Betty had only been given a partial explanation of why David was in trouble with the police, and had only been told he’d had a row with Joanne and she had attacked him; Betty had surmised that Joanne and David must have been lovers at some time. She was pleased this was no longer the case: she didn’t care for Joanne Milton.
‘Sit down, Hannah. Talk to my aunt and I’ll make some tea before you go.’ David ushered her into Betty’s parlour.
Hannah looked around the room at the furnishings, old and dated, yet becoming for Foxglove Cottage. This was the first time she’d been inside the house and could see why David loved it here. It had a smell about it which she found reassuring, a little fusty and old, but welcoming. The sun had cast a pleasing glow to the parlour as Hannah looked out of the window; a velvety purple clematis tumbled in the breeze above the lintel.
She went across to the mantelpiece and picked up a photograph. ‘I’ve seen this one before.’
‘Yes, David was about thirteen then,’ Betty said. ‘He won that prize for the best calf in show. That’s Mr Fitzgerald with him. You can take it if you like.’
‘Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly … it’s yours.’ Hannah put the photograph back in its place and sat down.
‘No, take it please. I have a tin full of them in my dresser. I have that one three times over. I’ll maybe show you them all one day.’
‘If Aunt Betty wants you to have it, Hannah, take it, or we’ll not hear the last of it.’ David said.
‘So, Davey, I hope you haven’t got used to the finery up at that big house in Windermere; you’ll come down to earth here. It was good of Mr Fitzgerald to help you. He’s been a good friend to your family.’
David eyed Hannah, but she was still looking at the old photograph; this was David’s problem and time for him to change the subject.
*
Hannah left him at Foxglove Cottage, with eyes full of tears. She cried all the way to the ferry. The photograph of David and Barry was on the seat beside her and each time she looked at it, more tears came. David had hugged her and kissed her, and had helped her to leave, yet she couldn’t speak; he had found it hard too. He promised to write and call when he could and she wondered how often that would be.
*
Alan Marsh swept the floor of the dairy and glanced around the door as he thought he heard the Mercedes leaving. He had been fumbling around looking for more work to do; he should have been in Barrow-in-Furness by now. He’d been called in to help Barry with a heifer that was lame and needed an injection of penicillin.
Alan had noted that Kathy spent a lot of time in Windermere visiting David. He was pleased David hadn’t got into any serious trouble, but what the trouble was, he didn’t know. He didn’t understand why Barry had put David up, thinking rightly that David had some attachment to Hannah.
He could visualise David going out of control with his abrupt manner, his self-centred attitude, and now this trouble with the police. It irritated Alan not to know why the police had held him for so long. He thought perhaps it was for a serious motoring offence, like drinking and driving. Alan had even spent some evenings at the hotel where David worked, hoping that someone would gossip. But all he heard was that he had been sacked for not turning into work after the police had called. Alan felt David was turning into a waster and had no time for him anymore.
Then Kathy had invited Barry in for coffee. Alan was hurt that he hadn’t been confided in. He also knew that Barry’s wife had left him, and that he and Kathy did have a brief fling when they were teenagers and he feared Barry might get back into Kathy’s life.
As much as Alan had wanted Kathy; he had once hoped he could have married her. But now he knew he couldn’t deal with David’s prominence in her life. Tom and Sarah, well, they were just kids, and he did have a good relationship with the boy; poor thing, he’d now been deserted by his father and his brother. Alan guessed that Linzi’s moods would drive him crazy, and he wondered if his relationship with Kathy would have to remain as it always had been: just good friends.
As Barry left, Alan went indoors in an excuse to tell Kathy he had to leave for Barrow. She appeared calm and happy. Her hair was neatly styled in a knot and twisted up on her head and her lips were glossy with lipstick. The work clothes had gone and she was wearing a pretty summer dress and this week, since the incident with David, she had left the house every day neatly dressed, and Alan guessed that this wasn’t just to please her son.
‘You look radiant today,’ he looked longingly at her.
Kathy realised he would feel abandoned and immediately attempted to make some coffee to compensate him.
‘No… . No coffee. I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.’
‘Well, thanks again for helping. I don’t think we could have managed it ourselves.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you would. It’s a pity you have to manage on your own at all.’
Kathy didn’t want any old wounds re-opened. She knew exactly what Alan thought of David and hesitated before she spoke. ‘When will you come again?’
‘I may pop back tonight,’ he said hopefully.
‘Ah … I won’t be in.’
‘That’s okay, don’t worry.’
‘Well, it’s Barry. He’s feeling down at the moment and I promised I’d call. Hannah’s gone today, you know.’
‘Yes, but isn’t David still with him?’ Alan hinted.
‘No… . No, he’s back at Betty’s today.’
Alan’s mind mused over the situation. ‘Well, I’m off then.’ And realising he was no longer required, headed for the door.
‘Alan,’ she called him back. ‘Don’t go yet. There’s something I want to tell you. It’s hard for me to say this.’
‘I don’t think you need to say anything, Kathy… . It’s you and Barry isn’t it?’ And he held on to the door handle.
‘Oh Alan.’ She couldn’t stop herself from moving in close to him. ‘You’ve been a good friend. You’ve stuck with me through a lot, and I’ve always been open with you about my feelings. I hope I’ve never led you on, have I?’
‘No, Kathy, you haven’t. I’ve led myself along,’ he sighed.
‘I don’t know what will happen between Barry and me - if we can catch up after all these years. Will you be hurt if we can make it work?’
Alan pushed his shoulders back and took her hands. ‘Don’t even think it, Kathy. Why should I deny you any happiness?’
‘Alan, you are a wonderful, wonderful man. And I love you dearly.’ She kissed him on the forehead and he moved away.
*
David continued his existence at Foxglove Cottage living in a kind of euphoria because everyone that mattered loved him again. And the effect this had on his well-being was apparent. And as spring turned into summer, David’s skin tanned and his blue eyes shone, and he kept his hair short. He found some lunchtime work at a bar in Hawkshead, which meant he didn’t have to worry about being away from Betty for too long. It gave him the escape he needed from caring for her, and enough money to pay some of the household bills and put petrol in his car.
He rarely left Hawkshead for days at a time, except for the occasional invitation to Barry’s house. Barry also called at the cottage regularly, as it gave him some insight into Hannah’s life, as she wrote long letters to David.
Betty had welcomed Barry, and found something pleasing about him. He reminded her of David. Perhaps that was why she liked him. But she couldn’t understand why they met so often; he was too old to be David’s friend.
Kathy was never away from the cottage, bringing casseroles, cakes and puddings and any home cooked food she had time to prepare. Betty felt this was unnecessary, as she and David were happy living on sandwiches and soup.
David continued to do more work around the cottage. He painted the outside of the house, spending long days up a ladder, stripped to the waist, whitewashing the walls and painting the window frames. He repaired some of the guttering, pointed some of the outside wall that h
ad crumbled, with mortar. He put some plants in the garden: marigolds and petunias; he chose Betty’s favourites. And then when he was tired, they would sit together in the garden under the hot sun, Betty beside him, wearing a large straw hat to shade her from the heat. She slept long and contented now.
Mrs Challenor had to be called in to help her bathe. Kathy washed and set her hair, and it was David’s job to clean the house and do the washing and ironing. He even found time to paint the kitchen.
Betty’s jumping heart told her this would be her last summer; so she spent the time completely indulged in her nephew. She felt that she’d reached a happiness she had never known. But she had moments of confusion and sometimes didn’t know if she was talking to David or her Freddie; she wondered why Fred should have to work at the pub in the village at lunchtime. David agreed that for one day a week he should have a day off, away from Betty, and even on those days he could never return to Keld Head, so he just walked.
Betty was fragile as she entered her ninety-third year and David his twenty-fourth. It was apparent that there were some things he could no longer do for her. But her desire to stay in the cottage with him and see out the rest of her days meant they had to bring in outside help. And in the long evenings when she slept, David could only sit and watch, frustrated at his inability.
In those quiet evenings he wrote his letters to Hannah. She’d insisted he tell her everything about the building repairs and the painting of the cottage; almost every cup of coffee he had. One morning David collected the mail from the hallway floor and, as he always did, read the handwriting on each envelope first. There was nothing from Hannah, but there was a letter with an Aberdeen postmark. He knew it was from Joanne.
His immediate response was to throw the letter on the fire, but he held it for some time in his hand, staring at the writing, expecting more abuse or emotional blackmail. He tapped the letter on his hand and then, in a desire to prove himself undaunted, went to his bedroom, flopped down on the bed and ripped the envelope open.
25ClaireTerrace
Aberdeen
Dear David
Tony has insisted that I write to you, he has been playing “Big Brother” again. It’s a few weeks since I met you in the forest and I’m sorry to hear that you have a bad back. I hope it’s better, and I hope I didn’t aggravate it too much.
Tony is back with us again for a little while. He’s well, and surprise, surprise is earning good money as a session’s guitarist. We were relieved that you didn’t have any more trouble with the police. Tony insisted that I apologise to you, but I cannot do that.
I just wanted to tell you that I never intended you to get into trouble. After you left me, I sat by a tree and tried to breathe properly again - you did hurt me, Davey. I tried to clean myself up a bit and dry myself. I think I was crying, when a couple walking their dog passed by. They were worried about me. They walked me back to their car and took me to the hospital and they must have called the police. It was the police who forced me into making the charges.
I was sent back to Aberdeen, to stay with Aunty Marian again. When Tony arrived and we had another row and he insisted that I dropped all charges. The police asked me if it was you that had hurt me, but I lied and said I didn’t know my attacker. But I was still angry with you Davey.
By the way, I hear you are going out with Hannah Robson. I hope she can make you happy.
I don’t know if I can ever say sorry for what I did. You’ll never know what it feels like to be pushed around and hated. Everyone loves you, Davey. My Mum left, Dad’s never at home, Tony’s always teasing me. Then there was George, then you. I never loved him, Davey, I hated him. I only ever loved you. I only wanted to be loved like you are, but I guess I don’t deserve that now.
Incidentally, Dad is selling the bungalow. He says it’s of no use to us anymore.
Tony said I had to tell you he’s coming down to see you soon. Please try not to hate me Davey, will you. I will always love you.
Joanne
David placed the letter down on his chest and wondered at its sincerity. He knew Tony would never have asked her to write; that was another lie she’d told.
If Tony had been the instigator of his freedom, he inwardly thanked him. But he would find it hard not to hate Joanne. She had done him so much harm, but he did pity her, she was only eighteen and just a kid. He feared she would never trust anyone again because of George’s badness and his own loose conduct.
He tore the letter into small pieces; he wouldn’t tell Hannah she’d written.
*
Linzi buttered the bread, spreading it thinly in an attempt to make it go further, and then piled the slices on the plate. Her mother was beside her at the kitchen table, filling the slices with egg mayonnaise, some with grated cheese or a layer of ham and tomato. She cut them in half and arranged them on a large blue plate. There were pork pies, cut into quarters, and a few bowls of crisps and green salad garnishes.
‘I hope we’ve done enough.’ Linzi brushed her hair from her eyes trying not to coat herself with butter.
‘Well, they’re not coming for the food. A cup of tea and a sandwich is all I can offer. If it helps sell the cattle, it’ll be worth it.’
‘I still feel uneasy about it… . What time do you think they’ll start to arrive?’
‘Well, knowing these farmers, they’ll want a good look at the cattle first. The catalogue was well written, but your Dad always liked to weigh an animal up long and hard before he spent any money.’
‘I hope we’re not doing wrong by him.’
‘Look, Linzi … this is your farm now. If you want to get up at six each morning to milk these dairy cows, we’ll keep them; but you can’t can you? None of us can. Besides, we can’t afford to keep paying the relief milkers… . No, love, I’m certain we’re doing what’s best. With all the upheaval in Europe as well; your Dad said it would spoil farming.’ But Kathy knew that Linzi’s concern ran deeper than the money.
‘It’ll be sad to see them go, all the same.’ Linzi continued to moan. ‘All the hard work that went into breeding them and our Davey’s not interested anymore.’
‘Oh, he’s probably switched off, Linzi. You know what he’s like. It’ll bring back too many bad memories to think of Keld Head… . Anyway, he’ll be pining for Hannah, and Betty will be driving him crazy.’ Kathy smiled as she thought of David trying to satisfy Betty’s finicky ways, making breakfast and getting into trouble for putting too much butter and marmalade on her toast and putting too much milk in her tea.
‘I still feel angry with him though. He could have at least come to help us today.’ Linzi slapped the last piece of ham on the sandwich and placed it with the others.
‘If he’d have wanted to come, he would have.’
‘Then he must really hate this place.’
Linzi still didn’t understand why David had left, and assumed he was afraid. She too found it hard working among the buildings that her father had once worked, not because of fear, but because of the memories. But Linzi never saw her father with a shotgun in his hand. She wasn’t there to witness his death or to hear the great noise as the gun went off, or see his dead body. Linzi often sat alone in the tower, crying; she knew her father took his last breath there, and she would sit and wonder how she could give it him back. She once asked her mother if David ever mentioned his final words. But Kathy had lied, saying David was more interested in protecting Joanne than listen to anything that George had said. So Linzi had to be content with the last words her father had spoken to her at the prison, and then it all made sense: “Davey’s laughing at me, isn’t he? It’s as well he doesn’t come or I’ll finish the job off proper. Take his money now, because he’ll soon have none!” Linzi knew David had been punished by her father’s death; he had no money, and her father had got his wish: his death was the only way he could have succeeded.
*
Farmers were talking, grouped together in corners of the yard, some swearing, and some laug
hing. A few of them were dressed smartly in tweed and green jackets, and others looked like they’d just fallen into a midden. Blue smoke was drifting in the air from cigarettes and pipes. A small queue formed to inspect the cattle, which were eating the clean straw, unaware that they were about to leave their home. Kathy watched the farmers wandering about the farm buildings; many had never set foot in Keld Head because of her dead husband’s suspicious nature. Some had only come to see what sort of a job the Keldas women had made of the place and to see for themselves, if the rumours were true, that David Keldas had abandoned his family.
Before the bidding was due to start Kathy came indoors to make more tea and fill the urns with hot water. She had set up a makeshift dining area under the hay barn and had put out a trestle table, spread with the pies and sandwiches.
She stopped and looked out of the kitchen window as she waited for the kettles to boil. Linzi was right: George would have hated this; strangers on his farm, with cars parked in the yard and lining the lane. She also had worried if they were making a mistake, but it was too late to change their minds; soon the bidding would start and Kathy knew that by three o’clock that afternoon, most of George’s cattle would be scattered the length of the county.
Kathy had promised the children a celebration meal that evening. She’d put a large piece of sirloin in the Aga, and later she would make some Yorkshire Puddings and a trifle, she’d even bought a bottle of Champagne.
As she stood watching, waiting for the kettles to boil, more people arrived. She looked out and saw a small group of young men over by the tower, laughing. She saw Darren Watson, David’s friend from college, and she guessed he’d come to see Linzi; there was definitely something going on between them. She watched them thumbing through their catalogues and arguing the details; John Cardwell the auctioneer was with them.
A kettle started to boil so she went across to fill some flasks with hot water and then returned to her vantage-point at the kitchen window. The laughing continued and Kathy lifted her hand to her mouth as she spotted David with Darren Watson, he was pointing at the catalogue. Somebody else approached and shook David’s hand, another came and patted his head.
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