forgot where she was. The kitchen door was opened and David returned, he too was ready for a break; he was hungry and it was getting close to lunchtime. He was amused to see Sarah sitting at the table with Hannah, but his amusement became embarrassment as Sarah dragged him across the room to see her colouring.

  ‘Now, Sarah. Hannah and Barry will have to leave soon; they’ve got lots more sick animals to see to.’ Kathy intervened.

  Barry didn’t like to leave just as David returned but they’d already stayed longer than he anticipated. He looked at David and said, ‘If you like, Davey, I’ll take those stitches out for you.’

  ‘You’re not going to manhandle me like you do my cattle!’

  ‘Then we’ll let Hannah do it.’ Barry knew this would annoy her. ‘She does a good job in the surgery - stitching up and the like.’

  Just as Barry assumed, Hannah was annoyed at his suggestion - almost repulsed, and she looked at him sternly, hoping once more they could leave.

  ‘When are you coming again?’ Sarah said, tugging at Hannah’s pullover to give her one of the drawings; it was of a weird looking pony.

  Hannah pushed it into her pocket, knowing she couldn’t answer the girl’s question, but hoping that it wouldn’t be too soon.

  When they finally drove away it was Barry who was quiet this time. He was pleased to see them all well, and wasn’t worried at all about Silver. But he was thinking of Kathy, wondering how she managed living there alone, looking after this young family. He assumed David hadn’t given a lot of emotional help recently, perhaps he’d even added to her worries.