He bought a ticket.
*
David hosed down the dairy, tirelessly removing debris and dung that had accumulated from the morning’s milking. The cattle were settled and munching hay in the foldyard. He loved to see them like this, as they rocked from side to side on their feet, with steam rising from their bodies and drifting up into the cool air. The cattle were chewing their cud, content, oblivious to any danger and satisfied.
The sight of the contented animals had a revitalising effect on David and lifted his spirits. He put away the hosepipe and set the dairy up ready for the evening’s milking.
He’d had a quiet morning; he’d walked the fields and checked the grassland, knowing that as soon as spring approached the cattle could go out to graze. A few more calves had been born over the winter without any hitches, and there were still several more cows due to calve. David had decided that he needed to call Barry Fitzgerald out for a few necessary check-ups. One cow had given birth and was sick with an infection. Two others, which David had thought were in calf, were showing no signs whatsoever of a pregnancy, and there was also a cow with mastitis; its udder had become hard and swollen with infected milk, and David had been struggling to treat it himself. He would have all the animals ready in the barn for Barry, whenever he called.
David was hungry and felt more satisfied with his work than he’d been for some time. He started to whistle as he worked, talking gently and fondly to the cattle as he moved them around and playfully patting them. Someone had kindly taken the heavy weight from him today. He knew he’d have to have it back, but hoped he could resist as long as possible.
When David entered the farmhouse kitchen ready for lunch, he was surprised to see Tony’s father.
‘Davey … ?’ Kathy was the first to speak. ‘Did you know that Tony was going to London?’
Removing his grubby overalls and out of breath with the exertion he replied. ‘Er … yes. He told me on Tuesday. He didn’t say when, though.’
‘Then why on earth didn’t you say anything?’ Kathy said.
‘I didn’t think I needed to tell you everything that happens in my life.’
Keith Milton quickly interrupted. ‘I’m just worried about his health that’s all, Davey.’
‘Well, I shan’t be able to talk him out of it.’ David softened and went to wash his hands. ‘He doesn’t listen to me anymore.’
‘It’s too late anyway, Davey. He’s already gone.’
David stopped what he was doing and looked at Keith Milton and his deep blue eyes widened.
‘He packed and left last night. Just left me a note. He says he’s staying with my sister’s lad in Knightsbridge.’
‘Well, that’s it then isn’t it? That’s probably my fault too!’
Kathy heard the despair in his voice. She knew David and Tony had been at odds with one another of late and that perhaps Joanne was the cause. Things were slowly being pieced together, but Kathy felt she hadn’t seen the full picture. She’d also heard more gossip in the village. A neighbour had taken pleasure in telling her, and all those present in the Post Office, that she’d seen a man, much like David, dragging a young woman out in the snow at an ungodly hour. If it hadn’t been necessary for the woman to get up and “spend a penny” she would have missed it all. The woman said she’d peeped through the window when she heard the girl and had feared for her safety. She hadn’t known whether to call for help, but then seeing the blue flashing lights up at Keld Head, “again”, guessed the situation must be in hand. Kathy had refused to let her anger show and wouldn’t be sucked into the woman’s fact finding mission, so she calmly asked for her purchases and left the shop, knowing full well, the gossip would continue and soon this whole village would turn against her son as they had done her husband.
‘Come on, Davey… . Have your tea. This is NOT your fault.’
But that was the problem, David imagined everything was his fault. Somewhere along the lines he blamed himself for his father’s attitude, thinking he’d driven him to shoot to kill.
*
Barry Fitzgerald put his equipment back in the boot of his car. In the cold of the farmyard, he stripped to the waist, carefully removing his soiled green waterproof overalls; his job was now done at Keld Head. He was just mulling over the news that David had given him, surprised to hear that David’s friend, Tony Milton, had gone to London. It mattered to him that David was worried.
He hadn’t rushed his job today, wanting to pacify David. He’d taken a retained after-birth from the newly calved cow, and diagnosed that one of the dairy cows wasn’t in calf. Barry could see David was disappointed, as it was too late to try and mate her again and she would have to be sold.
David was also disappointed that Hannah wasn’t with Barry as he’d expected. He’d hoped the reason was because she was nursing some poorly creature elsewhere, rather than the fact that she was avoiding him.
The dimly lit loosebox was warm and dry and a strong wind was blowing outside. David wasn’t normally affected by the cold but had found of late he had an increasing disliking for it. He had intended to invite Barry into the farmhouse for a drink, but after manhandling three boisterous animals for an hour or more, he’d felt a wave of dizziness come over him, and the straw bale behind him was a convenient seat.
The more he sat, the more comfortable he became and an overwhelming tiredness crept over him. In his mind he felt he was just being bone-idle, but he’d had these dizzy spells for a few days now and today he felt a tightness grip his chest. David felt some of the life drain out of him and thought if he could see himself in a mirror he would look pale. These new feelings didn’t worry him because he didn’t care anymore.
But David did care about Hannah and he wanted to ask after her, but had resisted, and now as he sat quietly, he recalled the promise he’d made to himself on the day of Uncle Fred’s funeral, and realised he was failing himself and his mother if he married Joanne. If Joanne hadn’t have been so persistent, and if he hadn’t have been so reckless, he could have kept his promise. And now there were thoughts of Hannah constantly coming back to his mind. Her influence on him he hadn’t expected at all. He’d had other girlfriends who’d been fun to be with, but none of them got to him as she did. Some girls he’d used and some had used him. Some had given him up because of his belligerent father and some, much like Joanne, still adored him. But he guessed that these feelings for Hannah were different, not just flashing moments of desire. And although he hardly knew her, he had little chance of getting to know her better. Why was it, that the girl he wanted didn’t seem to care, but the one he didn’t want, cared too much?
He’d also had two letters from Joanne since she left Keld Head, which he couldn’t bring himself to reply to. At one time the anxiety of all this would have made him walk away, or even run, but all he could do was sit. There would be no one to go and look for him anyway, as he’d done for his father; his dear uncle was dead and Tom was too young. So David slapped his hands down on his knees, realising he’d allowed his mind to go deeper into the mire than was good for him.
He was about to stand, when Barry returned and sat close beside him on the straw bale. ‘Not too disappointed about the barren cow are you, Davey?’
‘Ah no. … Not too much anyway. Some you win - some you lose.’ There was no eye contact as David stared at the floor.
‘You must come over to my place sometime… . Now that Tony’s gone, you and I can have a drink together. Eleanor doesn’t want my company much these days and I guess I need a good drinking partner.’
‘And you think I’d be good company?’
‘Ah, you young ones… . I don’t know what’s the matter with you all. I’ve another one like you back at the surgery.’
David knew he was referring to Hannah and his senses sharpened.
‘Yeh, she’s moping around just like you. Hannah used to cheer me up, but now she’s miserable, and I don’t think it’s Tony Milton she’s missing.’
‘Is
she ill?’ David asked. ‘I thought she might have come today.’
‘No, she’s not ill, she’s studying… . Hannah’s got a lot of exams to sit this year, and she has her head stuck in medical books. It’s good to take your career seriously but I think she’s going a bit overboard. She needs a break.’
Both men fell silent, thinking about the troublesome women in their lives. Barry wanted to tell David about his failing marriage to Eleanor, but didn’t want to burden him. David wanted to tell Barry of his confused feelings for Hannah, but guessed he would think he was being improper - she was far above him. And then there was this crazy plan to marry Joanne. David reasoned Barry too would think he was being a fool: adoring one woman and yet intending to marry another.
It was Barry who spoke next. ‘Do you have a date for your father’s trial yet, Davey?’
Shocked at his bluntness, David replied, ‘No … no… . It keeps being put off. They’ve finally diagnosed Dad’s stomach trouble – he’s got gallstones or something. And until he’s well, they won’t send him for trial. He has to have surgery and then more waiting, I guess.’
‘I bet you wish you could just get it over and done with? I can see you’re anxious.’
‘To be honest Barry, I daren’t think much about it… . I keep trying to push it to the back of my mind.’
Then David looked intently into the older man’s kindly face. ‘You see … it all hinges on me, doesn’t it? If I say Dad was trying to shoot me, he could go down for attempted murder and a manslaughter charge for killing Uncle Fred. But if I say it was all an accident, Dad will be given a lighter sentence. And for an accidental death verdict, his conviction would be much shorter, if any! And then we’ll have to start all over again, him tormenting Mum and me, for goodness knows how long, or until he does something stupid again, and I’m sure he would.’
David paused to take a breath and then continued as Barry listened. ‘And then there’s Keld Head … ? What will happen to the farm if Dad gets life or something? Mum will have no say in what happens to it - it’s not her farm and I doubt he would give it to me. So we’re like sitting tenants really. Legally, none of us can sell the place unless Dad allows it, or he signs it over to one of us, and he’s not likely to do that either.’ David didn’t stir, only his head and his eyes moved, firstly looking at Barry and then glancing down at the straw under his feet. ‘If Mum divorced Dad, she would be entitled to a lot of money and the farm would have to be sold, but then what will happen to her and Sarah and Tom?’
‘And what about you, Davey?’
‘I don’t care what happens to me… . I’ve no particular love for this place any more, but I wanted to be loyal to my mum, but I don’t know if I can. Life’s a mess Barry - it really is, and I don’t know what to do.’
‘You must tell the truth for a start - for your safety and your mother’s.’
David raised his voice. ‘Will they believe me, though. Maybe they’ll say it was all my fault anyway - making up crazy stories about him. Besides, how can I stand there and say that my own father was trying to kill me. But I saw him Barry… . He held the gun at me. He said he’d shoot and he did. And besides, I couldn’t look him in the eyes. He’s stronger than I am. He would look at me with those cold eyes of his and wish me dead! Oh, why does everything depend on me?’
Barry put his arm across David’s back and he responded by dropping his head.
‘It doesn’t all depend on you… . They’ll question your mother too… . She’ll tell the truth… . She knew what he was trying to do.’
*
Kathy stood shivering outside by the loosebox door, holding a tray of coffee in her hand. She could hear the soft voices of the two men talking. She wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but when she heard David raise his voice and, this time at Barry, Kathy stopped to hear him as he poured out his real feelings.
But David looked up, aware of his mother standing at the door and wondered how much she’d overheard. He jumped up and pushed passed her, knocking her body against the stable door. The coffee mugs fell to the ground, spilling the hot liquid on her clothes.
Barry moved quickly. ‘Are you okay, Kathy?’
He heard her moan, wounded, as she could no longer hold in the pain and the heartache, and she fell into his arms and, for the first time publicly, she wept.
.
15
THE LIBERATOR
George Keldas hadn’t seen the outside world for five months, and even today the bars of the prison van obscured some of his view. But, true enough, he was outside.
If he could stretch a little taller he would see more, but the guard beside him sat tight, with his hands held low and handcuffs binding him down.
An ache in George’s side gave him the excuse to stretch upwards, but not for long; a sharp stabbing pain in his stomach made his body shrink back down.
He could just see a few cars and people, busy and getting on with their lives, not noticing him or caring. He looked at the fields. He hadn’t seen fields like this for months, but the hills here were smaller and the land was flatter.
If he could just catch a bus, he would soon be home. The children would be at school and Kathy would be washing. But who would look after the farm until his pain went away? He had no one he could rely on; he had disowned David and he couldn’t trust Kathy. Maybe Linzi would come home and help him and Tom, when he came in from school, then they could feed up together. Maybe just two or three days in this hospital and he would be home. Yes, that would be best - have a good rest, then leave.
‘Now, George, don’t go to sleep. Make the most of your trip. You’ll not be getting many more.’ The guard speaking was nudging and shaking the prisoner’s trembling body.
‘I’ll be home before you think,’ George muttered in a slow, drug induced drawl.
‘In your dreams!’ the guard said.
Another guard spoke up in his defence. ‘Leave him be, Mike. The man’s sick. Don’t keep tormenting him.’
‘If you ask me, he’s not sick at all, are you George? You’re a devious beggar. You know exactly what you’re doing don’t you? You just want a couple of easy days in hospital.’
If George hadn’t have been restrained he would have punched the guard in the face, but he was powerless. He was getting used to the taunting now. They were always calling him lazy, and saying things about his wife and his daughter. Some things he believed were true, and some of them weren’t. If he was going crazy, the guards didn’t help.
As the van swung swiftly around corners and up and over small bridges, George started to feel sick. The palms of his hands felt sticky and fine droplets of moisture clustered on his forehead as the heat rose. He tried to bend his back and bury his head down between his knees, but the guard pulled him up again.
‘We’ll soon be there, George,’ the kindly one spoke. ‘Take some deep breaths.’
But it was too late. George was sick.
The guard beside him frantically tried to pull himself away, jarring the prisoner’s wrists and shoulder. But it was no use; the guard was already spattered with vomit, covering his trousers, his sleeves and his shoes.
‘Stop the van … ! Pull it over.’
‘Stop … stop… . ’ the other guard shouted and banged his fist on the side of the van. But as they stopped, George was sick again.
*
David found himself singing today. He hadn’t felt as lonely as he thought after Tony’s departure, in fact, he’d thought very little of him these past few weeks; peace and normality were healing him. David had decided to give the dairy a spring clean. He’d cleaned and polished the stainless steel bulk tank and was now scrubbing the dairy walls. When they were properly dry and aired, he intended giving them a lick of paint. He had some azure blue swimming pool paint ready to give the walls some waterproofing, and it would give the old grey concrete walls a cleaner and brighter look. The sun was shining through the window, showing up the cobwebs and the dust that had accumulated over the winter. Green wel
lingtons protected David’s feet, but his overalls were wet from the scrubbing. His face was speckled with muddy water.
He was swilling the floor clean with the hosepipe when he thought he heard under the noise of the water pressure the yard gate click open. He tried not to react and continued to spray the cold water onto the walls. But, as he tried to force the water on a grubby piece of concrete, he felt the pressure drop and the water stopped running.
Instinctively, David looked at the end of the hosepipe and shook it, but nothing happened. Thinking it must have come loose on the tap, or even twisted, he kicked the pipe, but still there was no response. So peering down at the pipe, he walked into the yard to look for a kink or an obstruction, but there was none.
He glanced across to the farmhouse door expecting to see his mother, but he was alone. Then he heard the sound of someone laughing, the noise coming from the stone tower. Feeling anxious, he sidled across to the old building. Just in the recess he could see the back of someone crouching by the door; someone with long red hair.
‘Tony … is that you? Stop messing around.’
But David was surprised to see it was Joanne.
She ran to him and hugged him, smothering his damp body with hers. ‘I’m back, Davey … I’m back. Are you pleased to see me?’ Then she started to kiss his muddied face. ‘I’ve come home for good, now.’
David still smothered in the girl’s warm body was shocked and remained silent. Why has she come back now? He thought. I’m not ready for this yet.
David pulled her arms from him and gently pushed her away. ‘Joanne, please. Be careful, I’m wet through.’
‘What’s the matter, Davey … ? Aren’t you pleased to see me?’ Her pale green eyes looked saddened at his reproof. ‘Why didn’t you answer my letters?’ Joanne wiped the grime from her jacket and continued. ‘Oh it’s so good to see you,’ and she couldn’t resist hugging him again.
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