Linzi grinned and stepped forward. ‘Wow, Davey! Look at you, you handsome devil. Where’s all that hair gone?’
David brushed the dust from his overalls and leant back on the bonnet of the car to rest his aching back and rubbed his hands on an oily rag. He didn’t know what to say to her as he watched her eyeing him, then his car.
She looked again long and hard at his physique and pulled at his overalls to touch him. ‘Good grief, you’ve lost weight. You’re skinny.’
‘Okay, okay … enough of the comments.’ He crossed his legs in front of him, still resting his back on the car. ‘So, Sister. You’ve come to see Betty have you?’
‘No, you idiot … I’ve come to see you. Don’t seem so pleased!’ She wandered around the car looking in the windows and went to turn the radio down.
‘Is this Uncle Fred’s old Volvo?’
‘It was Fred’s old Volvo, now it’s mine!’ he deliberated.
‘Have you done her up a bit then? She looks well.’
‘Only the basics, and she’s had a good wax and polish.’
‘You must look quite a catch going out in this. That’s providing you’re still single then, eh!’
He smirked at her as she went to sit on an old workbench opposite him and started to fidget with his tools.
‘Davey … I want to tell you something.’
He lowered his head and waited for her to start nagging at him for leaving.
Linzi was her usual self and got straight to the point. ‘I want you to have half my share of the farm, when Dad’s will’s sorted out … I haven’t told Mum, and I can’t explain to Tom and Sarah just yet. I don’t understand why you’ve been left out. It’s just not fair.’
‘Well, thanks for your consideration,’ David scowled, ‘but I’ve wanted out for a long time and now I’ve got the chance.’ He made no attempt to move and stood his ground.
She was astonished by his reply and stared at him. ‘Oh, for goodness sake. You can’t mean that!’
‘Oh, but I do mean it. There’s nothing to hold me to Keld Head now.’
‘So is that why you left us all, just because you wanted out!’ Linzi was ignoring all the advice that her mother had given her.
David didn’t reply.
‘Oh, come on David! Don’t go all sulky on me. A few months ago, you tore a strip off me for not going to Uncle Fred’s funeral… . You’re a hypocrite, you know! You’ve left us all in the lurch. I can’t believe how you can just walk out on us like that.’
David stayed calm as he spoke. ‘Look Linzi, you don’t know what it was like to face Dad again, and you won’t understand why I left Keld Head and I’m not going to tell you … but, I will tell you this, I won’t be coming back. I’ll stay with Betty for now.’
‘I’m sorry David, but I could strangle you sometimes. You can be so irritating. Yes, I don’t know what really happened, but why leave now? I’ve told Mum time and time again you’re not as perfect as she thinks you are!’
‘Oh, thanks. I’ve never pretended to be perfect.’
‘Well, you’re just as bad as Dad… . He was always walking out on her and now you’re doing the same!’
The comparison between himself and George Keldas, hit David hard. He no longer feared George’s impropriety, but detested being accused of walking out on his mother. David had hated him for leaving her so often, especially as he now knew the dreadful truth; all the time, making accusations against her, when George was having an affair and playing around with a girl half his age.
David found himself in a daydream as Linzi continued to insult and abuse his name, but he was no longer listening. Then the thought suddenly crossed his mind whether his mother knew or not about the affair with Joanne. He had been so stupid – so slow. All this time he’d only thought about his own selfish pride. How hurt she must have felt if she knew the truth. Was that why she’d been upset by his plan to marry Joanne, and he shuddered at what he may have done.
‘David … David… . Are you listening?’
He was staring into the garden, his eyes now glazed over with moisture.
Linzi jumped down off the bench, and finally reading his mood correctly, went to hug him. And as she threw her arms around his neck, he put his arm across her back and pulled her closer to him and held on to her tightly for some time.
Linzi buried her head in his chest, smelling the oil on his clothes and the warmth of his body. She wanted to cry, but restrained herself and pulled away. She grabbed the oily rag from his hand and playfully pushed it in his face.
‘There’s one thing I have to ask before I go,’ she choked on her words. ‘It’s the cattle… . Mum thinks it’s a good idea to sell them and get some sucklers.’ Linzi wandered around the car again. ‘I don’t want to sell them, but if you insist on not coming back, we have no choice.’
‘Linzi… . It’s not my decision to make.’ David was sorry about the cattle but he still had self-preservation in mind. ‘Just do as you like.’
‘Davey… ?’ she stopped as she was about to leave. ‘Please come and see us all soon… . Please.’
‘I will, I promise… . But in my own time… . Thanks for coming.’
David continued with his work, going through the motions of the repairs. He tightened and replaced a broken bracket, cursing a bolt that had seized up and corroded and was stuck fast. He kept dropping the bolts then misplacing his spanners, but finally succeeded in tightening the exhaust pipe.
He scrambled from underneath the car again and looked at his watch. ‘Oh no!’ he threw down his tools and went indoors.
Betty was sat waiting for him. She was neatly dressed and, with the help of Mrs Challenor, her hair was curled, her nose was powdered and she had a touch of pink lipstick jaggedly smeared across her lips.
‘I’m so sorry I’m late. It took me longer than I thought.’
But Betty knew exactly why he was late: Linzi hadn’t left without seeing her, and she was naturally delighted that someone had, at last, come to see David.
She observed his face and, through the dirt and smears of grime, she could see that he looked troubled.
‘I’ll only be five minutes in the bath and then we’ll go to Kendal.’
‘Don’t rush, Davey, please… . Take your time. I want you looking respectable.’
David immediately wondered why.
Betty had been sat waiting for him for some time; so excited about this trip and to see Linzi was a surprise. Yes, today was wonderful.
David was soon clean-shaven, his short cropped hair, dark and shining and still wet. He decided to wear his newly pressed work trousers and shirt, hoping that he didn’t look too much like a waiter. The only problem was that he had no jacket. His only coat was his green Parka that he’d eaten in, slept in, and dossed in, down in London. It was now washed and clean but, neverthe-less, inappropriate. The only thing he could do was to wear his old pullover.
‘Have you got nothing better than that old thing?’
‘What’s the matter with it?’ He pulled the front of the pullover out from his stomach to look.
‘You can’t go out in that. Upstairs in my wardrobe you’ll find some of Freddie’s old jackets. See if one of them fits you.’
Reluctantly, he ran back upstairs and fumbled through the old wardrobe and in amongst the pink and blue Crimplene dresses and old suits he found two jackets. One was a smart navy blazer with brass buttons and the other was a green tweed-shooting jacket.
He groaned, as he tried both of them on and then settled for the blazer.
‘There, there … look at you now, you look a dandy!’
‘Do I want to look a dandy?’ David hovered by the door wanting to leave. ‘I look more like a pilot.’
‘If I’d have known we were going to have this bother… .’
‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry.’ And he fiddled with his collar, hoping she didn’t notice he wasn’t wearing a tie. ‘I’ll get the car out.’
Betty hobbled to the front door o
f the cottage and, resting on her two sticks, took a deep breath. She looked across the fields and saw yesterday’s rain evaporating in the sunshine. She tapped the ground with one of her sticks in excitement and a group of sparrows fluttered out from a honeysuckle rambling over the garden hedge.
David pulled the car up to the front door and opened the passenger door. He smiled at her demeanour - this strong willed lady with the courage of a lion. Taking her arm, he gently eased her into the front seat.
Betty was neatly dressed in a light green coat and fawn peaked hat. She rested her two sticks on the floor beside her.
‘Which way do you want to go? Straight to Kendal or what?’
‘Let’s go to Sawrey, then over the ferry so I can see the lake.’
*
Carefully negotiating the twisty lanes, the Volvo was no longer accustomed to this slow pace. Once at the lakeshore, they didn’t have to wait long before the ferry arrived. Betty insisted once they were aboard that she walk out and look over the side, just as David had done a few weeks earlier.
He steadied her by the arm as she leant on the rails, and looked across to Waterhead and could see the Langdale Pikes in full view, but a cool breeze from across the water hit their faces and Betty went back to the safety of the car.
She’d travelled this route many times before, but always with her husband, and to be with David in Fred’s old car brought back happy memories. But at ninety-two she didn’t know when her final day would come; she had to expect it at anytime. Her heart had jumped a little more of late and she felt fragile, like a small bird nestling in someone’s mighty hand. Dizziness at times had overwhelmed her and, if not for David’s presence, she doubted she would have had the courage to stay at Foxglove Cottage alone.
‘Where exactly do you want to be in Kendal?’ David was wondering how on earth this elderly lady would manage the bustle of the town that she was unaccustomed to.
Betty rooted deep into her handbag and pulled out a small card.
David glanced at the inscription as he drove. He noticed the name “Piercy,” then abbreviations after it. He saw the number and the street and the word “Solicitors”.
He handed it back to her, bewildered.
David parked the car on the tree-lined avenue. Betty held onto his arm and she led him into an old house. The entrance hall was cold; a parlour palm struggled for light as it sat in the corner.
A matronly receptionist welcomed them and ushered them to two hard chairs. ‘I’ll inform Mr Piercy you’re here, Mrs Keldas.’ Speaking in an efficient tone. ‘You look very well.’
Mr Angus Piercy emerged from his office. He was a tall, thin man, with a cheerful manner. To David he looked business-like in his pinstriped suit. He came across and warmly greeted Betty.
‘What a pleasure this is Mrs Keldas,’ as he held on to her hand and then stretched out his hand to David. David felt compelled to stand as the man grasped onto him.
‘This is my great-nephew, David,’ Betty was proud.
‘Ah, yes… . I do remember you now,’ the solicitor said, ‘from your uncle’s funeral.’
Still embarrassed about his behaviour that day, David had an overwhelming desire to leave, and the corner he now found himself in felt uncomfortable; remorse struck him as he guessed this man would have wondered why he didn’t attend his own father’s funeral.
‘Please sit down, David, and Miss Banks will bring you coffee.’
David was glad to resume his sitting position as Betty was taken into the office.
The matronly receptionist returned with a tray of coffee and biscuits and David struggled with the china, afraid of breaking anything, but happier knowing his aunt was no doubt assuming her own business affairs.
Miss Banks continued to eye David as she returned to her desk. He had certainly cheered what would usually be a dull day. She watched him flick through the newspapers, and could see he was uncomfortable with the large reams of paper of the broadsheets.
David looked about him and felt nervous at the attention. He stared at the bare panelled walls of the office, which were sparsely decorated by some framed certificates and then, fumbled again with newspapers.
It was some time before he heard the door handle of the office twist open. Angus Piercy’s voice much louder as they emerged. David quickly stood up.
‘Well, good day to you young man, it has been a pleasure to meet you.’ He reached out for David’s hand again and shook it. ‘And good day to you, dear lady.’
David led Betty out into the fresh air, glad of the sunlight. ‘I’m sorry Aunty, but I’m too warm!’ and he pulled off the blazer and carelessly threw it onto the back seat of the car. ‘Where now?’
‘Now, you take me out to lunch, David … and show me that hotel where you work.’
*
Betty was content that David seemed more at peace today; she hoped she’d given this to him but, as soon as they returned to the cottage, he was outside again, walking up the hill in the late afternoon sunshine. David hadn’t changed his clothes, he’d just seen that Betty was comfortable and left her sitting in her fireside chair. She was far too tired to plead with him to stay, and she desperately needed a nap. Betty sighed, ‘Oh young man. Don’t start wandering like your father. What can I do to help you?’
Betty was right, of course, there was nothing she could do for him; his mind was in turmoil. He needed time to be alone and to think.
He climbed the hill and sat down on a grassy plateau; his favourite spot. He too felt sleepy and in the warmth of the sunshine, took off his shirt, sat back on the grass and shut his eyes; his pale skin soaked up the heat from the sun. He lay with his arms behind his head as a pillow; as dark hairs on his chest and torso were exposed to the sun.
David thought of Keld Head and the busy life he’d had, contrasted with the peace here at Foxglove Cottage. The change had been good for him, he knew that. But it wasn’t until Linzi had called today did he realise how much he missed his family. Despite knowing she was only his half-sister, he still had a strong attachment for her. He neverthe-less felt angry with his mother, but whether she knew of George’s affair with Joanne or not troubled him. He certainly didn’t want to cause any more pain and distress by asking her. And, if his mother didn’t know the truth, he would have to keep silent. He was certain that Tony would keep the confidence, but would Joanne. She had acted so bitterly toward him, almost hateful. But there was nothing more he could do only to hope, and to live in silence with this knowledge. If his relationship with Joanne had disturbed his mother, he wasn’t to blame; he had acted in innocence.
David realised once again that he had broken his promise not to leave. Linzi was right to call him a hypocrite, but maybe not in the sense that she meant. But, despite all this, David could still not come to terms with the idea of going back. He was afraid he would be persuaded to stay. He never wanted to work at Keld Head again; he doubted he could even go near the tower. The image of George Keldas’s dead body sickened him, as he remembered his own face and body spattered with the blood of the man he’d believed to be his father.
He wondered who’d cleaned up the mess. Who had scrubbed the walls and floor? Who had milked the cattle that night? It was all a vague blur. He felt uneasy now as Keld Head had a morbidity that he’d never assumed before and it went beyond hatred, as he thought of the place that had the darkest of secrets he could imagine. But this sweet meadow above Hawkshead was warm and light; there was no darkness at Foxglove Cottage. The sun always seemed to shine or the fire would climb so high up the chimney that it would brighten the whole cottage.
David slipped into a deep sleep, dreaming of dark corners, cobwebs and oak beams. He dreamt he was a hostage and someone had tied his hands behind him on a wooden chair. Then another man came along, much like himself and released him, but then started to wrestle with him. But he refused to fight. I will not do this… . I will not do it! I will not be afraid! Then a tall man in a pinstriped suit came to shake his hand; he congratula
ted him and said: ‘Well done David… . You have escaped!’
A rustling noise woke him up, and he opened his eyes and saw a young woman standing over him, watching.
‘I’m so sorry about your shirt,’ she said.
David looked beside him and saw a small terrier paddling muddy paws across his white shirt and he sat bolt upright.
‘It’s - it’s okay. Please don’t worry.’ Aware of his semi-nakedness and embarrassed by his pale and bony flesh, David picked up his soiled shirt and slipped it over his chest.
The girl continued to eye him; she saw the jagged scar from an old wound across his mouth, his dark eyebrows and stunning eyes, and she smiled.
‘David… . It is you, isn’t it? I didn’t recognise you.’
‘Hello, Hannah. I’m er - just getting some sun,’ seeing the girl’s tanned skin and soft, brown, shoulder length hair.
‘I’m sorry about the dog,’ she repeated, as the small Lakeland terrier sniffed at David’s best shoes. Hannah continued to stand awkwardly before him and then reached down for the dog. ‘Jassie … Jassie, come here.’
‘Are you well, Hannah?’ David wanted to keep her attention. ‘What are you doing up here?’
‘I’ve come over Claife Heights,’ she gestured to the forest, ‘I’m just heading for the village for a drink.’ Hannah’s face glowed. She pulled a small haversack off her shoulders and threw it down on the floor.
‘And you David… . Are you well?’ She was astonished at his appearance, unable to believe this was the same man that had irritated her, then recklessly flirted with her, only a few months earlier.
David began to feel uncomfortable with Hannah standing over him, and tried to get up but struggled with his aching back. He apologised and remained sitting.
‘I’m sorry, Hannah. I’ve been working under my car and I hurt my back. Please … Why don’t you sit down.’
She untied a pullover wrapped about her waist, folded it, and then sat down on it. ‘What an amazing view.’
David looked across at her, happy to be on the same level and, as he glanced at her profile, he had to agree. He pointed at the mountains above them, ‘There’s the Old Man, then Wetherlam, that’s Dow Crag beside it.’
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