‘So, how far have you walked?’ she questioned him. He was dressed too smartly for fell walking; his appearance only spoilt by the paw prints of the dog.
‘I haven’t come far. You see that cottage down there,’ David pointed to a group of white cottages, ‘I’m staying with my aunt … she lives here. This is her field.’ David felt pure elation; he had gone from a nightmare into paradise. The man in the pinstriped suit had told him well done, and it was.
‘How’s Barry keeping?’ David wanted the conversation to continue.
‘Oh, yes … he’s well.’ She hesitated a little.
‘And are you well, Hannah?’
She laughed at his repetition, ‘Yes, yes we’re both well, David.’ And then speaking more soberly said, ‘You know about Barry and Eleanor do you?’
‘Yes, yes. How’s he coping?’
‘He’s doing okay really. I guess he’s known for some time that things haven’t been right between them. I should be in Wales now, but he’s asked me to stay on a bit longer. He’s been so kind to me - he’s treated me like a father and it’s the least I can do for him.’
David’s eyes widened at this statement and he was reassured. ‘So you’re leaving for Wales soon?’
‘Afraid so… .’ Hannah pulled at some tufts of grass from beneath her and, as she ripped and tore at them, she sub-consciously tossed them into the air. ‘There’s a practice in Cardiff waiting that specialises in small animals. But I hope I can come back soon.’
David hoped so too.
‘You said you needed a drink? Please … please come to the cottage. I’ll make you some tea, or perhaps a cold drink,’ and he raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you really need to be in the village?’
‘No… . No, not particularly. I’d like that, but will your aunt mind?’
‘Oh, she won’t mind… . Besides, she’ll be asleep.’
With his back still aching, David struggled to stand. He picked up Hannah’s rucksack and threw it across his shoulder.
*
David left her sitting in the garden and went to get some lemonade. He brought a bowl of cold water for the dog; anything, to make a good impression. He was pleased all was tidy in the garden; that he’d bothered to cut the grass and repair the garden furniture.
‘My aunt will be out in a minute… . She’d like to meet you.’ He set the tea tray on the grass in front of her.
The old lady came outside into the sunshine and took Hannah’s hand and David graciously relinquished his seat for her.
‘Aunty, this is Hannah Robson, she works for the vet. You remember Barry Fitzgerald, don’t you?’
‘Ah, Hannah. I’m pleased to meet you … I really am. So you’re a friend of Davey’s are you?’ This was certainly an answer to her prayer.
‘Yes, I am a friend - I hope.’ Hannah replied.
Betty talked at length to her about the cottage, and about the farm she used to work at Spickle Howe with David’s late uncle.
Hannah deduced that she was talking about the old man that had been murdered, and marvelled how much like Kathy Keldas, this old lady managed to keep a sense of dignity about the tragedy that had touched her. She was open and happy, and it had only appeared to be David out of all of them, that had been severely affected by it.
Hannah liked Betty; she could see that David was comfortable and much changed living with her. He was different, not only in his appearance but also in his manner. Yes, Barry was right, she had misjudged him.
David sat on the garden wall opposite, happy to let his aunt do most of the talking. He looked at his watch. ‘Where have you left your car?’
‘It’s at Bowness. I’ve come across on the ferry.’
‘Oh, dear child… . You’ve come all this way alone!’ Betty said.
David laughed, ‘my aunt believes in silly stories. There’s supposed to be the fabled Crier of Claife, who haunts the woods. He was allegedly sent insane by an “encounter” while he rowed his ferry across Windermere. She thinks he’s still up there don’t you, Aunty?’
Betty looked disapprovingly at him, and Hannah said, ‘I’ve had a lovely walk. Please don’t worry about me Mrs Keldas. I’ll really enjoy the walk back. I’ll be fine.’
‘I’ll hear nothing of it!’ Betty tapped her two walking sticks on the ground. ‘This mischievous young man of mine will take you back to the ferry,’ she insisted. ‘David… . Please drive Hannah back… . It’s late and she must be tired.’
‘No … no really, I’ll be fine.’
David jumped off the wall and took her bag. ‘It’s no good arguing with her, Hannah. I’ll take you back. I’ll get the car out, or we’ll never hear the last of it.’
She put up no further resistance and, for the second time that day, David drove to the ferry.
They talked most of the journey. David told Hannah of his job at the pub, no longer wanting to hide anything. She told him about her job prospects in Wales and how much she would miss the Lakes. This was the longest one-to-one conversation they’d ever had.
He parked the car and they walked down the slipway together; they saw the ferry on the opposite shore, ready to leave.
‘Give Barry my regards, won’t you,’ David said as he stood close beside her, not looking at her but staring out across the lake.
‘Why don’t you come and see him? I’m sure he’d love to see you.’
David was surprised. ‘Do you think so?’ He stood bolt upright with his hands pushed deep into his pockets.
‘Of course he would. Why don’t you come tomorrow night, it’s his day off. Maybe we can all go out for a drink or something?’
‘Well, if you think he wouldn’t mind.’ David turned, looked her in the eye and smiled, then picked up her rucksack. He awkwardly slipped it on her shoulders and inadvertently felt the touch of her soft hair on his hand. He felt compelled to lift a lock of hair away from the strap and curl it around her neck.
‘Call tomorrow evening then, Davey.’
‘Tomorrow?’ he stressed.
‘Yes, tomorrow.’
The ferry approached the slipway and David walked as far as he could with her. And as he watched her playfully wave at him he took in a sharp intake of breath as he realised she had called him Davey.
*
Betty was talking to a neighbour over the garden wall when David returned. So he dodged inside the cottage and rushed upstairs to his room. He frantically began to sort through his clothes. His laundry basket was crammed full so he pulled out socks and underwear ready to wash. He looked at Fred’s old blazer hanging in his wardrobe, pulled it out and muttered as he threw it down on the bed. He thought of his best suede jacket hung in the wardrobe back at Keld Head and knew he had the motivation needed to return. David dropped his shoulders and muttered, ‘I’ll have to go tomorrow!’
19
KELD HEAD - THE RETURN
The early morning sunshine cast pleasing glances on Keld Head. It had windows like eyes that watched and waited. The slated roof on the farmhouse appeared wet from the glare, despite the tiles being roughened from years of weathering from rain and snow. The porch on the front door was like a large mouth wishing to welcome and to say hello and come inside. It had spat David out but, today, it waited expectantly for his return.
The small Pele tower beside the barn had a flat roof, and it cast a dark shadow on the yard. This was a cold corner. It was never used for animals, only ever used as a store for bags of fertiliser and the like, its value long gone. And no more was Keld Head in fear of Celtic intruders; it had its own civil war, culminating in the death of Fred and George Keldas. Moss had fallen or had been removed by nesting birds from the dark recesses of the tower and it littered the darkened yard. But in contrast there were a few spring flowers growing in crevices on the garden wall, cascading down in lilac and white, glowing in the sunshine and mingling amongst the faded daffodils.
This is where east watched west and grey watched white - a cold war.
*
Da
vid walked out early this morning and noticed the first of the bluebells flowering in the woods, and the wild garlic he crushed under his boots gave off their pungent scent. He wondered if Hannah had seen them yesterday and guessed she would have liked them. He thought she was a spirited girl to walk alone, and he assumed she must be a good walker to come all the way from Nab Point. He smiled when he thought of his aunt’s concern over the fabled Crier of Claife. David had walked that forest night and day and never feared a thing, except his own personality.
He wondered today how it would feel to go back home. It would be easier than he imagined. The day was fine and dry and that helped.
The stone signpost bore the name of Grasmere and as David drove on through the busy town packed with visitors, he felt secure with his anonymity. Just a drive up the hill, across the fell road, under the trees and over the bridge to the small hamlet of Keld Head. The old Volvo should have been familiar with this journey.
David tried not to think of who he might meet or what he might say. He’d been unsettled in the night thinking about this, and decided to just go and get his suede jacket and a few of his belongings. That would surely signal once and for all that he wouldn’t be staying. He didn’t belong to Keld Head anymore and it seemed to have abandoned him long ago. The only hope he had was that he might meet Linzi first; she’d already been the icebreaker. He felt then that he could leave with no resentment and begin to mend the rift he’d had with his mother.
He swung the car around into the yard, the gate was wide open and all was silent. He didn’t look about and resisted the urge to look across to the tower. He walked straight into the kitchen; the door was unlocked. Again, all was silent.
David noticed that the kitchen was as clean and tidy as usual and as he edged quietly around the parlour door, saw the fire was laid ready for lighting, the oak furniture was polished, and the house appeared to be empty.
He called upstairs but still no response. He ran up to his bedroom, jumping two steps at a time as he used to. He pushed open the door and walked in. He felt like an intruder.
His bed was made, his books and papers were all in place, and his clothes folded neat and tidy, much as he’d left them.
Quickly raking through his wardrobe and pulling out jackets, trousers and shirts, David threw them down on the bed. And much like a thief, he rooted through his chest of drawers for pullovers and underwear. He took an armful of clothes and carried them outside and began to fill the backseat of his car.
He’d brought some cardboard boxes with him and, clambering up the stairs, started to pack his personal belongings, and then methodically searched through his bookcase. He unplugged his hi-fi system and boxed up his records. He felt no remorse; he needed to get this job done.
*
Kathy drove into the yard; she had just taken the children to school and had left Linzi struggling to move an electric fence.
She saw the old Volvo outside the house and hurried across to it. She ran her hands along its bodywork and patted it with gratitude. She muttered, ‘He’s come. He’s come at last!’
On the front seat of the car was a bunch of flowers which she thought must be for her, but in the back, she could see his clothes. Yes, he had come, but with what purpose?
She walked into the kitchen to go upstairs, when David suddenly appeared at the door carrying an armful of books. She looked at him and time froze; images suspended in space, and she wanted to say a name, a man’s name, but it wasn’t David’s. She wavered a moment and as they stared at one another, she fell to the floor like a lump of stone.
David threw down his books and rushed to her, lifting her head and calling her. ‘Oh no… . Oh no… . Mum, please.’ He gently patted her cheek, then her hands, as he pulled her close to him. He crouched to the floor with her huddled in his arms as he tightly held on to her.
Linzi came into the kitchen and seeing her mother on the floor, ran across. ‘Oh, for goodness sake David, what have you done to her now?’
David stuttered some words. ‘Nothing… . I’ve done nothing. She just fainted. I think - I hope.’
Kathy started to come round and as her head thumped so hard, she squinted as she tried to open her eyes.
‘Linzi… . Hurry. Get her a glass of water. Are you okay, Mum?’ David softly spoke. ‘Try -try to stand.’
He helped her to her feet and, for the first time in months, Kathy looked closely at her son. ‘I’m sorry… . I’m so sorry, Davey. I thought you were someone else.’
Linzi looked at her brother, bewildered.
David led his mother to the parlour and sat her on the sofa. Kneeling beside her, he held a glass of water in one hand and supported her shoulder with the other. ‘Please drink it. I’m sorry I gave you a shock.’
Kathy continued to stare at David. She had wished and prayed for this moment for so long. There was so much to say to him: the reasons why she’d done things the way she had, desperately wanting to apologise and accept full responsibility for her actions. She gently stroked his cheek; his bold forehead now exposed, and then she rubbed his short cropped hair. ‘You just look so different, you gave me a shock.’
She didn’t want to tell him how thin he looked. Linzi had warned her, but the scale of it was unexpected. Neither had she seen him with his hair so short in years, not since he was a little boy. His skin looked paler, yet his eyes were clear and blue. He appeared to be calm.
‘Linzi… . Please leave us alone love, for just a few minutes,’ Kathy begged.
Linzi hesitated. She wanted to hear David explain his way out of this one, and to know why they’d argued in the first place. She too had many unanswered questions. But after another purposeful glance from her mother, she left them alone and reluctantly closed the parlour door behind her.
This wasn’t what David wanted, he didn’t want to speak to his mother, in fact he couldn’t.
‘I’m just relieved you’re safe and well, son. Everything that’s happened between us is all my fault,’ she looked him in the eyes. ‘I don’t want you to bear any remorse. I’m sorry, Davey, for the way I’ve treated you. I never intended things to be like this.’
David couldn’t stand to hear anymore of her apology. He didn’t want to have to wrestle with more turmoil, and was afraid he might lose the grip on the freedom he had and the prospect of some happiness at last. So he stood up and walked away from her and went across to the fireplace; crouching over the hearth, he took some matches and lit the dry sticks and paper.
Kathy started again, but David interrupted her. He stood and looked, not directly at her, but through the mirror. ‘Don’t - don’t say anymore… . I know you’re sorry, and so am I… . I’ve just come back for a few things, that’s all.’
His cold words hurt.
‘I only wanted to explain, Davey.’
‘I don’t think I can take any explanations just now,’ he turned to her again. ‘You can’t know how hurt I’ve felt… . Almost to the point of feeling betrayed and disowned. I’ve got to build my life again and I’m slowly doing that. Please be patient with me. But there’s just one thing I feel I owe you though - and that’s about Joanne.’
Kathy took a gasp of air as she waited for his comment.
‘You were probably right to tell me I would be a fool to marry Jo, maybe I was, I don’t know. I just wanted to do the right thing.’
‘And what have you done?’
‘Nothing… . Absolutely nothing. She doesn’t want me anymore,’ and he turned his head and finally looked at her. ‘And that suits me, I suppose. I just felt I ought to tell you, so you needn’t worry anymore on that score.’
David waited and wondered if she would reveal any knowledge of Joanne’s relationship with her late husband, but she didn’t, so he continued. ‘I just had to tell you that’s all,’ he repeated and shook his head.
‘I’m sorry if I seemed over protective,’ she softened again. ‘I didn’t want you to end up in an unhappy marriage, and all for the wrong reasons. For that,
I can speak from experience.’
David didn’t want to hear anymore and now wanted to go. ‘You’ll manage won’t you? Tell Tom and Sarah I’ll come and see them soon.’ And he opened the door and left the room.
‘David… .’ she tried to call him back. ‘If you ever feel you do want to ask me anything, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.’
He stopped at the door, his back still to her and paused, then continued to gather up the last of his belongings.
Linzi, from the viewpoint of her bedroom window, saw her brother leave. She rushed back downstairs where her mother was at the kitchen sink reluctantly preparing lunch. ‘Where’s he gone now?’
‘He’s gone back to Betty’s… . He won’t come back now.’ Her eyes were full of tears.
‘Why didn’t you stop him?’
‘How could I… . He’s twenty-four in a few weeks time, he’s a grown man, how could I stop him. He must do as he likes.’ Kathy was flushed and dabbed the tears away from her cheeks with a paper tissue.
‘He can’t just leave us, Mum!’
‘Oh, yes he can, love. Why should he stay? We never stopped you from leaving and going to college and you didn’t have to come back this time.’
‘It’s different for me though, isn’t it?’
‘Why… . Why should it be any different?’
Linzi was choking on her words. ‘Because he’s the eldest. He’s your son.’
‘Yes, he is my son, and that’s why, for once in his life, I’m going to let him do what he wants. He’s given most of his life to this farm. He’s done his bit and now it’s up to us.’
Linzi restrained herself from banging her fist on the kitchen table. ‘Oh why did Dad have to be so stupid and leave David out of his will? I just can’t understand it.’
‘Linzi, you should know by now that you’ll never understand anything your father did.’
‘I think he was jealous of David. You were always fussing around him… . No wonder he hated him.’
Kathy didn’t want any more of this; Linzi was getting far too close to the truth. ‘Stop it, stop it now … ! Your father didn’t hate David. Don’t you see he was punishing me. It was me he hated; it was his way of getting at me.’
Northern Spirit Page 30