Above the Harvest Moon

by Rita Bradshaw

  Jake was standing straight, stiff and tall, and his voice came deep and throaty when he said, ‘I don’t believe you. My father died over thirty years ago.’

  ‘Aye, well, like I said, there were reasons I had to make meself scarce and them same reasons kept me away. I didn’t want to go.’ His voice softened, becoming almost fawning. ‘What man’d want to leave his wife an’ bairn? But I’d have ended up six feet under if I’d stayed, that’s the truth of it. And I knew Rose’s mam and da’d take you both in, that you’d be well looked after. Aye, I had no worries on that score.’

  Jake stared at the little fellow in front of him. He didn’t want to believe there was a shred of truth in his story so why did instinct tell him the opposite? And then he realised. The man was the spitting image of his Granda Fletcher. His mam had taken him to see his paternal grandparents once a month until they had died, his grandma when he was eight and his granda a year later. He had hated those visits. His face was hard, his voice equally so, as he denied what his mind was telling him and said again, ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘It’s the truth, why would I be lying? Look, I can give you chapter and verse on the Fletcher side of the family.’ He reeled off a few facts and figures. ‘And after I married your mam, we lived in Hood Street, next to the Murrays. Remember them? Nosy old crow, she was.’ He paused, his voice taking on the wheedling note again. ‘I know this is a shock, me turning up like this, but you could act a bit more pleased to see me. You like this because of the accident? Your mam filled your head with lies about me, eh? I didn’t mean for you to get hurt, lad. I swear it. I didn’t mean for no one to get hurt, whatever she’s told you about how things were atween her an’ me. We were having a row and things got out of hand, that’s all.’

  Jake’s brows came together. Accident? Was this man who was calling himself his father referring to the day he’d pulled an oil lamp on himself?

  ‘Look, when I threw that lamp, it was out of temper. I didn’t know you’d put yourself in the way of it. You was just a little nipper, you moved too fast. It was one of them spur-of-the-moment happenings no one could have prevented, whatever your mam’s told you.’

  A terrible realisation dawned. Jake felt sick with it. His ears ringing, he said, ‘You did this to me?’ as he touched the side of his face.

  There was a long moment of silence broken only by the dog’s low growling. His voice less confident, Silas muttered, ‘I told you, it was an accident. What did she tell you anyway?’

  Jake did not answer this. What he did say was, ‘You did this to your son and then you left the same night?’

  ‘I had to, I told you. Besides, I didn’t think you’d make it, I didn’t think you’d pull through. I’m glad you did, lad, but I couldn’t stay around, it was more than me life was worth.’

  All his mother had ever told him about his father was a lie. This shifty little individual in front of him was living proof of it. Jake wanted to sit down, his legs felt shaky, but a sixth sense told him to reveal no shred of weakness to the sharp eyes fixed on his face. His father was alive. The repercussions of this return from the dead were beginning to dawn, not least for his mother. She couldn’t have known he was still alive, she wouldn’t have married again knowing. ‘My mother . . .’ He had to clear his throat before he could go on, ‘She thinks . . .’

  ‘I was that bloke they pulled out of the water,’ Silas finished for him. ‘Aye, I know. And the way I see it, there’s no reason to upset the apple cart, not with her having wed again and having bairns by this Wood bloke. That’d make them bastards, an’ her - well, like I said, I don’t want to upset the apple cart. Rose always placed great store by her good name. He’s a miner, I understand. Not working though. Must be tight for ’em with just one lad down the pit and another here working for you. You help your mam out a bit, I dare bet.’

  Jake said nothing. He just waited. He had no idea what had brought his father back to the north after thirty years but whatever it was, it wasn’t to play happy families.

  After a few moments, when it became clear Jake wasn’t going to respond, Silas rubbed his thumb under his nose, bending forward slightly as he said, ‘I don’t see meself staying round these parts for long, lad, in case you were wondering, but I had to leave where I was in something of a hurry, you know? Upset a few people. The thing is, it’s left me a bit short. I was wondering if you could spare a pound or two to tide me over, me being family an’ all and you having this great big farm.’

  So that was it. Jake stared into the bullet-hard eyes. A pound or two, his backside. It wouldn’t stop at a pound or two.

  ‘Like I said, I don’t want to throw a spanner in the works by making meself known to your mam and her other family, but at the same time a man has to live. You understand?’

  He understood all right. His father would remain out of the picture if he paid for his silence. He could scarcely believe this was happening. ‘How much would it take for you to clear off back to where you came from?’

  Silas blinked. ‘That’s not very nice, is it?’ he said mildly. ‘Me just having come back an’ all. I want to get to know me son a bit, that’s natural. Anyway, like I said, there’s reasons I can’t go back down south for a time. But I give you me word I’ll lay low, all right? How about we have a little chat every week about this time out here, eh? That suit?’

  Jake had delved into his pocket as Silas had been speaking. Holding out the contents, he said, ‘There’s thirty bob there.’

  ‘Lad, lad . . .’ Silas sighed, shaking his head, his whole attitude one of sorrowful disappointment. ‘It wouldn’t be worth the walk from town every week for that. I’ll take this for now but come next time we’ll be looking at a fiver, all right? No, make it ten. I know you wouldn’t want to think your da is going without.’

  ‘I don’t have that sort of money to give you each week. The farm holds its own but that’s all. My money is tied up in the stock, I’m not rolling in it, whatever you’ve been told.’

  ‘Look, son—’

  ‘Don’t call me that.’

  Jake’s voice brought Flossie rearing up, her mouth stretched in a snarl. Silas shrank back against the wall of the barn. ‘All right, all right, keep your hair on. But ten’s me price. It’s not going to be for ever. Come a few weeks an’ I’ll be gone.’

  Jake ran a hand over his face. In spite of the bitingly cold air, he was sweating. He’d like to knock this little weasel into next weekend and tell him to go to hell, father or not, but how could he? If Silas followed through on his threat and went to see his mam, it would destroy her, it was as simple as that. She’d never be able to hold her head up again. All her scrimping and saving, all she’d put up with through the years would be for nothing. The fact was, his mam was legally married to this man. Dear gussy . . . ‘I don’t want you coming onto the farm again, someone’ll see you. I’ll meet you out on the road next Sunday once it’s dark.’

  ‘Anything you say, lad. Anything you say.’

  ‘And if the faintest whisper of this gets out I’ll kill you and take the consequences, do you hear me? Like you said, I’m a Fletcher and I know how to look after myself.’

  ‘I know how to keep me mouth shut, don’t you fear. And there’s no need to take on, I don’t want your mam upset any more than you do. Don’t forget she’s me wife, Jake.’

  For two pins he’d beat the living daylights out of him. It took every bit of the self-control he’d gained during the last thirty-three years but he was able to say quite coolly, ‘I don’t see it that way and I doubt if the law would. You left Sunderland of your own free will and you didn’t let my mother know you were alive from the day you left. In fact, you let her believe the opposite. She’s not your wife any more than I’m your son.’

  ‘Aye, well, I can see you’re a mite put out so I won’t argue the point except to say how was I to know they’d pronounced me dead until I come back to these parts? And the last time I heard, a man an’ his wife remain wed until they’re legall
y divorced or widowed. Still, we won’t put it to the test, eh? We’ll keep it nice and friendly like. Best all round. I’ll be going then and I’ll see you at the weekend, Sunday evening like you said. Oh, an’ happy Christmas.’

  Jake’s body language must have said plenty because Flossie rose to her feet snarling loudly, poised to attack. Jake restrained the dog by touching her head and saying, ‘Wait, lass.’ To his father, he said, ‘I suggest you make yourself scarce before her natural instinct to kill vermin takes over.’

  ‘No need to be like that, lad. I come here in a spirit of reconciliation, it being Christmas an’ all, and it would pay you to keep a civil tongue in your head. I don’t want no trouble and what’s a few pounds to keep everyone happy? I believe in looking after your own, I was brought up that way and that’s all I’m asking for. Anyway, I’ll be off now but afore I go, I’ll just mention I’m not by meself up here. There’s a pal of mine who knows where I am and what I’m about and he’d blow the whistle if I went missing. Just so’s you’re in the picture.’

  Long after the small figure had slipped away, Jake stood with his hand on the dog’s head in the darkness. The sky had begun to cloud over and the moon had been swallowed up. It was going to snow again, he could smell it, he thought dazedly.

  He had done the only thing he could in the circumstances. The alternative was to plunge his mam into a living hell. He nodded to the thought but it was scant comfort. What he would have really liked was to have got chapter and verse from his father as to what had gone on before he left Sunderland and in the intervening years. His father had been fighting with his mam the night he’d gone missing; it was his father who was responsible for the scars he had sustained. Furthermore, this man was not the hard-working husband and father his mother had painted but a character who looked to be capable of anything. Including blackmail. And the irony was, his father had walked out on him and his mam, let them believe he was dead all these years because of some trouble he’d been in, and now he was being forced to pay for the privilege of Silas Fletcher keeping his mouth shut. It would be laughable if it wasn’t so serious.

  Jake was chilled to the bone by the time he walked back into the house. Hannah was in the kitchen, a pot of tea and a plate of turkey sandwiches on the table. She was slicing a ham and egg pie and she glanced up as he entered, her eyes bright as she said, ‘I was just about to come and look for you. What on earth have you been doing?’

  He looked at her. She was nineteen years old and as bonny as a summer’s day, but it was her manner and the natural warmth that radiated from her that drew people. He’d seen it time and time again. And she thought his father had been a decent, upright man, like she imagined he was. But he didn’t feel decent, not having talked to that man out there who had sired him. He felt dirty, humiliated, less than nothing.‘Like father, like son.’ How often had he heard that phrase bandied about? He’d even used it himself when he’d thought about Wilbur and Adam. And now he had seen the stock he’d come from and he felt ashamed. He couldn’t ever let her know.

  He made himself smile when he said, ‘What have I been doing? Having a party out there, what else?’

  ‘Oh you.’ She nodded to the table. ‘Come and sit down an’ have a bite.’

  He sat down. He didn’t want to eat, all appetite was gone and the bile of bitterness was tart on his tongue. This put the tin lid on any hope he’d had of making Hannah love him, not that it had been anything other than a foolish dream.

  But no more dreaming. The stillness of hopelessness settled on him. He was done with all that. No longer would he allow his mind to clutch at fleeting imaginings. He knew what the future held for him now. And come the spring he would make it clear she should go, leave the farm. He’d do it gently but make sure she saw it as being done without sentiment on his part. Her kind heart would baulk at leaving if she thought he wanted her to stay. He had to face the fact that a large part of her affection for him had pity as its foundation, he’d known it all along really. But she had her whole life in front of her and she couldn’t waste it forever being housekeeper to such as him. If she didn’t want Daniel, there would be someone else for her out there. And he couldn’t stand her being around, not now.

  ‘Are you all right, Jake?’

  Her voice came to him, soft and concerned, and he glanced up to see her watching him. ‘Never better.’ He reached out for a sandwich, bit into it and swallowed before he said, ‘Just thinking over some plans for the New Year, that’s all.’

  Chapter 23

  ‘What do you mean, you was up at Jake’s place? What the dickens were you doing there?’ Wilbur stared at Adam.

  ‘Ssh. Keep your voice down.’ The two men were sitting in the bar of the Friendly Tavern in Southwick Road, Adam having invited his father out for a drink half an hour before. Wilbur liked nothing more than a drink on a Sunday evening, not so much for the drink itself but because of the camaraderie that was part of it. On the occasions Wilbur had the price of a gill on him he would make his way to the Colliery Tavern or the Friendly, but he wouldn’t do as some did and go in with his pockets empty and his tongue hanging out, waiting for someone to take pity on him. His pride wouldn’t let him. Of late he had taken to going round the greengrocers in the market and picking up their orange boxes for a farthing each, chopping them into sticks for firelighters, which he’d tie into bundles with string and sell round the doors in Bishopwearmouth or Hendon at tuppence a go. He always went over the river to sell his wares, he would rather have died than let his neighbours know what he was doing. But tonight his son had asked him out and he was like a dog with two tails.

  ‘Is that where you go sometimes? The farm?’Wilbur’s voice was low, and when Adam nodded, he added, ‘It’s the lass, isn’t it? Hannah. You’re meeting her on the quiet.’

  ‘What? No, no, nothing like that, I swear it. She doesn’t know I even go up there. I . . . I just like to see what’s going on, that’s all. It’s easy enough to make sure you’re not seen.’

  Wilbur’s voice held a touch of pity when he said, ‘Lad, lad.That’s a mug’s game. One day you’ll be tumbled and what’ll you say then?’

  Adam shrugged impatiently.‘Look, Da, I’ve not come to talk about that, just listen, will you?’

  ‘I’m listening, lad. I’m listening.’

  ‘The thing is, for a few weeks now I’ve noticed an old fella walking that way when I’ve been on my way back into town. I tried to pass the time of day with him once or twice but he weren’t having none of it. He wouldn’t even look at me. Kept his head down.’

  ‘It’s a free country, lad.’ Wilbur took a sip of his pint, smacking his lips.

  His benign expression vanished when Adam leant closer, saying, ‘That’s as maybe, but it’s a bit funny when the dead walk, don’t you think?’

  ‘What you on about, the dead walking?’

  Adam leant back in his chair, enjoying the moment. Then he said, ‘Well, what else do you call it when some bloke who’s supposed to have been six feet under for the last thirty-odd years turns up alive and well?’

  Wilbur stared at his son. ‘You feeling all right, lad?’

  ‘Never better. Don’t you want to know who he is?’

  ‘Go on then.’

  ‘Silas Fletcher.’

  The effect on his father was all Adam could have hoped for. Wilbur had just raised his glass to his lips and now he coughed and spluttered, swearing as beer split down his shirt. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he said, ‘What the hell makes you think it’s Silas Fletcher?’

  ‘I don’t think, I know. He looked a nasty bit of work and so today I thought I’d hang about out of sight and just see where he made for. I’d nowt else to do.’

  Wilbur looked at his son. Adam and Lily had had a barney to end barnies before Adam had disappeared for the afternoon. He didn’t know what was going to happen there. He could see Adam doing for her one of these days, the mouth she’d got on her.

  ‘So I waited till it was
twilight and, sure enough, along he comes. But he don’t pass the farm. Oh no. He stops and hangs about a little way off, furtive like. And then along comes the lord and master of all he surveys.’ This was Adam’s new title for his half-brother. ‘I could tell straightaway they’d arranged to meet. Anyway, I was in the hedgerow and I edged a bit nearer, keeping me head down. Something changed hands. I couldn’t see what. But then I realised it must have been money ’cos Jake says, “I can’t keep giving you ten, you must see that. All my money is tied up on the farm in bricks and mortar and the animals.” Then the old ’un half laughs, sneering, and tells him he’ll have to sell off a few beef steaks unless he wants to watch a touching reunion between his parents.’

  Adam paused for breath.Wilbur was sitting as though poleaxed. ‘I still couldn’t work out what was what at that stage, but then Jake says, “You go anywhere near my mother and I’ll kill you, I promise you that,” all tough like. And the old ’un says something along the lines that whether he likes it or not he’s still his da and still Rose’s lawfully wedded husband.Then Jake tells him to sling his hook and the old ’un laughs again, saying he’ll be back next week. Same time, same place. And he’d better have what he wants and not a penny short. So,’ Adam leant back in his chair again, ‘what do you make of that?’