‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Ma’am,’ and as the policeman opened the cottage door and saw the old lady, he bowed his head in respect. ‘Don’t be alarmed.’
‘Please, officer … please sit down.’
‘No that’s okay, Mrs?’ he hesitated. ‘I’m sorry I don’t know your name?’
‘Mrs Keldas … Betty Keldas.’
‘Ah … right. Mrs Keldas. We’re just making house to house enquiries … perhaps you can help us?’
Betty was relieved by his reassurance.
‘A young woman was attacked up in the forest on Wednesday morning,’ he said. ‘Have you seen anyone acting suspiciously or heard anything?’
‘No … . Certainly not.’ Betty told him. ‘Many people come this way, because of the footpath.’
‘Do you live here alone Mrs Keldas?’
‘No … . My nephew lives with me … he’s a good lad, there’s not many that would take care of an old woman like me. Oh, look, here he is now.’ Betty saw David’s car pull into the driveway and as he walked through the garden his lameness was obvious.
The policeman waited for him to enter, and having time to examine David’s face wasn’t sure if he knew him or not.
David threw his keys on the table, put down his rucksack and spoke abruptly. ‘What can we do for you officer?’ David could see a look of distress on Betty’s face and continued to speak authoritatively. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘So you must be Mrs Keldas’s nephew?’
‘She’s my great-aunt actually… .’ David tried to be clever and continued to look scornfully at the policeman.
‘And what’s your name then, son?’
‘David … David Keldas.’
The policeman came forward to formally shake his hand. ‘Ah, I thought I recognised you. You’re from Keld Head, aren’t you?’
David nodded in response, as he in return recognised the policeman as one of many that had called at the farm over the last few months.
The policeman asked David the same question he’d asked Betty, but this time he worded it differently. ‘Were you in the area, or did you see anything suspicious on Wednesday morning?’
David was in a trap and cautiously replied. ‘Why do you ask?’
The peculiar look on David’s face and his manner irritated the policeman. ‘Just answer the question, please?’
Betty had been watching for David’s reaction and quickly interrupted. ‘He’s been sick… . He’s been in bed all week.’
‘Is that right? So you haven’t seen anyone acting suspiciously?’
In sheer disbelief at how his aunt had replied David repeated. ‘No … no why?’
‘And where do you work?’
‘I’m off sick at the moment… . I’m a barman.’
‘A young woman was attacked up in these woods and I wondered if you knew anything about it?’
David denied all knowledge.
‘Well, that will be all for now, Sir … but if you do hear of anything, please call us won’t you. We want these hills to be a safe place for people to enjoy.’
The policeman returned to his car and met his colleague on the lane. ‘Do you remember the lad from Keld Head? George Keldas’s son. Well, he’s in there. He’s got scratches on his hands and face, and has a bad leg… . I don’t trust him at all. The old woman covered for him.’
*
Betty saw David wipe his brow as the policeman left. He grabbed his bag to go upstairs and change. ‘Don’t you dare go anywhere young man… .’ Much strengthened, she rose to her feet. ‘You come right here and sit down now!’
Fearing her wrath more than the policeman’s, David knew he was in trouble. Yes, his elderly aunt had covered for him and, although she was very old, she certainly wasn’t stupid.
‘Now you tell me about your day?’ as she resumed her place at the table and David was compelled to join her.
As he sat before her, he put his hands nervously behind his head and then brushed his fingers through his dark hair, making the short black strands stand on end.
‘I’ve had a brilliant day with Hannah… . We didn’t make Scafell, my back was too bad. I’ve taken her home and that’s all… .’ He raised his eyebrows arrogantly.
But that certainly wasn’t all; he had no desire to confuse his aunt and tell her that he’d learned Barry Fitzgerald was his real father.
‘And that’s it, is it?’ she replied. ‘So what about Wednesday, David?’ her look was determined. ‘I want you to tell me about Wednesday? What really happened up in that forest?’
David glared back at her unable to answer. He couldn’t lie - not to her. He just sighed and shook his head.
But Betty was a match for him and cruelly waited, knowing he would feel compelled to fill the silence.
He sat forward in his chair and came closer to her. ‘Aunty, I can’t tell you what happened but, please, trust me.’
She saw David’s skin glowing with colour from the sun and the exertion of the day, and it belied the fear of his sin being discovered, as he appeared less strained than he had been in weeks.
‘I may be in serious trouble… . You see, I met a friend in the forest… . Someone who has a grudge against me and, shall we say, things got out of control… . Thankfully, I’ve harmed no one, though, you must believe me.’ David was relieved that Joanne’s strength had prevented him. ‘I’ve probably been hurt more than anyone has… . If I have to suffer for being human, then so be it, but please believe me, none of this - none of it, is my fault.’
‘David… . You’re not making any sense?’ Betty softened.
‘You must trust me, then. I can’t tell you what happened, but I’m so sorry if I’ve worried you.’
‘If you insist you can’t tell me, I can’t make you, but when will all this end?’
‘I don’t know … I just don’t know … I wish I did. I feel I’m being punished for something - for someone. I don’t know what… . There’s a bitter after-taste in my mouth from the things my father did… . But I’ve had a great day with Hannah, and I think a lot of her and I hope she feels the same way about me. I want to rebuild my life. I thought after today things would be better, but I’m not sure anymore.’
‘Davey … if you can’t speak to me about what’s happened, please speak to someone… . Your mother … this Hannah.’
‘There’s no one else I can talk to about the trouble I might be in.’ David knew there was someone, and that was Tony Milton, but he was hundreds of miles away in Edinburgh, yet how could he tell him he’d tried to strangle his sister. He also knew if he were found out, he might lose Hannah and, for the chance to keep her, he would do anything - anything. But why should he bother to preserve George Keldas’s name and keep silent about his abuse. He had done nothing for him only abuse him too. But it wasn’t just his name, he had his mother and his sisters and his brother, and then there was Betty; there was Keld Head and everything he’d ever known. He cursed the man; he despised him, and began to pity Joanne the more. If what she’d said was true, she wasn’t totally to blame, and perhaps her way of handling things was a just punishment for a wicked man. But to punish him as she’d done; how could she? She had driven him to violence, and must despise him now.
David knew he must fight. He mustn’t let go. Hope was in his grasp and it was so real and close, that he could touch its warmth.
He wished now he’d stayed longer with Hannah, but her revelation about Barry had made it awkward for them both. David felt he couldn’t see Barry; he would have to be mentally prepared, and Hannah would have to let him know she’d told David the truth. Barry was still a friend and David knew, eventually, their relationship could change.
He recalled Barry’s kindness to him, how they had often worked together, laughing and cursing at the cattle, struggling with their various ailments. How Barry knew all the time that David was his own flesh and blood. He remembered sitting with him on the straw bale in the loosebox; the intimacy they had as he’d unburdened his
mind about George Keldas’s trial. What must he have thought? Did he say anything that would have hurt him? Had Barry enjoyed their meal together, and David wondered how he’d felt, sitting with his son and the girl he wished was his daughter. Yet David never once considered why Barry hadn’t told him the truth.
He’d had some wild ideas at one point that Alan Marsh could have been his father, but had never considered Barry Fitzgerald. He knew they’d all been friends as young people, and knew that his mother did have some kind of a relationship with Alan, but he had cringed at the thought.
Then the question arose of why his mother actually married George, and why did they decide never to tell him the truth. Was it just as George had said, and he had kept his promise not to tell? But now David’s new heritage had at last given him a sense of respect and a full identity. But this latest incident with Joanne, if the police discovered the truth, gave him further reasons to worry. How could he possibly hurt Barry; he would wish he’d never fathered him at all. Even though the reproach would be silent, it would hurt.
*
David spent the following morning tidying the garden. Despite the fact that his leg and back were still aching, he cut the grass and washed the car. As late morning approached, he knelt on the lawn to clean the mower. He’d carelessly smeared grass and oil over his t-shirt and jeans. He was still unshaven and looked grubby; he smelt of newly cut grass.
David had been humming to himself and whistling, when he heard a car pull up on the lane and stop outside the cottage. He looked up and saw the same policeman that had called yesterday. The man approached and stood tall above David as he continued to kneel on the grass.
‘Good morning, David,’ the policeman had a partner standing with him.
David didn’t rise and, kneeling on the damp grass, felt totally defeated. He’d hoped they wouldn’t return, but to come today at this time, just when he was about to wash and change and meet Hannah.
‘So then, young man… .’ the policeman began.
David struggled to his feet holding his aching back.
‘Some of your neighbours tell me that you’re partial to walking up in these woods. In fact, some have gone as far to say that you probably walk these woods every day. Is that so?’
‘I walk up the Heights a lot … yes.’
‘So could I ask you again, if you were up in these woods on Wednesday, May the 3rd?’ The look was serious.
‘I possibly was… . I can’t remember.’
‘Then why did your Aunt tell us you were at home and sick in bed?’
‘I have been sick… . I have a bad back. My aunt’s an old lady, she must have been mistaken by the date.’
‘Then if you were sick, why didn’t you call work to tell them. They’d no idea where you were.’
David was pained to know that the police had been checking up on him.
‘I think it might be an idea, son, if we talk about this a bit more!’ The policeman looked at the cottage door wide open and, guessing that Betty was inside, continued. ‘We either do it here or - you know the rest!’
There was no escape for David; he was in deep trouble and not wanting to cause his aunt any more worry, relented. ‘I’ll come with you … but please let me tell her where I’m going.’
David went indoors and kissed his aunt goodbye. Betty had seen him talking to the policemen and she knew why they’d returned.
‘Please don’t worry, Aunty… . It’ll be all right. I’ll sort it.’
But Betty was worried; she was desperately anxious for him, and felt he was walking out on her life for good. She’d guessed this time would come, but not in this way and not with these men. She watched them drive away and immediately went to the telephone and did something she should have done days earlier, and called David’s mother.
*
‘Right David… . Just answer our questions and you’ll be home before you know it.’
The cold room smelt of disinfectant and was lit only by an artificial light. David was sitting on a hard chair, his hands clenched together and resting on the table in front of him. His eyes were piercing the table; he was a faded mirror image of George Keldas.
‘On the 3rd of May, a young woman was assaulted on Claife Heights, and was left injured and soaked to the skin. If not for a couple of passers-by, she could have died of exposure. Now lad, I’ll ask you again. Were you up in the forest on Wednesday morning?’
‘Yes … I was.’ David quietly replied.
‘And did you meet anyone?’
‘I was alone.’
‘And did you meet anyone one!’ the policeman repeated.
‘I saw a few people, yes.’
‘Did you talk to anyone?’
‘I may have done.’
The detective banged his fist down on the table. ‘Answer me properly, lad!’
David was shocked at this outburst and ashamed. He felt disgusted at his own attitude and appearance. These two men were smartly dressed: one in a uniform, the other in a suit, and yet he was in old, dirty clothes and he could smell the grass cuttings and body odour on himself. He looked wretched.
‘You have some scratches on your hands and face,’ the policeman continued. ‘Where did you get these?’
‘I caught myself on some branches.’
‘Stand up – take off your shirt?’
David felt humiliated by this question and reluctantly rose to his feet and complied. And as he stood before the two men, cold and semi-naked, he wanted to cross his arms over his body to cover himself, despite knowing his chest was clear of marks.
‘Move closer.…Turn around?’
David obeyed and one of the men came up close to examine his back.
‘How did you get this bruising?’
‘I fell against a tree.’
‘Put your shirt back on and sit down.’ The policeman resumed. ‘Do you know a young woman called Joanne Milton?’
There was a long pause before David could continue.
‘Yes, of course I do.’
‘In December last year, you were involved in an incident, where Joanne and her brother were admitted to hospital suffering from hypothermia. The nurses told us Joanne had bruising on her arms and back and you were with her that night. On Wednesday, that same young woman was assaulted on Claife Heights. She was admitted to the same hospital with bruising on her neck! Now, David, can you tell us about this, please?’
‘Joanne’s a strange girl… . She does things to herself.’ David foolishly continued remembering Linzi’s former explanation. ‘Anyway, she shouldn’t walk the fells alone. It’s not safe.’
‘You’re irritating me now, David! Did you assault Joanne Milton on Wednesday the 3rd of May?’
David paused, he’d remained firm, he hadn’t lied so far and he didn’t want to lie, but what could he say. Whatever he said would condemn him. He was trapped and completely lost. He didn’t know what time it was; surely, he should be with Hannah by now. What would she think of him if she knew he was here? If she knew he’d been minutes away from murder. Yet he could not let her go, this still wasn’t his fault, his only hope would be lost if he told the truth.
‘I did not.’ he lied.
The detective slapped his hand down again on the table. ‘Get him out of my sight!’
David was pulled up out of the chair by the arm and led to a small room with just a bed and a hard chair. ‘You’re not going home yet. So don’t think we’ve finished with you. I can hold you as long as I like.’
As the door banged shut behind him, David went across to the bed, sat on the mattress and put his head into his hands. He wondered how low he’d sunk and felt humiliated to be treated like a criminal. This was all Joanne’s fault. She had thrown a wild card, and she may have succeeded in getting her revenge. Was he also to be punished for the sins of George Keldas?
He didn’t know what Joanne had told the police. Had she spoke the truth? Did they really know it was him that had assaulted her? And now he too had lied, he was wo
rth nothing. He had sunk as low as all the others: his mother, George Keldas and Joanne. He had despised them for their deception and now he despised himself.
David fell back on the bed, resting his arms under his head as a pillow and stared at the ceiling. He lay quietly for what must have been hours. He was alone with his destructive thoughts with no concept of the time. Hannah lost; the farm lost; probably his job; he was disowned by all; even his real father would surely hate him now.
David heard a woman’s voice outside as the door unlocked and it immediately comforted him. He sat up on the bed and waited, expectantly. His mother came into the room, with a tall man wearing a pinstriped suit.
David got up, his head bent low, and moved slowly across the room and hugged her; she pulled his head close to her bosom.
‘Davey - Davey. What are we to do with you?’
She lifted his head and looked him in his eyes. ‘Come on, son, we must talk.’
David looked up at the tall man and recognised Angus Piercy, Betty’s solicitor.
He took David’s hand and shook it. But David was ashamed to stand before this immaculately dressed, elderly man.
‘David … please sit down… . We’ve come to help you.’
‘Just tell us what happened. I know you couldn’t have possibly hurt that girl.’ Kathy said. ‘You can trust us … please tell us.’
‘It’s true….I’ve been arrested for assault. It would be better if we were alone, Mum.’ David spoke in soft and broken tones.
‘I think it’s time we did some straight talking, David, and Mr Piercy should stay… . He can help you.’
‘Then if that’s what you want,’ and David began.
David took hold of his mother’s hand. ‘If I tell you the truth, it’ll hurt you so much, but I don’t think I can keep it inside any longer. I’m sorry it has to be this way … I’m so sorry.’
His face was pale and his eyes looked grave. Kathy wondered what he’d done that could upset her so much and she looked questionably at Angus Piercy.
Northern Spirit Page 34