Northern Spirit (2 page)

Tom hoped one day he would be able to go to agricultural college and
get diplomas of his own. Maybe go to young farmers’ meetings like David did and
dance with pretty girls.

When he was satisfied with his tour of David’s bedroom, Tom edged down
the stairs carrying the bundle of clothes. He stole into the kitchen and,
juggling with the clothes in one hand, stuffed a piece of cake in his mouth,
and then gathered some things from the leftovers of the buffet for David. He
chose a few sandwiches, a sausage roll and a piece of chocolate cake, then
wrapped them in a serviette and, unceremoniously, shoved them into the pile of
work clothes.

Tom dawdled across to the dairy and the familiar humming sound of the
milking machine engine that he’d listened for half-an-hour ago was now in full
flow.

David was standing inside, shivering, with a large towel across his
shoulders. He grabbed the warm pullover from the boy’s arms and, as he pulled
it over his head, ruffled up his tattered hair.

Tom stood and watched, looking closely at David’s adult body, hoping he
would grow to be as strong; he’d already noticed a few premature changes to his
own and was apprehensive.

David wasn’t particularly a tall man, but what he lacked in height he
gained in stature. He had a good posture and usually walked proudly and, for a
man, gracefully, carrying his head tall and his back straight. His chest was
still bronzed from spending long days in the fields that summer, hauling hay and
straw bales to help his sick father. His young body reflected well his
strength.

Tom was glad his brother was strong because he had feared his father;
he’d made Keld Head a dangerous place to live. David had protected Tom several
times from a beating, as George grew impatient with the young lad. David had
taken some of the endless criticism from him and, more than once, a good
hiding. They hadn’t told their mother, guessing she too was under strain from
looking after a sick and unreasonable man. Yet, despite all his misgivings,
David loved his father.

Tom couldn’t understand why his father treated them as he had; he knew
he could be awkward at times, but David, as far as he was concerned was
faultless. So consequently, Tom hated his father and loved David all the more
for his courage.

‘Can I help you with the milkin’ tonight, Davey?’

‘I tell you what. How about getting the next lot of cattle out of the
yard for me, eh? And then go and get me a coffee to go with these dry
sandwiches.’

This time Tom quickly responded, and his willingness and kindness
brought a warm smile to David’s hardened face. A glaze of moisture covered his
deep blue eyes and softened his countenance.

*       
*        *

Kathy Keldas was listening to her parents and her aunt discussing the
latest story-line in Coronation Street and knew it was time to leave, glad at
last she was no longer the focus of their conversation. She went into the
kitchen with the pretence of making a fresh pot of tea, but in reality wanted
to use the vantage point of the kitchen window to check that David and Tom were
working.

Looking out into the darkness, she was pleased to see the lights of the
dairy shining across the yard. She knew that David was upset today and more so
than the other children. He hadn’t spoken much the whole of the day and she was
disappointed he hadn’t mingled with the other mourners. In some ways she could
understand his feelings, but hoped he may have shown the common decency of
circulating more than he had. Although David was a quiet man, he was well liked
and usually polite.

Kathy stood reflecting, holding her hand to her chin. She was still
dressed in her mourning suit: a black crepe outfit with a flash of red on the
collar; a silent and defiant gesture. It also had a fetching scooped neckline,
which flattered her slim body, which was purposely chosen for the members of
the press. It also highlighted her blonde hair, which was pinned on top of her
head. Kathy was only forty-two and just like David had begun to look and feel
much older.

Knowing that David was working hard reassured her. He had supported her
and helped her again in a time of crisis. She felt a pang of anxiety hit her as
she thought how brave he was, and hoped he wouldn’t be harmed by the last few
hard years of his young life. A time when most would be looking for selfish
pleasures, David was bound day and night to the farm. He had done this without
complaint and with complete acceptance. But Kathy realised David was mortal;
she had felt the strain and she guessed he had too.

She had found herself surrounded by tragedy and had wondered sometimes
if it was real, or if her body had just switched from reality to fantasy; like
she was playing the role in a drama that would soon end and the curtain pulled
back so she could go back to the world of normality again. She would have to
try and talk to David though, but not yet; not just after the funeral. She must
know his feelings and reassure him. What would his ideas about the future be?
Kathy even wrestled with the thought that one day he may want to leave. He was
a mature lad and popular and she couldn’t expect him to stay single forever.

David had already met several girlfriends and Kathy knew some he was
fond of, but he rarely brought any of them to Keld Head. He would be afraid of
them meeting his father, of being taunted in front of them and, worse still,
George embarrassing them with drunken slurs and innuendoes. But as soon as any
young woman heard of George Keldas’s reputation, it was usually the last David
saw of them.

Kathy was naive and hoped that things would be different now and David
could begin to lead a more normal life, but there was something inside her that
wanted to hold on to him.

Yes, she would have to talk to David, but not today.

*       
*        *

The following morning a fresh westerly wind was rattling a loose pane
of glass in Kathy’s bedroom window. She huddled up closer to a large pillow
placed lengthways in her bed where her husband once lay; someone had told her
it would keep her warm, and it did.

She’d heard from across the hallway David’s alarm clock and hoped he’d
heard it too. She sat up a little, not daring to sleep, but the loud click of
the bathroom light switching on answered her.

Kathy wanted her life to take on some stability and hoping the weather
would stay dry, she decided to do some washing, after that, maybe clean the
house; it would be good therapy to have something menial to do, as if every
little task would heal her. Then once her visitors were fed, she would turn her
attention to her younger children, which she knew had been neglected of late.

Kathy also knew there was gossip in the village about her husband,
which may have penetrated the schoolyard. She wanted to put a stop to it for
the sake of her youngest children and the family name. A decision to call at
the school and have a discreet word with Dorothy Hargreaves, the head teacher,
would be her first mistake that day.

Kathy knew her youngest daughter Sarah was, for a child, quite
thick-skinned. She appeared to cope better than Tom. She was only seven years
old, was a slightly built girl and much like her mother, had golden blonde
hair, and despite tragedy in her family had remained a happy girl, perhaps too
young to realise the enormity of their problems. She had witnessed the anger of
her father but had rarely been the brunt of it.

George Keldas had idolised Sarah. She was his little angel. He would
cuddle her and protect her, always siding with her if there was an argument
between the two younger children, even if she was teasing David and being a
nuisance she was never to be in the wrong. George would buy her gifts and
purposely leave the boys with nothing. It was only she and her elder sister
Linzi who ever received any sort of love from George Keldas. Yes, for Sarah
life had been wonderful, but Kathy now feared her world would change as she
grew to miss her doting father.

For Tom, she feared differently. She didn’t think he missed George at
all.

Tom was much like David in that he was sensitive, although more
talkative than David ever was. He too had the fair hair of his mother but he
was a well-built boy, reared since birth from the breast to the milk of the
land. He was a healthy and fine boy and he had his father’s handsome face, and
Kathy could see as his young personality began to develop, he would become a
tall and attractive young man. But Tom was also perceptive. One evening, when
he’d come home from school he’d asked: ‘Mum, what does the word adultery mean?’
Kathy shrugged it off and said, ‘Why?’

‘Oh, just that the kids at school were on about it. And I’ve heard Dad
say it. It’s a bad word isn’t it?’ Kathy knew what he was referring to. She’d
had a row with George in front of the children and in a drunken rage he’d
accused her of adultery, again. David had tried to defend her but George
started on him. ‘What do you know about life, Davey? You don’t know what it
means to love a woman. Just because you’ve been to college and got your head
full of nonsense, you think you know it all, besides, keep your nose out of my
business lad.’ The anger was clear in David’s eyes, and Kathy suspected if
George hadn’t have looked so ill, David may have retaliated.

George’s cutting words had sliced through her. And although him being
drunk at the time gave some excuse, it was the things that he said when he was
sober that hurt her more.

*       
*        *

Kathy walked boldly through the village thinking all eyes were upon her
where, in fact, most didn’t even know her and, of those who did, they only had
respect for her. She was desperate to keep a sense of dignity and preserve the
family name. They had to remain in Keld Head. There was no running away.

‘Come in Mrs Keldas.’ The head teacher gestured for Kathy to sit down.
‘I didn’t expect to see you here so soon.’

But Kathy remained standing as she nervously interrupted her: ‘We must
get back to normal as soon as possible, Mrs Hargreaves. I don’t want my
children to be affected any more than they need to be over our situation.’

Dorothy Hargreaves was temporarily stunned by the younger woman’s
courage and insisted that she sat down and, this time, Kathy complied.

‘I want to talk to you about my children’s future. You see I don’t want
them to be treated any differently.’ Kathy sat proud and upright in the chair,
but she was shivering with nerves. ‘I want you to treat them just the same as
you did before. David and I intend to carry on and run the farm together. We
won’t be leaving Keld Head. I know there have been rumours.’

‘I haven’t heard that you were thinking of leaving.’

‘No, but maybe you’ve heard other things. And I just wanted you to stop
any gossip that may be going around the school about my family.’

The head teacher’s heart was changed from sympathy to defence, as she
felt her integrity and the good name of her school challenged.

Kathy continued with her objections, before Mrs Hargreaves could again
defend herself. ‘Of course you must realise . . . I’m not in a position to stop
gossip that may infiltrate this school from the village, painful though it may
be. But I will have a quiet word with my teachers and the other members of
staff about your children. And we’ll do our best to see they get all the help
they need.’

Kathy was humbled by the older woman’s common sense and thanked her.
Her voice then softened. ‘I come from a respectable and hard-working
background. My husband’s family has farmed in this area for generations, and
it’s sickening to think how disloyal some of my neighbours are.’ Kathy was
trying hard not to feel aggrieved again. ‘Oh, yes, the village folk are nice
enough to my face, but I know they’re talking behind my back. And true, George
did cause some serious problems for us, but that won’t stop us from being a
normal, happy family.’

Dorothy Hargreaves raised her eyebrows; she took off her glasses and
threw them on her desk. In her mind she was thinking that it was Kathy Keldas
that was making all the fuss about her situation and not the village folk, or
her members of staff; they only pitied her.

She thought it peculiar that when people in desperation attempt to
cover over some wrong, they actually bring it more to the foreground, and this
was exactly what Kathy had done. This was a well-respected young woman. Yes,
she had suffered for years, and now it appeared that her problems would
subside, she wished that Kathy would just let things be.

Then Kathy noticed the older woman peer across and look at her
pullover. She glanced down and saw a small coffee stain on the cream coloured
fabric. Her face flushed; she should have taken more care. What would this
woman think? Then a deeper thought crept inside her, like the headmistress had
noticed a stain on her soul. Like she’d seen one sin lead into another: lies,
deception, and violence, as interwoven threads in a coarse fabric. Yes, she was
reaping what she’d sowed, as this woman probed further and deeper into her
heart. Kathy felt she must have seen all her sins, and a great shame fell over
her, like her secrets, (because she had several), had been exposed.

Kathy waited for her to say something and outwardly condemn her, but
the teacher didn’t need to because, by the expression on Kathy’s face, she’d
condemned herself.

2

WITH SILVER

‘What made him do it then, Davey?’ the postman said as he leant out of
the window of his red van.

David narrowed is eyes as he looked at the man and wanted to swear, but
before he could, both men turned their heads to the sound of some laughter
coming from the farmhouse.

‘It’s okay to go in for morning coffee, then, is it?’

‘Looks like it.’ David’s voice was raw.

‘You’ll miss him, son.’