‘Oh, thank you, God… . Thank you, he’s come,’ she whispered.
*
David took off his jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeves and sat back on the dining chair. Moss jumped up at him and licked his hands and face, sniffing at his body.
‘Would you like to stay for tea Mr Cardwell?’
‘No thank you Mrs Keldas. I think you all need a bit of peace and quiet now. No need to worry about milking anymore eh, Davey?’
David didn’t reply, but just politely smiled and continued to play with the dog. He couldn’t speak, as he too was choked inside to see some of their best dairy cows bundled into the back of a wagon, never to be seen again.
Linzi and Alan came in laughing at some joke a farmer had told them. She went to David and flung her arms around his neck and smothered him.
‘Okay, that’s enough!’ loving the distraction and the attention.
As evening approached, Kathy laid the table and set it for seven: she and Linzi, Tom and Sarah, Alan, David, and Barry. She was relieved at the success of the day: enough money to buy the new beef cattle and some to spare. Her friends about her; her children, her son and her lover. There was an empty chair at the head of the table opposite her.
She didn’t believe in spirits, but a wave of sadness overwhelmed her to see George’s empty chair, as if his absence had struck her for the first time. She looked across at his photograph on the wall, saw his handsome face and felt his gaze. But Kathy was no longer afraid of George or his reproach, he had deeply insulted her loyalty and his jealousy had probably caused his own ruin. She could only thank him for a few important things: their beautiful children: two daughters, and a strong son in Tom, a home and the livelihood she had.
She watched Alan talking to Barry, complaining about the price of animal health products, and she was happy she’d been able to keep his friendship. She looked at David and Linzi, who were now arguing because David refused to take her to see Darren Watson that evening. The two youngest were chasing their food around their plates with their knife and forks, eating only the beef and the Yorkshire Puddings. Sarah tried to steal one of Tom’s puddings, so he jumped up from his seat and, taking his dinner plate with him, went to sit in the empty chair at the head of the table.
‘Tom. You get out of there! Get back in your own chair. If anyone should sit there now, it should be Davey.’
David glanced across at the boy and then looked at his sister. ‘Leave him be, Linzi,’ he softly spoke.
*
It was late in the evening when David left Keld Head. He’d had a wonderful day being with his family, but he had missed Hannah. He intended to write to her tomorrow and tell her the details; she would be pleased he’d gone. David had even taken a little pride in himself today, as he realised that it was some of the breeding he’d introduced that had helped them get a good price for the cattle. He also felt the way was open to return when he could, but only to see the children. Tom would barely speak to him and David knew it would take time for him to be forgiven. Sarah: she was more open and had accepted him straight away; she really believed that David must have been in prison like her father.
David was still uncertain where his future lay, it certainly wouldn’t be at Keld Head; that, he’d resolved some time ago. The only thing he was sure about was that he had to take care of Betty. As for Hannah, he would have to be patient. He would never stand in the way of her studies; she had another year to go at least, and that would give him time to get his life restored and maybe save a bit of money.
He sped along the dark and twisting lanes back to Hawkshead, flinging the old car around each bend, he was tired and content, but anxious he’d left Betty for so long. He had managed to persuade Mrs Challenor to sit with her for some of the day, but David guessed by now she would have gone and Betty would be starting to fret. He hoped she would be in bed and anticipated glancing around her bedroom door just to say goodnight. As he approached the cottage, he saw most of the downstairs lights were still on.
Betty was sitting in her chair watching television, wearing her pink nightdress and dressing gown ready for bed. ‘Oh, Freddie, you’re late tonight. Where’ve you been?’ she whispered.
David went across, crouched by her side and kissed her on the forehead. ‘I’m not Freddie, Aunty… . It’s me, David!’
‘Let me look at you, Davey. Oh, I’m sorry love. I’m getting confused again aren’t I?’
‘Would you like me to make you some supper, Aunty?’
‘Just tea, not too much milk. That would be lovely, Freddie.’
David stood up and went to the kitchen and, momentarily, shut his eyes. He had learnt there was no point in explaining again.
He set a mug of tea on the table beside her and told her about the sale.
‘Tell me again, why your father’s selling the cattle?’ she said.
‘Ahhh…’ he shook his head. ‘We’ll talk about it in the morning. Are you going to bed now, Aunty? Do you want me to help you?’
‘No, love… . You get off. I’ll have my tea first then I won’t spill it.’
He kissed her cheek and went upstairs, carrying his mug of tea in his hand.
David was soon asleep but, by two o’clock in the morning, was awake and turning restlessly in bed and couldn’t settle. He’d eaten far too much that his body had become unaccustomed to. David got up and fumbled in the bathroom cabinet looking for some Rennies and then wandered back to his bedroom, but as he glanced downstairs, there was a glow of light coming from under the stairway door.
He crept downstairs and pushed open the door and could see Betty sitting exactly where he’d left her. The mug of tea beside her was untouched.
‘Aunty … Betty, are you okay? What are you doing?’ He leant over her and touched her hand to rouse her, but all he could feel were cold, lifeless and rigid bones. He didn’t need to examine her further; his hands were shaking as he put out the light and then, kneeling beside her, flopped his head down into her lap.
In the stillness of the night and in the darkness of the room, lit only by the orange embers of a dying fire, David wept, his shoulders heaving with the weight of his loss.
He stayed with her until daybreak, not wanting to leave her alone. David carried Betty’s small and fragile body back to her room and laid it out gently on the bed. He pulled the bedclothes up to her neck and covered her in the pink eiderdown, as if she was sleeping. He waited until a reasonable hour before he called the doctor and the undertaker.
David didn’t know that Betty had died only minutes after he had gone to bed. She’d been unwell all evening and had felt sharp, crushing pains in her chest. She thought she was waiting for Fred to come home; she wanted to stay alive so she could see him one more time.
Betty had looked into his face and seen his warm eyes and the love he had for her, and was glad he was happy. She thought he must have been looking for George on the fells.
*
David Keldas hated funerals, especially when it rained but, today, it was warm and sunny.
Kathy sat beside him on the front row of the chapel, with Hannah at his other side. Sitting so close together, David felt warm and clammy, his body sweating from the exertion of carrying Betty’s coffin on his shoulders, bearing the weight with three others.
Hannah was glad the sun shone for Betty. This lady deserved a good day.
She felt David’s body trembling, so she rested her hand on his arm. They stood for the hymn and then listened as the clergyman delivered his sermon. He appeared to direct all he said to David. Hannah didn’t know how much the eye contact was unsettling him.
The clergyman spoke about the courage of the young and their willingness to take care of the elderly. He mentioned a few lighthearted comments about Betty’s feisty character, people laughed in low tones, not certain if they should.
David wished the clergyman would look at someone else; he didn’t want to be the focus of attention and was glad that most of the congregation could only see the ba
ck of his head; he was unaware of who was behind him.
After a prayer at the graveside, David threw a handful of soil on the coffin. It wasn’t until most of the mourners had left, that he had the courage to look around. Hannah was standing by his side, still holding on to his arm.
Hannah saw David smile and loosen his tie, letting it hang untidily around his neck. He winked at her, happy that the serious part of the day was now over. Hannah realised she needed reassurance, rather than him.
David didn’t particularly want to stay with the other mourners who’d been invited back to Keld Head, but this was Betty’s day, and he must show his respect for her. He couldn’t let her down and go on a drinking binge, as he’d done on the cold wet November day of Uncle Fred’s funeral.
‘Aren’t you going to speak then, Dave? I nearly didn’t recognise you with that haircut?’
David turned to see Tony Milton. He wanted to throw his arms around him but was restricted by Hannah’s arm. But he couldn’t stop himself from moving his body in closer. ‘Never mind my hair … where’s yours?’
Tony eyed Hannah who was holding even more firmly to David. Then taking her hand in his, he kissed it. She was taken aback by his forwardness.
‘Are you coming back to Keld Head for a bite to eat?’ David asked.
‘Aye, if you’ll have me… . If you’ve still got time for an old friend.’
David walked towards his car and Tony stopped. ‘Er, if these are your wheels, I think I’ll walk, thanks. I need to take in some of this air. I guess I’ve missed this place. Besides, I’ve got my image to think of.’
Out of the corner of his eye David was aware of a tall man approaching and wasn’t surprised to see Angus Piercy. He warmly shook his hand.
‘Thank you for coming, Mr Piercy. Will you come back to the farm for a drink?’
‘I’d like that, yes please. But is there somewhere we could speak privately, first?’
David hadn’t noticed the brown envelope he’d waved in his hand, but Hannah had. She knew this was the solicitor that had helped David get out of police custody, but she knew no more.
‘Please come to Keld Head. I can see you there,’ David was reticent. And as he and Hannah drove slowly back through the narrow village street, up the hill and on to the moor road, for the first time in weeks there was an uneasy silence between them.
David took Angus Piercy across the yard into a small office that once was a tack room. It still had some shabby saddles and bridles and other leather items hanging on the walls. There was an empty glass cabinet that used to house George Keldas’s rifles.
David offered the solicitor the only chair; he felt uneasy standing in this small room with such a tall man.
‘I won’t sit down thank you, David.’ Angus Piercy sensed David’s anxiety. ‘I would be happy if you did though. Relax will you.’ But David continued to stand and put his hands in his trouser pockets and rested his loins against the desk.
Angus Piercy pulled the envelope from his jacket pocket and David shuddered.
‘Now, David …’ the solicitor put his glasses on. ‘I have something important to read and it concerns your future,’ he looked at David down his nose. ‘You will be sorry I’m sure, at the loss of your great-aunt, but in the event of her death I’ve been instructed to act on her behalf to be the Executor of her will. And I am happy to read to you her last Will and Testament. If you would like to hear it.’
David legs trembled and in the heat of the small office, felt perspiration trickle down his spine and probably stain the deep blue shirt he was wearing. He brushed some sweat from his forehead with his hands. ‘Er, yes… . Please - please do.’
‘This is the Last Will and Testament of Elizabeth Mary Keldas, of Foxglove Cottage, Hawkshead, Cumbria, made on the first day of May, Nineteen hundred and seventy-four.
I hereby revoke all former wills and codicils and other testamentary provisions made by me and declare this to be my Last Will and Testament.
I appoint on the day of my death, my solicitor, Angus Robin Piercy, of Preston House, Kendal, Cumbria, to act as my Executor.
I devise and bequeath that my great nephew, David Robert Keldas, of Foxglove Cottage, Hawkshead, all my estate: financial, real and personal.
I witness hereof, and I have set my hand this day and year first written.
Elizabeth Mary Keldas.
‘Do you want me to continue, David?’
He just nodded.
‘This is a very simple will, because you are the sole benefactor. Betty has left you all her property - that being Foxglove Cottage and the land at Rye Hills. You will inherit all her estate, personal goods and capital, would you like to know how much that may be?’
‘I’m sorry… . But I can’t grasp what you’re saying.’ David shook his head as if to waken his brain to activity.
‘Well, basically, you’ve been left everything she had. All her property, money and shares, which, when calculated, will be a considerable amount.’
David walked across the office and looked into the empty glass cabinet at his reflection. ‘This can’t be true.’
‘Do you want to see it for yourself?’
David spun around and took the paper from him but could barely read its contents. He only saw his name and he repeated it aloud: ‘Keldas … Keldas … Keldas.’ He dropped his hands and still grasping the papers, said, ‘She can’t do this … I can’t take this. I’m not her relative and you know that!’
Angus Piercy pulled the chair out from under the desk. ‘Sit down David and listen,’ and this time he obeyed.
‘This is a legal document and it cannot without any great contest be changed. It may be so that you’re not Keldas by birth, and perhaps your aunt didn’t know that, but that’s the name on your birth certificate and, I assume, that’s the way it’s going to stay. And although you’re not related to her by blood, neither was she Keldas by blood, she only became so by her marriage to Fred. This was still her dying wish that you inherit everything. The money she had was left from the sale of Spickle Howe Farm after she bought Foxglove Cottage. But let me tell you the circumstances of her writing this.’
The chair that David was sitting on felt like it was moving.
‘Her original estate was to be split between you and your brother and sisters. But when you went to stay with her and look after her, as nobody else had … ’
‘I only went out of sheer need. I couldn’t come back to Keld Head; this place sickens me… . It was pure selfishness that I went to her. I was afraid.’
‘Listen, David. When you brought her to my office a few weeks ago, she told me that George hadn’t left you anything in his will. Of course, I already knew, as I’d been his solicitor too. It was a travesty what he did to you and, at the time, I tried to reason with him to reconsider, but there was no reasoning with George was there. Back then I didn’t understand why he could do this to you, but I have to do as my clients instruct and this was the same with Betty. When you told me you knew George wasn’t your father, it all made sense. I’m glad Betty never knew the truth; she wanted to make up what she thought you deserved. She told me you’d brought her so much happiness, especially of late. She could have changed her mind when you had your brush with the law, but she didn’t. No, David, even if she knew the truth about you, I’m convinced she wouldn’t change her mind. Remember, Fred Keldas gave his life to protect you and now Betty wants to give you his estate!’
‘Well, what can I do?’ The shock was still apparent.
‘Nothing lad, nothing. Just enjoy your life and the hope she’s given you.’ With that he shook David’s hand and left.
Well done, young man - Well done. The man in the pinstriped suit had said.
*
Hannah mingled with the other guests around the farmhouse. Kathy had put on a good spread of food, yet Hannah ate very little. People were talking, drinking tea or a glass of sherry, but Hannah felt isolated. Most of these people were strangers. Some were from Hawkshead, s
ome were David’s relatives, and some were Betty’s old friends. She wished David would come back; he’d been too long with the solicitor.
Hannah cursed the man for coming today; David wasn’t outwardly grieving, he was being strong and she wanted him to stay that way. But she guessed he was in trouble again and his mood would soon change. She watched Tony Milton flirting with Linzi and felt it inappropriate for a funeral. She had no desire to join them. The boy, Tom, was sitting alone and he appeared to be sulking. He ignored Hannah and she assumed he was jealous of her relationship with David. She could have played with Sarah, but she was too tired after the journey up from Cardiff that morning. She wished Barry was here, but he had to leave early for a business meeting. So Hannah resorted to washing some dishes and continued to look out of the window into the farmyard for David. She saw the tall man leave the office. The door was wide open, but David didn’t come out. If he was in any more trouble, Hannah doubted she could cope. Despite the circumstances, she’d looked forward to seeing him today and his composure had lifted her, but now her mood was low; the funeral had reminded Hannah of her mother.
Deep in thought, she put down the tea towel and continued to watch the office door. There was still no sign of David, so Hannah decided to find him and confront him with her feelings. She slipped from the kitchen unnoticed and marched across the farmyard and as she approached the office door David emerged.
He spotted Hannah and, to tease her, took the grin he had off his face, bowed his head low and looked solemn.
Hannah saw David’s countenance and muttered, ‘Oh, not the moods again, please, please, not today. What is it now, DAVID!’
David continued his sham and looked woefully at her. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’
With that, the spirit within her rose and she snapped. ‘What more can you tell me, David? What else have you done?’ Hannah’s face flushed with emotion and she ran from him across the yard and towards the tower.
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