A Dinner Of Herbs (34 page)

business the heart gets up to. And if you’re that strong, you can ask your heart what it feels, and how it’ll

feel when you clap eyes on him. And I know what the answer’ll be. So get on with the

floor, lass.”

And Mary Ellen got on with the floor; and while she scrubbed at the stone slabs, she

thought. She’s

right, she’s right. How many times of late had she imagined him walking through the

door there, then

coming to a dead stop at the sight of her, knowing without a fraction of a doubt that he was the cause of

this great ugly bulge in her body. But she did not think of the life under the bulge as ugly; her thoughts for

it were tender, full of longing to see it, to hold it.

When Kate gave a slight groan, she stopped her scrubbing and looked up; then drying her hands quickly

on her coarse apron, she rose and went to the old woman who had now seated herself in

the chair to the

side of the fire, and bending over she said, “That pain again?”

“Aye.”

“Will I give you the usual... marjoram?”

“Aye, I suppose so. No; I tell you what, I’ll have a drop of groundsel.”

“Groundsel? But I thought that was for making you vomit after poison and stuff.”

“Aye, it does; but a wee drop is good for stomach pain, especially the choler. Bring the jar.”

After Kate had poured herself out a small potion from the jar and had drunk it, she

grimaced and said,

“Well, if that doesn’t work, nothing will.” Then she went on.

“Hand me me tin from the box.”

Mary Ellen dutifully brought the tin from a large black box that stood under the shelves that held the

bottles and jars and, when Kate opened it Mary Ellen looked down on what looked like

the thin slivers

of sweets that could be bought in the candy shop in the market. And she said just that:

“They )ook like

candy sweets, Kate.”

“Aye, but with a difference. Eat a fistful of these and you’d be as merry as a monk after a fast. There’s

great comfort in this rosemary sugar, and we’ll have some come Christmas. I made these at the

beginning of the year for a special occasion. Tell you the truth’ she looked away and

across the room ‘it

was when I had that feelin’ on me that I told you of that my lad would walk in the door.

Still’ she smiled

now ‘we’ll leave some just in case. Oh, there are lots of things in the big box you’ve got to learn, Mary

Ellen. But then you haven’t done too badly. No, not at all. And they’re beginning to

respect you, the

men, I can see that.”

“When they’re not leerin’?”

“Oh, take no notice of that. Anyway, ‘tis but one or two of the dimwits an’ them without a wife.”

“What about the wives? You said yourself, you’ve never had so many women since your

son was

born.”

“Aye, ‘tis true. But they got short shrift, and it’s only me regulars show their faces now.

Anyway,

human beings are like cattle. Oh! no, they’re not. I always question that sayin’ an’ chide me self for it,

because some cattle are more sensible and cleaner than some folks that I could name, an’

not a mile

away at that. Still, everybody must live their own life, as I keep tellin’ you, girl. So finish your floor, then

get the peat in, and I’ll tell you what’—she smiled conspiratorially ‘then we’ll settle down and I’ll take

you through the big box.”

So Mary Ellen finished scrubbing the stone floor, then laid sacks over the front part to take the tread of

dirty feet, after which she brought in armful after armful of peat and stacked it up at each side of the

fireplace. When this was done, she sat down on the bench by Kate’s side, the box

between them, and

so learned more about the mystery and use of herbs and potions. And yet all the while she was asking

herself what she would say or do should Roddy come in that door.

She need not have worried herself on this score, for when Hal returned that evening he brought them a

letter. It had been delivered by the coach to the office in Hexham, together with the mail for the agent at

the mill, and it was picked up by a clerk who, knowing Hal, said, “Would you like to take a letter I have

here for Mrs. Makepeace?”

On entering the room he didn’t hand the letter to Kate but held it in his hand and said,

“I’ve got a letter

here for you.”

“Aye, you have. Well, where’s it from?”

“London.”

“Oh, London.” Her voice was flat as she said, “Well, get on with it.”

He opened it; then looking at Mary Ellen who was sitting at the table rubbing brittle

leaves between her

fingers, he asked quietly, “Would you like to read it?”

“No.” She shook her head, but she stopped what she was doing and stared at him and

waited. And he

began,

“Dear Kate, Tis sorry I am to have to write these few lines, and disappointed I am too, but I will not be

able to manage the journey home for Christmas.

Perhaps it is selfish of me but I’m sure you will understand when I tell you that I have been invited to

accompany Mr. Cottle over to Paris in France to see an exhibition of paintings.

It is a chance that I never dreamed of, and if I had been with you, you would have said, take it, ‘cos

chances like that won’t come very often in your lifetime. So I know you will understand, Kate. I shall

miss seeing you, but come the Spring I will be home. I send you my warm affection.

As always, Roddy. “

When Hal finished reading he looked towards Kate and repeated, “I send you my warm

affection. As

always, Roddy. No: Give my regards to Hal, and of course he wouldn’t think of Mary

Ellen. No, of

course not.” And saying this, he turned to look at her. But she was already rising from the chair, and as

she hurried up the room towards the ladder, his voice came at her, crying, “Don’t be so thin-skinned and

daft. I knew he wouldn’t turn up. And you in your heart knew it. He’s gone. He’s gone

for good.

Kate here knows it. So you make your mind up to it an’ all.”

“I’ll make me mind up to whatever I think fit. And I won’t ask your opinion of it. You never change:

you keep on and on, nigglin’, nigglin’. Oh, you!” And she began to climb the ladder,

lumbering, and

when her legs disappeared through the hatchway he walked quietly to the settle and,

sitting down beside

Kate, he said, “We don’t change, do we?”

“You ask for what you get, lad. You should leave her alone on that quarter.”

“He’s a swine, a selfish swine. I’ve said it afore, and I’ll say it again.” His voice was low but his words

were thick and deep.

“He’s already grown too big for his boots. If we ever see him again I’ll be surprised. And you know it

in your heart, don’t you?” He pushed her arm gently, and she answered quietly, “He’ll be back,

sometime he’ll be back, if not out of affection, out of pride, because he’ll want to show all around how

he’s got on. And he’ll get on.” She now turned and looked fully at Hal.

“He’ll rise. He means to.

And he must be fittin’ in with his new friends or they wouldn’t have put up with him this long. “

“Perhaps it isn’t the male but the female friend that is puttin’ up with him.”

“You think that?”

“Aye, I do, not only think it, but I’m sure of it. That madam that came along here with him that day, she

might have considered herself too young for her husband but not too old for him. Women of that age like

them young, especially if they’re tied to a fading man, and from what you’ve told me he must have been

sixty if he was a day. Oh aye, our Roddy will get on, but he’ll have to pay for it, ‘cos a woman like that

will demand the last ounce of him.”

Kate stared at him through her narrowed bloodshot eyes for some seconds before she

said, “You seem

to have learned a lot about women, Hal.”

“Enough, enough.” He nodded at her before picking up the poker and stirring the fire into a blaze.

“Then why don’t you use different tactics on ...?” She jerked her head towards the

ceiling.

“Why should I? It wouldn’t make any difference.” He stabbed the poker into the heart of the fire now

and stirred it round.

“She’ll come to like me when the devil likes holy water. Oh, there’s no hope in that

quarter.”

“But you’d like hope in that quarter, wouldn’t you, Hal?”

The’—he screwed up his face at her ‘and Mary Ellen? “ He now jerked his head towards

the ceiling.

“You must be daft, Kate. Now, if you had said Maggie Oates, there might be some

chance.”

He laughed, and she joined in with a croak, adding now, “Aw, there’s too much

competition in that

quarter; you’d be just as unlucky there.”

“Well, there’s one place I’m not unlucky and that’s on the farm. Aw, Kate, I wish you

could see it.

Look, I’m going to bring the cart over someday if we have a break in the weather and I’ll take you

across.

You won’t believe how I’ve got that little house now. “

“What for? To live there on your own?”

“Suits me.”

“Don’t be silly, man. If you can’t go one road, go the other. Take a lass, take a wife.

There’s plenty

that will be willin’.”

“Oh aye. They’re fallin’ over their feet to get at me, I’m havin’ to dodge ‘em.”

“Go on, get yourself off home.”

“Yes, that’s where I’m goin’, home.

“Tis the first real home I’ve had, Kate. Do you realize that? Abel’s place wasn’t a home, merely a

shelter. Ah, well, good-night. I’ll pop over the morrow, or soon anyway,” “Wait a

minute. Did you get

your bull?”

“No, I didn’t get me bull.”

“Why not? Weren’t there any there?”

“Aye, there were three, but even a lonely cow wouldn’t have looked at the side they were on. Fit for

the hammer, poor devils, that’s all they were. But I’ll get me bull and one me lasses will trip over to get

at. I usually get what I want in the end. Good-night, Kate.”

“Good-night, Hal.”

Kate screwed her body round and stared into the fire, muttering aloud, “I wonder. I

wonder if you’ll

always get what you want.”

The weather was changeable: there were no heavy falls of snow, only hail, sleet, rain and wind; then

days when the whole world seemed to be covered with glass.

Mary Ellen had prepared for such emergencies. Both sides of the cottage door she had

piled high with

wood and peat, and she had a good stock of pulses in and flour and fat.

The child was not due until early February, but just before Christmas the feeling of

dragging tiredness

turned to a feeling of illness. This seemed to have started after she had experienced that unpleasant

incident.

It had been raining without let up for three days and nights. Every place seemed to be awash with mud.

Kate, who had taken to her bed a week before, unable to go about any longer because of the pain in her

stomach and refusing to let Hal fetch a doctor, said to Mary Ellen on this particular

morning, “I’ve never

seen rain keep up like this for years. What does it look like at the bottom of the garden?”

“I can’t see much down there for water,” Mary Ellen told her.

“Well, if that’s the case, the ditch is stopped up. One year we had it coming into the kitchen here and

my Davey made a drain down there.

It’s never been blocked up for years, but if it’s blocked now it needs clearin’. How far is the flooding

from the front step? “

“Oh, not half-way up the garden.”

“Tis more than enough. Another day of this and, I tell you, we’ll have it inside. When Hal comes, get

him to clear it.”

That won’t be till later on,” said Mary Ellen; ‘he said he was going to Allendale the day.

I’ll go down

and have a look at it me self

Kate made no protest at this, but said, “There’s a long rake in the wood house. Take that and poke ii to

the right of the gate, you know, where the drain is. There’s likely stuff stuck on the grid.”

Mary Ellen had already pulled on an old coat and tied a shawl around her head; now she got into a pair

of working boots that were much too big for her, for they had once belonged to Roddy,

and then went

out.

It was the middle of the afternoon, but she could hardly see through the rain. Having

found the rake she

made her way down to the gate and began thrusting through the swirling water in an

effort to find the

drain. Within a few minutes the iron head of the rake struck the metal of the grid, but scrape as she might

she couldn’t dislodge it. And so, with an impatient movement, she pulled up her sleeve and, bending

awkwardly to the side, she thrust her hand down into the icy water, groped for the grid, then with a tug

she cleared the obstruction, almost falling on her back as she did so.

Whilst standing looking down to where the flood water was now being sucked in a spiral down the

drain, she was aware of figures approaching over the rise that connected with the road to Haydon

Bridge. It wasn’t anything unusual for people to take this short cut when making for the mill cottages, but

because of the rain she hadn’t been able to distinguish who they were. But now, as they came upon her,

she saw that there were four men, two of whom she recognized, for they had been

temporary visitors to

Kate when she herself had first come to live here. And it was one of these, a thin faced, smallish man,

who greeted her loudly, saying, “Why! hello there, Mary Ellen.”