David stood in the stone cold farmhouse in silence, he opened the fire door on the Aga and slammed it shut again, cursing himself for letting it go out. He put a match to the dry sticks in the parlour fireplace and threw on more sticks and coal to restore matters. He put the electric kettle on and then, peering into the fridge, found a packet of small pork pies. David chose one of the pies for his tea and opened a tin of baked beans. Glancing at the clock he could see it was time for the early evening news.
The yard gate clicked and then the sound of someone singing: Tony?
He knocked then popped his head around the kitchen door. ‘Where is everyone?’
That question was ignored.
‘Do you want some tea?’ David spoke, with his back turned on his friend.
‘What a miserable specimen!’ Tony replied, as he picked up one of the small pies and put most of it into his mouth and tried to eat and speak at the same time. ‘I’m sorry… . Was that your tea?’ spitting pastry crumbs over himself and David.
‘That was tomorrow’s and the day after’s!’
‘So then … I’ll ask you again… . Where is everybody?’
David emptied the tin of baked beans into a small pan and stirred them with a wooden spoon. ‘My mother has cleared off with Alan Marsh for a day or two, and the kids are at my gran’s.’
‘You poor little mite! Is that why you’re looking so dejected? Your mummy has left you has she?’
David ignored the banter by putting out two mugs; he carelessly threw in the coffee and then filled them with hot water. ‘According to my instructions … it should be fish and chips tonight but I can’t be bothered to go to Keswick.’
‘Oh, wonderful. And where might your mother be dining?’
‘Probably some hotel in St. Annes that, Alan, and a hundred other reps stay at. They’ll be talking about how much a gallon of sheep dip costs, over a romantic dinner. Anyhow, wherever she is, and whatever she’s eating, I couldn’t care less.’
‘You selfish beggar! I bet she didn’t think that when you were drinking and fighting down in Blackpool. Besides, you don’t really mean that. You’re only feeling sorry for yourself.’ Tony pulled a chair up to the kitchen table and watched David spooning the hot beans over the cold pie.
‘Anyway… .’ Tony continued, ‘never mind them. Do you fancy coming out for a drink? It’ll be warmer in the pub than in this god-forsaken place.’
And a glimmer of a smile appeared on David’s face as he started to eat his meagre meal – Someone cared for him at last.
*
The men had a welcome drink, a game of pool and a plate of sandwiches, and as they struggled back home up the hill the evening turned windy; their voices were muted.
David left Tony at the bungalow and walked briskly back to the farmhouse. He was as content as he’d been in weeks and, this time, as he opened the kitchen door, the warmth embraced him and he guessed the Aga had finally stayed lit. Yet, despite its heat, there was still a coldness and an eerie silence and an unwelcome feel to the house and he realised, that in all his twenty-three years, he’d never stayed in the house alone at night.
He went into the parlour and touched the radiators with his hand, and they were warm. The fire was smouldering in the hearth, belching out puffs of smoke from a draught coming down the chimney. He felt tired and still a little hungry so, making a jam sandwich and a cup of coffee, took himself straight upstairs to his bedroom.
Quickly undressing, he put on his pyjamas and got straight into bed. And sitting up in bed, David sipped his tea and ate his supper. The alarm was set for six-thirty and he put out his bedside lamp. He was ready for drifting off to sleep when he heard the latch on the backdoor downstairs click. It must be the wind.
He sat up further in his bed and listened – he thought someone had come into the house, and hoped it was Tony fooling around. Not daring to move, he rested back in bed, mesmerised in the darkness. He listened for many minutes, his heart beating like a car engine. Then, as he peered into the darkness, his bedroom door slid open and he saw the form of a woman moving in closer toward him. He sat bolt upright in bed.
‘Don’t be afraid, Davey… . It’s only me.’
‘Good grief, Jo! How did you get in?’ David, still disabled by fear, didn’t move.
‘I haven’t lived next door to you for eighteen years without knowing where you keep your spare key,’ she whispered.
‘Well, what on earth’s the matter?’ Still shaken, he rubbed his eyes and reached out for the bedside lamp.
Joanne came across the room and firmly took his arm, preventing him from any further movement. But David found the energy to stir and threw back the covers and stood up quickly but he clumsily knocked the lamp and it fell crashing to the floor and broke in pieces.
‘I’m sorry … I’m so sorry, Davey.’ She knelt down to pick up the fragments, then sat down on the edge of his bed.
David could just see her appearance through the darkness. Apart from a white t-shirt, she was completely dressed in black. She wore a leather jacket and a short skirt and was shivering with the cold. Her long red hair was falling loosely about her face and shoulders.
‘Tony told me you were all alone, so I’ve come to keep you company.’
David was confused as to her motives and groaned, ‘I’m - I’m all right. Please, please, you’re shivering - you’re cold. What’s the problem, Jo?’
‘Nothing… . Not now… . Not now that I’m with you. I saw your light on and I thought I’d come and talk to you, that’s all.’
David brushed passed her, pleased that tonight he was wearing his pyjamas. He reached for the light-switch by the door. Both of them squinted.
‘Don’t spoil things, Davey. I wanted it to be just you and me. Don’t you want to talk to me?’
‘Joanne!’ David was exasperated. ‘I love talking to you, but not now - not in the middle of the night! I have to be up early in the morning. Come downstairs and I’ll make you a cup of tea, and then you MUST go home.’
He put a pullover on over the top of his pyjamas, as she stayed motionless on his bed. David headed for the door. ‘Please… . Come downstairs,’ his voice was cold. He simply had to get out of the bedroom, but she resisted. ‘Joanne… . Please … I can’t have you here while my mother’s away.’
‘I thought you would want me!’ And with that, she started to cry but David didn’t notice that the tears were false.
‘Oh, no. Please … please don’t cry.’ He went back to the bed and, taking her hand, pulled her up towards him and led her from the room. ‘You must have some tea and then go home,’ he repeated. ‘If Tony finds out you’ve been here, he’ll kill me.’
‘Tony … Tony … I don’t care about Tony. I only care about you.’
‘And I care about you, Jo, but this isn’t the way to do things. It just won’t do!’
‘Well, you’re treating me like a child now. Can’t you see I’m not a child anymore?’ Her eyes flashed.
David looked at her, knowing well that she looked anything but a child. She was a beautiful young woman, but this was madness, her being here. He also knew that, for once, he must do the right thing and take her out of his room; even force her if that were necessary. And, as he gently pulled her hand, she obliged and followed him and he managed to get her downstairs and into the kitchen.
The tea was made with resignation, as David clumsily clattered the kettle, the cups, the milk jug, and then sat, reluctantly, at the table. ‘Does Tony know you’re here?’
‘No. I left him sleeping in front of the telly.’ Joanne weaved around him, curling her body smoothly and seductively close to his.
‘But he’ll hear you coming in again.’
‘Then I’ll stay longer. And he’ll be in bed and won’t miss me at all, will he?’
‘Then I think it’s time to go, Joanne.’
‘If you kiss me like you did before, I’ll leave.’ She stood close to him and rested her arm on his shoulder.
&n
bsp; It was foolish and irrational and yet he complied, anything, to get rid of her.
He gently kissed her on the forehead and held her shoulders slightly as he did so. ‘Now you must go, Joanne and I’ll see you tomorrow.’ But she started to kiss him full on the lips and with passion. Desperate now, David backed away and went to the door. ‘No… no… no… . Don’t please… .’
With her face shrouded in disappointment she finally gave in, and David was relieved to see her through the door, and walked as far as the yard gate with her. He gave her a torch and promised to watch until she was safe in the bungalow. He knew she was hanging around for another kiss so he backed away.
As he stood shivering in the yard, he pulled the sleeves on his pullover down over his hands and folded his arms. He then jogged back indoors and, without any hesitation, put the safety chain on the door.
Unnerved by Joanne’s intrusion, David wandered around the kitchen, not daring to go back upstairs to bed. He thought of sleeping on the sofa and leaving the kitchen light on. Then inwardly cursing himself for his stupidity in kissing her again, he decided his punishment should be to have the uncomfortable night downstairs.
As he contemplated getting pillows and blankets from the airing cupboard, he wandered across to the laundry-room door and, as he passed the Aga, he saw the mirror hanging beside it glistening in the light, and David suddenly stopped. His blue eyes now wide open and sharp, saw something that made him shudder. Scrawled across the mirror was some graffiti. And, as he allowed himself to read it, it said: Come outside to play.
It was an innocuous statement if he could believe it was written by little Sarah or even Tom, and he desperately searched his mind, trying to recall seeing it a day or so before they left for his grandmother’s house. He touched the cold glass and the writing smeared pink on his finger and he realised it was lipstick.
David backed away and crashed into the dining table, catching his foot on one of the chairs. He spun around and stumbled, then kneeling on the floor, crawled to the kitchen sink, and dragged himself up and turned on the hot tap, full flow. He grabbed a cloth, dowsing it in washing-up liquid, and with water and soap dripping down his arm; not caring that it was soaking his pullover, he scrubbed the mirror clean.
*
Joanne managed to get back into the bungalow without disturbing Tony. He was still asleep, with the television on, as some politicians argued about the rights and wrongs of Britain joining the Common Market.
She put away her jacket, went to the bedroom and fumbled through the dressing table drawer to find her diary. Humming to herself, she lay on the bed and began to read:
MARCH 10th.Tuesday
Helped Davey with the milking again tonight. He told me of his plan to move to Scotland. He told me how much he loved me and that as soon as his mother could cope, we will elope together. Then there will be just him and me
Then she began to write:
MARCH 11th. Wednesday.
Helped Davey with the milking again. He told me how miserable he was living at home and said he couldn’t wait until we leave and get married. He begged me to stay the night as his mother is away for a few days.
MARCH 12th. Thursday.
I came home at 6:30 this morning. David is now at work. He didn’t want to get up and leave me for milking but I persuaded him to go. That was my very first night at Keld Head alone with him. His mother is home tomorrow so we must be careful of when we see each other again. I do love him so much.
*
Kathy, still dressed in her red suit, stood at the desk looking at the mail. She sighed as she opened each envelope. ‘I can’t believe how many bills can come in just three days!’ She placed several invoices back in the correct envelopes and putting them in a wire basket, shoved them back on the desk.
David was relieved to have his mother home and admitted to himself that she looked well, in fact, she looked radiant; but he couldn’t forgive her. He found it hard to believe that Alan had taken her to Paris, and as he looked carefully at her appearance and demeanour, he tried to see any marks of unfaithfulness in her, not just against his father, but mostly against himself.
He recalled how his mother would act when she’d made up with his father after they’d had some massive argument, and there would be open displays of kissing and whispering between them. She always had an air about her that should have pleased David, but it never did, it always sickened him, and today she seemed the same. And then he recalled the suggestions and accusations of his deluded father, who didn’t trust anyone, and David realised he was thinking just the same.
Kathy had hugged David on her return and sensed his resistance. Then hoping she wasn’t to get another scolding she tried to pacify him. ‘Are the animals all okay, love? Did milking go well?’
‘Well enough.’ David was sitting at the table trying to mend his broken bedside lamp; there were bits of wires everywhere.
‘Have you been out at all?’
‘Just to the pub. Tony called in for me.’ Still a rebuff.
‘What happened to the lamp?’
‘I just knocked it, okay.’
‘Did anyone else call?’
‘No, not really.’ David tried to concentrate on his repairs.
Kathy wondered who constituted a “not really,” but decided it would be better not to ask. She was glad to see he was safe, and wondered why she’d worried about him so much; he was driving her crazy. She opened the fridge door and noticed from the contents that he’d eaten very little. She hoped at least that he’d had some fish and chips.
‘Oh, by the way,’ David stood from his chair, frustrated that the lamp still didn’t work. ‘Mrs Hargreaves phoned …’ he paused as once again he looked intently at his mother for any clues of deception in her eyes. ‘She wants to speak to you about Tom.’
‘Oh no … ! What’s the matter now?’
‘She just said it was important that’s all. Oh … and Linzi called to say she’ll be home at weekend and wants picking up from the bus.’
‘Did you tell her where I was?’
‘No, Mother, I didn’t… . You tell her!’
*
The following morning Kathy started to dress in her familiar clothes: blue denim jeans and a baggy pullover, then she had second thoughts. And not wanting to lose the wonderful feelings of peace by being anxious over Tom, decided to go to the school and get it over with. She had to call into the village post office and a detour wouldn’t be out of her way. She decided to wear something that, the sensible, Mrs Hargreaves would approve of. Her new red suit would certainly raise some eyebrows in the village and provoke some unwelcome comments. So Kathy wisely chose something less seductive.
It was a fine day and the long walk to the school would give her the opportunity to compose her thoughts. She couldn’t help but wonder why she’d been summoned, and only hoped it was nothing to do with the children being taken out of school again. She wanted to be as discreet as she could and give the Head Teacher no further reason to view her disapprovingly.
The village was crowded as she walked over the bridge; she stepped off the pavement into the road, past the church, and stopped for a while to watch a robin hopping around the headstones in the churchyard. The bakery was open and the aroma of freshly baked bread filled the cool spring air.
Looking up to the fells, she could see the mountains looming over her, and the light and the clear day made them appear like they were made of brilliant glass. The summits were shrouded in a carpet of bright green, lush turf, and bronzed with dormant bracken, looking resplendent as moisture glistened on the wet rocks.
As a precaution, Kathy decided to do her errands before going to the school, recalling how on her previous visit she’d had to make a hurried return home.
*
The Head Teacher was in her usual dominant spirit. The strength of her character appeared to ooze from her very presence and, without uttering one word, Kathy felt intimidated. She took a deep breath and sat down on the chair b
efore her; glad she’d considered her appearance.
Dorothy Hargreaves got straight to the point. ‘We seem to have a problem with Tom, I’m afraid, Mrs Keldas. One of our parents has complained that he’s been bullying their child.’
Kathy was astounded. ‘I can’t believe it! Not Tom.’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘May I ask who the child is?’
‘The parent wishes him to remain anonymous and, under the circumstances, I think it best if it stays that way.’ Mrs Hargreaves was resolute. But Kathy was provoked and wanted to say: ‘The circumstances … the circumstances… . What circumstances are these?’
There was silence as both women eyed each other and contemplated. Kathy was the first to speak. ‘If this is true … because it’s not like him. What do you want me to do about it?’
In her thoughts, Mrs Hargreaves disagreed, as she believed it was typical of Tom Keldas.
‘I’ve noticed a big change in his behaviour recently. He’s become inattentive and his schoolwork has suffered. Children who bully often do it because they feel inadequate in some way, perhaps even jealous of the other child.’
Kathy didn’t want to admit it, but she knew she’d given Tom and Sarah very little attention recently and she’d channelled every waking thought into David and her own selfish pursuits.
*
Kathy didn’t need to rush home as she’d expected. Yes, she was disturbed and perplexed, but her renewed vitality gave her a clear aspect of this new situation. She tried to recall David as an eleven-year-old, but couldn’t think of any time he’d been accused of bullying, though he had been in a few fights at school. She smiled to think of his recent one in Blackpool and how he had the scars to prove it. She would usually blame Tony Milton’s sharp tongue for most of the trouble David found himself in, but she knew David wasn’t perfect and neither was Tom.
Yes, Tom was a strong and tall boy for his age, but to think he might use this as a means to provoke others vexed her. He was certainly used to the rough and tumbles of life; George had treated him badly. And David tried to give him some of the time that George had neglected, but this often resulted in play fighting. David had ended up being the victim of Tom’s playfulness with a bloodied nose and a broken tooth. So, consequently, she decided that David would be the best one to speak to Tom purely on a man-to-man basis.
Northern Spirit Page 13