A Dinner Of Herbs (52 page)

then we’re riding over to get at the facts. But there’s one thing 1 hope’he moved his head slowly up and

down ‘and that is, that he’s done a bunk, because otherwise there’ll be bloodshed. I know that. “

As he went to leave her side, Mary Ellen grabbed at his hand saying, “Tisn’t worth it. Let him go.”

“But he may have had an accident.” Florrie’s quiet voice had a reprimand in it. And the three of them

looked at her as if in pity, and it was Hal who answered her simply with, “Aw, lass,”

before going from

them, and those two words conveyed how far-fetched and even silly he thought her

statement had been.

It was almost an hour and a half later when Hal and the 360

two young men entered the mud yard of the Bakers’ small farm. There was no one to be

seen. But

when Hal thumped on the low back door it was opened by a woman in her fifties. Her

face was red and

her lids were blinking. She did not address Hal, but turned her head, saying to someone in the room,

“They’ve come.” The next minute a man with stooped shoulders and grizzled hair stood

by her side, and

he looked defiantly up at Hal, saying, “We expected you. Aye, aye, we expected you.

And ‘tis no good

puttin’ the blame on us. Tisn’t our fault.”

Hal stared from one to the other of them, then said slowly, “Where is he?”

“How do I know?” The man’s head bobbed.

“Left on the doorstep last night as drunk as a noodle. But at six this mornin’ he was off bag and

baggage.”

“Where’s he gone?” This was a demand from Hugh, and the man replied in a similar

tone, “How do I

know? I only know he’s left me in a bloody mess. How am I gona manage here on me

own with me

back the way it is, and the missis here not worth two pen north of copper.” He nudged his wife with his

elbow.

“Anyway, you’ve got yourself to blame’—he nodded at Hal ‘you gave him a few bob

yesterday. He

could never rest when he had a penny in his hand.”

“A few bob? A penny?” Hal’s voice was grim.

“I gave him a hundred pounds.”

He watched both the man and woman now turn and stare at each other in amazement, and

it was the

woman who muttered, “What did you say? A hundred pounds?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Huh!” The man laughed now but mirthlessly.

“And you expected him to stay put, with a hundred pounds in his pocket? God Almighty!

He’s always

wanted to see the world an’ now you’ve made it possible for him.”

“We’ll find him. Sometime or other, we’ll find him.”

“I doubt it. But good luck to you, an’ if I had him here meselfthis minute God knows

what I’d do to

him, leavin’ me in a hole like this.”

Hal stared at the man and woman. These were the people whom Kate would have had to

live with. He

had only met them three times before and he had judged them to be a pleasant couple: not very intelligent

but homely and pleasant; and he could see Kate getting on with them and altering the

little farmhouse,

because she had a way with furniture and such like. She was like her mother. But now he wondered if

his judgement of human nature was slipping, for why hadn’t he gauged the type of man

he’d been dealing

with. For a moment he was thanking God what had happened had happened; then he was

thinking of

Kate and the effect this business was going to have on her for the rest of her life. Things like this had the

power to turn a woman’s mind, even a big sensible one, as Kate was.

Without further words he turned abruptly away and made for his horse, and after a second his sons

followed him.

They had gone some distance along the road before Hugh said, “What now, Dad?”

“What d’you mean, what now?”

“Well, do you think it’s any use going into Hexham or some place?”

“No, I don’t. He’ll be further afield than Hexham by now. What’s done’s done.”

“And a good thing to my mind.” John jerked the reins, causing his horse to alter its stride and to

side-step for a moment, and when it was walking straight again he looked at his father and brother and

added, “Kate would have withered in that hole, living with that pair. apart from Baker, who I couldn’t

stand right from the beginning

But you were so bent on it; it looked as if you couldn’t get rid of her quick enough. “

Again he jerked

the reins, and now the horse went into a gallop.

Hal looked at Hugh. He was dumbfounded. If that speech had come from this one at his

side he could

have understood it; but John, like Tom, was a mild-mannered man. They had very little to say at any

time, happy go lucky the pair of them, with, he had imagined, no strong emotions and

therefore no strong

vices. He muttered aloud, “Wanted to get rid of her? Well, I’ll be damned! I’ll let him know

something.” And he went to jerk his horse forward when Hugh said, “Hold your hand a

minute, Dad,

‘cos ... well, he’s only saying what we all thought. I mean, the lads anyway.”

“Sayin’ what you all thought?” Hal’s mouth tightened for a moment.

“Then all I can say is I’ve got four bloody fools for sons, and four males that will never know what goes

on in a woman. Kate, let me tell you, was’he gulped in his throat ‘was starved inside, she was ready for

marriage, for hairns.

“Twasn’t so much the man, but hairns.

Women are like that. And apparently I’ve bred four bloody numskulls who look at the

busts and burns

and ignore the head. And I suppose you all knowing I wasn’t her real father imagined that as another

reason for me wantin’ to get rid of her. Eh? “

When Hugh didn’t answer but stared straight ahead, Hal jerked his chin upwards,

exclaiming loudly,

“My God! Where’ve I been all these years, asleep, not to know what was goin’ on in the minds around

me? Look’ he twisted in the saddle ‘let me tell you this: I love, and have loved that girl from I brought

her into the world, and like her own father would never have done. He saw her when she was just a few

months old and here she is on twenty-four, and nobody’s seen hilt nor hair of him since.

Skited off to

France was the last thing I heard of him. But never a word to the mother of his child, nor to that child.

Any man worth his salt would have put in an appearance just to see how she had grown.

Anyway, he

could be dead now, and I hope he is. But for you lot to think that I wanted rid of Kate .

well, I’ll tell

you something, lad, and you can pass it on around the others, I think more of Kate than I do of any of

you. Now there it is, and that’s the truth. “

“Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome, lad, you’re welcome.” And with this Hal too spurred his horse on. But Hugh did not

join him;

he stared after his father, shaking his head. He wouldn’t tell the others what his father had said; it would

hurt them, because he knew it was true. Like them, he too had thought that the extra

attention his father

gave to Kate was to make her feel one of them all. But no, apparently it was the other way about: he

had acted as he did out of love for her. He had always known his father was a man of

very strong

emotions. He had felt he took after him in a way;

but now it could only be in a way, for he could never see himself loving a woman as his father did his

mother, nor yet, as he had just confessed, the stepdaughter begot by a man who had been his one time

friend, and whom he now wished dead.

He quickened the trot but did not ride to catch up with his father.

The episode was apparently closed. Life would go on as usual, except, he supposed, that Kate would

become a sort of recluse and would hide herself from everyone except the family.

But Hugh was wrong with regard to Kate hiding herself, and she surprised, astonished,

and even

shocked her family when, on the following Saturday morning, she got ready to

accompany the cart into

Hexham.

It wasn’t an accepted rule that any particular one or other of them should go into Hexham or Haltwhistle

or Allendale on Saturdays.

Sometimes Mary Ellen went, taking Florrie with her, or Maggie; some times Maggie and

Annie went; the

only rule that existed was that they never all went for one of them would have to stay behind to see to the

meal.

There were no servants at Moor Vale Farm. Mary Ellen and her three daughters and

Annie ran the

inside of the house and the dairies, Hal and three of his sons ran the farm, with help from Terry. Both

inside and out one person was always left in charge. And it was automatically assumed

that Kate would

be that person on this particular Saturday morning.

But no, Kate was down in the kitchen at six o’clock as was usual. It was her week for

seeing to the

breakfast, the frying of long thick slices of bacon together with eggs and white pudding, and they all,

including Terry, sat around the kitchen table and ate at seven o’clock in the morning.

John, Tom, and

Gabriel, as well as Hal, had been up since five. Hugh had returned to his studies in

Newcastle yesterday,

so there had been one less this morning for breakfast.

When the dishes were washed and the kitchen tidied and Maggie and Florrie had

scrambled upstairs to

get ready for the market, Kate said quietly, “I’ll go and get changed then.” And at this, Mary Ellen and

Annie looked at each other and at Kate as she disappeared into the hall, and Mary Ellen muttered,

“Surely she’s not thinkin’ of goin’ in the day?”

“It looks like it, and perhaps ‘tis for the best,” said Annie.

“They’ll cut her to pieces with their tongues.”

“Aye, likely,” Annie nodded.

“But she’s not your daughter for nothin’, she’ll put up with that and go back for more.”

Mary Ellen made no reply, the words had taken her thoughts back to when she married

Hal and went

into the market for the first time.

Tongues had certainly tried to cut her up: hadn’t she been living with the man for months afore they got

married; he was never off her doorstep. And she hadn’t had a midwife but had let him

deliver her child.

Now what would you think of a lass like that, and her not twenty?

“She knows what she’s doing.”

Mary Ellen turned to Annie, saying, “What?”

“I said, she knows what she’s doing, and ‘tis the right thing. Why should they put shame on the woman

who’s been left behind when it’s no fault of her own? Yet they do, and expect you to go and hide in the

attic for the rest of your life. If I was in her place I’d do exactly as she’s goin’ to do.”

Mary Ellen nodded. Yes, that’s exactly what Annie would have done.

What a pity a woman like Annie had never married. And what a greater, greater pity that her own

daughter, her own dear Kate would never now marry, for no matter how brave a face one

put on a

situation like this, it changed you. And she knew it had already changed Kate, for in the six days since

she had been humiliated she had refused to discuss the matter in any way; in fact, she had acted as if

nothing had happened. It wasn’t normal. She herself had risen earlier than usual this

morning and had

prepared a breakfast tray to take up to her, but she had been astounded when Kate had

walked into the

kitchen, saying, “You’re up early, Mam.”

She had found it impossible to give her daughter any answer, but had watched her look

down on the

tray, then slowly take the things off and put them back into her place on the table. When Kate returned

to the kitchen dressed for the town, Maggie and Florrie were already there, their bonnets and capes on.

Mary Ellen was out in the yard supervising the last of the loading. It was Tom’s turn to stay on the farm.

John was already mounted. Terry was driving one cart and Gabriel the other, and Hal

stood at the head

of the brake adjusting the harness of the horse. Then turning, he looked towards the

kitchen door,

shouting, “You ready?”

The girls, in a flurry now, made for the door, but Kate did not immediately follow them.

Looking at

Annie, she said, “You don’t mind managing alone, Annie?”

“No, lass, no.” Annie came to her and put her arm around her shoulders and pressed her tightly for a

moment, saying, “You know I don’t, and ‘tis the right thing you’re doin’. Go on in there, look them

straight in the eye an’ smile. That’ll baffle a lot of the bitches.” And with this, she leant forward quickly

and placed a shy kiss on Kate’s cheek, and Kate, turning to her, kissed her back.

Annie was almost as dear to her as was her mother, for she had nursed her and carried her about as a

child; she had played with her and romped with her on the quiet, and had her to stay

when she had for a

time lived in Kate Makepeace’s old cottage. She loved Annie. Perhaps it was because in a way they

were alike, at least in build, and almost in features too, although she would have changed her own face

any day for Annie’s, even as it was now in age.

She went quickly out, and when she reached the brake Hal extended his hand towards her to help her

up, but he could not resist muttering, “You all right?”

“Yes, yes, I’m all right.” She smiled at him, but it was a strange smile, a smile that made him uneasy.

They had no stall in the market. Hal had given it up on the last farm when he had started to sell his