Above the Harvest Moon

by Rita Bradshaw

  Rose stared at Jake. Silas had been a man without moral conscience, without a shred of normal human compassion come to that, and yet his son had enough for two men. Perhaps that was it, perhaps God in His wisdom had given Jake a double portion to even things out. If that was the case, God might be infinitely wise as the priests said but she didn’t think much of His common sense. Her lad’s thinking was a torture to him these days. Immediately her hand went to her pinny pocket for her rosary as she asked the Lord’s forgiveness. She had found she was having to do that more and more lately. ‘I doubt it, lad. What will be, will be,’ she said softly. ‘As Father Gilbert said, it was Joe’s time.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  The sound of the baby crying upstairs filtered through to the kitchen and as much to change the subject as anything, knowing how Jake felt about Father Gilbert, Rose said quickly, ‘That bairn’ll need changing again, poor little mite. Red raw her little backside is because she’s never changed from one day to the next. How Lily can be the way she is is beyond me. I’ll just go and tell her to see to the bairn, but,’ she stood up and put her arms round Jake’s broad shoulders, placing her face against his for a moment, ‘I’m right glad for you, son. If anyone deserves good fortune, you do.’

  Jake sat quietly after his mother had left the room. He heard her remonstrating with Adam’s wife and then the sound of raised voices. How did his mother put up with it? Would life go on like this for her until she was an old woman?

  The rain was lashing against the window with ever-increasing fury but the glow of the fire in the range made the kitchen cosy. He reached for a girdle scone and bit into it, and then he heard the back door open. A moment later Adam opened the scullery door into the kitchen. They stared at each other for a full ten seconds while the rain dripped off Adam’s cap. Then he came further into the room, his tone aggressive when he said, ‘What are you doing here?’

  Rose reappeared as he spoke and before Jake could reply she said, ‘I could ask you the same question. Why aren’t you at work?’

  Adam held up a bandaged hand in answer. ‘Sliced my hand open. The deputy sent me to get it stitched and said I’d have to lose a shift. So?’ He looked at Jake again. ‘What’s brought you here at a time of day when most men are doing an honest day’s work?’

  Staring unblinking into his half-brother’s full-lipped handsome face, Jake’s eyes narrowed. Adam’s tone had done away with any desire for appeasement. Taking in a slow, long breath, he delivered what he knew would be a crushing blow to the younger man. ‘I’m here to see my mother and I come and go when I see fit after giving my manager his instructions for the day.’

  It was as though Adam had become transfixed, every feature of his face stiffening as he visibly struggled to take in the significance of what he’d heard.

  Knowing he was turning the knife but unable to help himself, Jake said,‘Daniel’s turned out to be a good manager. He’s come on in leaps and bounds in the last months, as his wage reflects. I wouldn’t want to lose him.’

  When at last Adam spoke, his voice betrayed his fervent hope that what he suspected was not true. ‘Your manager? Huh! Take a sight too much on yourself, don’t you?’

  ‘Daniel is my manager, Adam. Same as the farm is mine, lock, stock and barrel.’

  ‘It . . . it can’t be. You were no relation - I mean there must be others standing in line . . .’

  ‘If you’re asking if Farmer Shawe had family eager to take over, then the answer is yes. A nephew was always sniffing around which is why Seamus made it crystal clear in his will what he wanted. And what he wanted is for me to inherit in place of his son who was killed in the war.’

  There was silence in the kitchen.Then Rose bustled forward, saying, ‘Take your coat off then and sit down. I’ll get a sup of tea—’

  ‘I don’t want tea.’ Such was Adam’s fury that he pushed his mother from him when she went to help him off with his coat.

  ‘Don’t manhandle her.’ Jake stood up as he spoke.

  ‘Says who? You’re nowt here whatever you are at that farm.’

  ‘You treat her with respect or so help me I’ll make you.’

  ‘Oh, we’re really into playing the big man now, aren’t we? Well, let me tell you, you don’t impress no one here. Licking the farmer’s boots to worm your way in. You’re scum, toadying scum.’

  ‘No, please, Jake.’ Rose was between them, holding Jake back. ‘I can’t stand any more, I’m at the end of my tether. Please, lad.’

  Looking down into her drawn face, Jake slowly relaxed his taut muscles and took a step backwards. He gathered up his coat from the back of the kitchen chair. Adam said not a word but as Jake left the kitchen by way of the hall, the two men exchanged a glance of pure hatred. Whether it was this that drew Adam into the hall as Rose was saying goodbye to her son on the doorstep or the fact that Jake inheriting the farm was a bridge too far wasn’t clear. But as Jake turned to untie the horse, Adam came up behind Rose, his voice sneering as he said, ‘That’s it, go like the whipped dog you are.’

  Jake covered the distance in one stride, grabbed Adam by the front of his shirt and yanked him down the step into the street. It was Adam who got the first punch in but then Jake hit him with enough force to take him off his feet and into the running gutter. Adam scrambled to his feet and came back at the bigger man with fists and feet but Jake’s superior height and breadth gave him an advantage, only matched by Adam’s talent for dirty fighting.

  The rain continued to pour down as the two men fought, deaf to Rose’s entreaties which brought neighbours from several houses either side out onto their doorsteps. It ended as it had been bound to, with Adam on the ground once more but this time unable to rise. He lay writhing, his face covered with blood, as Jake stood over him. Rose pulled at Jake’s arm. ‘He’s had enough, lad, leave him be,’ she cried. ‘Please, Jake, no more.’

  Jake’s face was bereft of colour but for the bright red of blood from a cut to his mouth and another above one eye, and his eyes were like black granite. After a moment he straightened, flexing his bruised hands.‘You talk to me like that again and I’ll kill you, you hear me, Adam?’

  Adam had ceased moving, lying with his arms over his face as though he feared Jake was going to kick him, but as Jake shrugged off Rose’s hand and untied the reins, he sat up, nursing his stitched hand which was now bleeding heavily. As the trap began to draw away, Adam shouted, ‘That’s it, go back to your farm.’ Taking in the watching neighbours with a sweep of his head, he said, ‘He came to tell us he’s the master of a big farm now, bragging how well he was set up, and to prove the point he goes for me when I won’t kowtow to him. Nice, eh?’

  Jake didn’t hear any more, he had jerked the reins and the horse was trotting down the street away from the knot of people. When he reached the corner he looked back for one brief moment and saw that it was not his mother who was bending over Adam, another couple of women were doing that. Rose was standing watching him leave, one hand grasping her middle and the other pressed over her mouth.

  ‘I was a fool. I knew he was trying to provoke me and I should have just come away, damn it.’

  Jake was sitting at the kitchen table and Hannah was busy bathing the cuts to his mouth and eye with a mild solution of salty water. Her voice held a touch of exasperation as she said, ‘Why didn’t you then?’

  ‘For the same reason I rubbed his nose in it about me getting the farm I suppose.’

  ‘You did that? Rubbed his nose in it?’

  He looked up at her. ‘Aye, I did, and don’t look at me like that. I’ve never pretended to be perfect.’

  ‘You’re certainly not perfect.’ She stood back a pace. ‘And did it make you feel good after?’

  He glared at her. ‘No. It should have because to my mind I’ve every right to get under his skin the way he’s been, but no, it didn’t. Satisfied?’

  She did not answer this directly. Instead she took the bowl and cloth through to the scullery and it was from t
here she said, ‘Your mother would have been upset.’

  ‘Thank you for pointing that out.’

  When she reappeared in the kitchen, her face was tight. ‘I’ll make a cup of tea.’

  ‘I need something a darn sight stronger than tea.’ He stood up, his face glowering. ‘I’ll be in the study if anyone wants me.’

  When she was alone, Hannah let out a long irritated sigh. Jake had said he was a fool and he was right, he’d played right into Adam’s hands. And this was the man who had been humming and hawing about whether to take the trap because he didn’t want to appear to be bragging! Adam would make a meal out of this with the neighbours, he’d already nailed his colours to the mast by calling out what he did as Jake left the street. Everyone would think Jake had started the fight and Adam was the innocent. Oh, Jake, how could you have been so stupid?

  Her face flushed with anger and she continued to hold herself stiffly for another moment or two before suddenly plumping down onto the seat Jake had vacated. Did it matter what the neighbours thought? Did it matter what any of them thought back in the town? Here on the farm they were in their own little world, a world where everyone appreciated Jake for the man he was. Why was she getting so het up on his behalf?

  After making herself a cup of tea, her panacea for all ills, she sat exactly where she was for almost half an hour. At first she told herself she didn’t know why she was making such a fuss about Jake letting Adam goad him into a fight, then her innate honesty kicked in.

  No more woolly thinking. It was as though she was having a conversation with another part of herself. She liked Jake, more than liked him. Something had slowly happened over the last twelve months, something she would have termed impossible a year ago. It didn’t matter that he thought of her in the same way he thought of Naomi - no, that was silly, of course it mattered but it didn’t make any difference to the way she felt.

  She glanced round the shining kitchen. She could never reveal how she felt. Their relationship had developed into an easy one where they could say anything to each other; she could never do or say anything to jeopardise that. Besides which, he was now a wealthy man and she knew Farmer Dobson’s daughter had been after him for ages even before this. No doubt there would be others who would be giving him the eye once word of his new standing spread.

  For a moment her mind raced as she considered the possibility of Jake bringing a wife into the farmhouse. Would she be asked to stay on as housekeeper or would she be expected to leave? Could she bear to stay on and see him married to someone else? And then she shook her head, impatient with herself. She was putting the cart before the horse here. He might not want to marry. He hadn’t thus far. But then he was a very private man and not given to showing his feelings. Who knew what he really wanted?

  As she got up from the table, a shiver ran through her whole body. She didn’t know if it was because the storms of recent days had chilled the air and suddenly everything was cold and damp, or the fact that through Jake and Adam fighting she’d been forced into admitting something she had refused to recognise for weeks now. But nothing had changed, not really. Everything could go on as before.

  A day at a time. One of her Aunt Aggie’s favourite sayings rang in her mind. That was the way she had to cope with this. All the fretting in the world wouldn’t change anything and it wasn’t as though anyone knew, her secret was her own and would remain so. The only person she could have confided in who was unconnected with Jake was her Aunt Aggie and that avenue was closed to her.

  But for now there was the dinner to see to, the steak and kidney pie wouldn’t prepare itself. She squared her shoulders, smoothed down her pinny and got to work.

  Chapter 18

  It was an unusually rainy autumn, everyone said so, and for weeks the ground outside the farmhouse resembled a quagmire. Even the animals seemed sick to death of the weather and the hens showed their displeasure by laying fewer eggs than normal. October had come in with wind and sleet showers and November was a bitterly cold month. On a particularly nasty wet November afternoon, when hail and icy sleet with a force eight gale behind them was sweeping the north-east, Hannah had a visitor.

  In spite of it only being two o’clock in the afternoon she had just lit the oil lamps when a knock came at the front door of the farmhouse. This was almost unheard of. Only Farmer Dobson and his daughter and one or two of Seamus’s old friends stood on such ceremony, and Farmer Dobson hadn’t been near the farm for weeks since Jake had made it clear to his daughter that he had no intention of availing himself of the comfort she had seemed determined to give.

  Quickly discarding her pinny, Hannah smoothed her dress and patted a stray tendril of hair into the bun at the nape of her neck before hurrying through to the hall and opening the front door. ‘Mam?’ Her mouth fell open as she surveyed the soaked woman on the doorstep.

  ‘I-I had nowhere else to go. She . . . she’s thrown me out. Just like that.’

  Pulling herself together, Hannah said,‘Come in, come in.’ She stood aside for her mother to step into the hall. She had been in the process of making a pot pie for their dinner when the knock had come but she didn’t lead her mother to the kitchen but up the stairs to the sitting room. She lit a fire in there most days now to keep the dampness from penetrating the furniture and by mid-afternoon the room was as warm as toast.

  ‘Come and sit by the fire.’ Hannah looked at her mother but Miriam wouldn’t meet her eyes. ‘You’re soaked through, I’ll fetch some dry clothes.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Miriam put down the cloth bag she was holding which, like her, was dripping water onto the polished floorboards. ‘I caught a tram as far as I could but then I had to walk the last mile.’ She held out her hands to the warmth of the blaze.

  Hannah said nothing more and left the room swiftly. In her bedroom she did not immediately select some clothes for her mother but stood for a moment gazing blankly ahead. Her mother. Here. She felt at a loss how to handle the situation. She wished Jake was around but he had gone into town on business and wouldn’t be back for at least another hour.

  When she returned to the sitting room, Miriam was standing exactly where she had left her. ‘I . . . I didn’t like to sit down. Not wet through. Everything’s so lovely . . .’

  ‘Here’s some of my clothes, I think they’ll fit you.’ Hannah placed them on an armchair with a towel. ‘I’ll get some tea while you change and then I’ll be back.’

  She took her time making the tea. Fingernails of sleet were tearing at the window and the wind was howling, but it was nothing to the turmoil inside her. Her stomach was churning and she felt physically sick. From what her mother had said, it was obvious her aunt had forced her to leave the flat. Did that mean Aunt Aggie had found out about her husband’s affair with his sister-in-law?

  She placed a number of jam tarts and some butterfly cakes on a plate which she put on a tray next to the tea things. She was aware she was moving slowly, delaying the moment when she would have to return to the woman upstairs.

  When she walked into the sitting room, her mother was clothed in the dress and cardigan she had given her, her wet clothes folded on top of the cloth bag. She was sitting in a chair close to the fire and immediately she said, ‘I know what you must be thinking, me turning up like this, but I had nowhere else to go. I . . . I wondered if I could stay overnight, just till I sort out what I’m going to do.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Hannah pulled out one of the occasional tables and placed the tea tray on it. She poured two cups of tea and passed her mother hers along with a tea plate before she offered the plate of tarts and cakes. Miriam took a small cake but did not begin to eat it; instead she crumbled a morsel in her fingers and said,‘Your aunt recently had an operation. Were you aware of that?’

  ‘I knew she needed an operation. I didn’t know she had had it.’

  ‘Oh yes, she’s had it and come through remarkably well for a woman who has supposed to have bee
n dying for years.’

  It was so bitter, the venom in her mother’s voice, that it caused Hannah to blink.‘She’s home again then?’

  Miriam put her cup and plate on the table. She sat looking down at her hands which were joined on her lap, her bony fingers making small stroking movements between the knuckles.There was an embarrassing silence before she said, ‘She came home today from an establishment in Seaburn where she’s been convalescing for three weeks since leaving the hospital. Her new doctor arranged it all.’

  Miriam’s tone left Hannah in no doubt as to how her mother viewed this new doctor. ‘I see.’

  ‘She walked in the house, walked in mind, and sat herself down and told me I was no longer needed.’ Miriam’s voice was trembling but the look on her face told Hannah it was more with rage than anything else. ‘My services were no longer required, that’s what she said, and he stood behind her with his hands on the back of her chair and said not a word in my defence.’