Northern Spirit (3 page)

‘Yeh. … Like a hole in the head!’

And David jumped on the tractor and drove slowly through the paddock.
He could just see across to the garden, his shirts and the children’s clothes
pegged on the washing line and blowing in the breeze. It was as if nothing had
ever happened. He wondered how his mother could carry on like this when he
still felt confused. He wanted to talk to her but she seemed to be distant and
unconcerned. David felt she was trying to minimise things and make things
appear normal, when he knew they weren’t. Maybe she was ill herself or in some
kind of shock. He was certain she and his father were never completely happy
together, so how could he expect her to miss him now? Did she miss him at all?
Perhaps that was the problem. Was she behaving like some kind of “merry widow”
or a divorced woman, liberated from years of an unhappy relationship? Yet David
was certain his father did love his mother and it was only those crazy ideas in
his head that made him unreasonable and jealous, that the accusations his father
made were born out of desperation, to rationalise the cold feelings Kathy had
towards him, and blaming everyone other than himself for the breakdown of their
marriage. David hadn’t just thought of this, he was too lazy in mind to have
deduced this for himself. They were ideas of his sister and friends that had
been collected over several years of trying to explain the unhappy situation at
Keld Head. And despite her age, David knew his mother was still a beautiful
woman and his father should have been as proud of her as he was. And no matter
what his father said, David was certain she was completely loyal to them all.

He’d also noticed the same beauty developing in his sister, Linzi, as
she turned eighteen. But Linzi, like David, had the dark hair and tanned skin
of their father.

David found himself comparing his own features as he stared into the
rearview mirror of the tractor cab, yet could see no beauty in himself. He’d
heard people say how much he was like his father, but his mother always
objected and David guessed she knew how much this upset him. She would defend
him and say he was milder and that there was no similarity at all. Others
thought David probably wasn’t as handsome as his father.

As he sat and stared, looking at the colour of his eyes and the shape
of his mouth and every curve of a premature wrinkle, he became mesmerized at
his own reflection. He felt his heartbeat quicken and a flush of blood ran to
his head. Wanting to avoid the sensation, he roused himself and forcefully
pushed the mirror to one side.

Then droplets of rain fell heavily and suddenly on the windscreen and
cocooned him in a bubble-like prison. It had been a wet autumn and the rain had
hardly stopped since September. The rivers were swollen and the ghyll was
flooded, constantly spluttering water, mud and gravel onto the farm track.
David pushed the tractor clumsily into gear and drove back towards Keld Head,
with the wheels splashing water from the puddles across the yard. His mood had
taken control of him, and much like his father, David wanted to run away, but
he didn’t know where to, or who from. It would be foolish to walk the fells
today as the rain would persist and get the better of him. Yet he had an
overwhelming urge to leave, as he had become afraid of his own image, and David
thought he would never look in a mirror again. And as much as he’d despised his
father’s actions, his feelings where vindicating the thoughts he had, that he
was becoming much like him.

He parked untidily in the gate way, jumped down from the tractor cab
and was about to put on his waterproof jacket, when he noticed one of the dairy
cows standing alone in the corner of the fold yard, swishing her tail from side
to side, fidgeting, paddling her feet and in some discomfort.

He crept in beside her and rubbed his hand gently down her spine, and
easing himself behind her, saw what he suspected. A long stream of pink slime,
was falling from her rear-end and staining the animals black and white coat.
The cow was about to give birth.

‘It’s okay, Silver.’ David spoke softly and, recognizing his calm
voice, Silver turned to him and nuzzled his jacket.

David had worried about this animal for months, as they’d struggled to
get her in calf, and no calf meant no milk. He’d argued with his father to be
patient and give her one last chance; George had said she should be sold for
slaughter. But David’s patience was about to bear fruit and Silver was going to
give the results. And as he gently rubbed her thick coat, David recalled what
his late Uncle Fred always said: “kindness - kindness – kindness.” And the
memory of him and his compassion softened David’s mood and, through his own
kindness and persistence, Silver was about to repay him and save him from a
reckless action, providing him with a thread of hope.

He separated her from the other cattle and put her into a loosebox,
then scattered around some fresh straw bedding, gave her a wad of hay and a
bucket of clean, cold water. He looked at the animal and smiled for a few
moments as he leant back on the wall. Sighing, he rubbed the skin taut on his
face with his hands, as he knew she had prevented him from running and the
danger had passed.

As the day drew on Silver continued in labour, but couldn’t produce a
result. David checked her as often as he could and tried to give her the
privacy she deserved, hoping he wouldn’t have to send for the vet. And today he
found it difficult to decide whether he was being overly cautious or careless
in his choice. It wasn’t the first time he had to make this decision, as his
father would often disappear at inappropriate times and then return, only to
accuse him of interfering.

So David decided to give Silver a deadline: If she hadn’t calved by
tea-time he would have to call the vet. But tea-time came and went and there
was still no calf.

When Tom came home from school he helped with the watch, constantly
wandering from the loosebox to the dairy to tell David of any progress. But
Silver was beginning to look tired. And David could see as she lay on the dry
straw bed, that one of the calf’s front legs was the only visible sign of
birth. He took a bucket of warm soapy water, lathered his hands and arms and
started to examine her. He could feel inside the cow’s warm body, the neck and
head of the calf. But the calf’s other front leg was, unusually, bent backwards
and David hadn’t the confidence to rectify the matter himself. If his father
was here, he knew he could have easily solved the problem, but there was no
more he could do, and to save Silver anymore discomfort, reluctantly, went to call
the vet. He couldn’t risk losing either of them.

*       
*        *

When the vet’s Mercedes pulled into the yard, David was waiting in the
kitchen and he felt uneasy. He should have been pleased that Barry Fitzgerald
had come quickly, but David was unsure of how to greet him, because he was
sickened and ashamed of some of the things his father had done, and he hadn’t
spoken to Barry Fitzgerald since. David had also ignored Barry at the funeral
as he’d done the rest of the mourners.

David had once read in the paper about a young man whose father had
killed two children, and how the fear of turning out the same, had haunted him;
David had felt pity for the young man and thought he too was branded for life
and tattooed with an unrepeatable word; a description of his father that people
had struggled to say, because they couldn’t think of a word evil enough, as no
word yet existed.

But David should have trusted Barry Fitzgerald. He was a warm, kind man
and well respected and, at the age of forty-nine had matured into a competent
vet. He was also a local man, born from a long line of men in the medical
profession. His father was a doctor, but Barry preferred to look after sick
animals and lead an outdoor life. He was one of the few men that George Keldas
had tolerated, and David guessed Barry would be as concerned with his family’s
welfare today, as much as the cattle.

David could discern through the lamplight Barry’s dark and greying
head; his familiar face radiated feeling and his eyebrows frowned against the
sharpness of the electric light in the yard. As David watched from his vantage
point at the kitchen window he felt reluctant to move. If not for the sake of
Silver, he would have made some excuse and sent his mother.

The passenger door opened on the estate car and David saw a young woman
clamber out. He was now even more reluctant to leave and hesitated. He
continued to watch them unpack the car and dress in some green overalls, when
Tom came from the loosebox to meet them. David knew he was being irrational in
allowing the moods of his father to enter into him again, and could no longer
resist. Inwardly moaning, he pulled on his boots and left the house.

Barry Fitzgerald came forward to meet him and shook his hand and, in a
sympathetic gesture, warmly pressed his other hand on top of David’s.

Feeling reassured by this kindness David found the confidence to turn
to the girl, but Barry spoke up first. ‘Davey, this is Hannah Robson. She’s
from County Durham.’ Barry put his arm across David’s shoulder. ‘She’s training
with us for six months; I hope you didn’t mind me bringing her?’

David was stunned as he looked into the eyes of the young woman, and
was instantly attracted to her and couldn’t speak.

She held out her hand to his but driven by a desire to keep his promise,
David ignored her gesture and pulled his hand back. He muttered a brief “hello”
and headed for the loosebox. As he walked away, he knew he’d been bad mannered
and justified his actions by wondering what possible use she could be. He
thought she was far too small to be a vet; boyish in appearance, yet she had
striking brown eyes and short strands of auburn hair that curled around the
nape of her neck. David’s actions wouldn’t have hurt him so much if Hannah
weren’t so beautiful.

They followed David to the loosebox and Barry saw straight away what
the problem was. Silver was standing in a corner grunting and pushing; she was
becoming drowsy and swaying from side to side. The black nose and one hoof of
the calf were protruding from the cow’s rear end.

‘Should have called me sooner, Davey. Looks like we’ve got a leg back.
It’ll take a bit of manoeuvring to get this one out.’

David held his head low, disappointed and embarrassed with his
judgment, which did nothing to change the mood he was sinking deeper into. He
was pleased when Barry sent Hannah back to the car for some ropes.

As Barry started to examine the cow, David struggled to hold on to her
halter and she fell crashing to the floor and started to thrash about.

Barry then lay on the floor and pushed his arm deep inside the cow’s
body and tried to untangle the legs of the calf, but had to fight with the
forces of nature; the more he pushed the calf back to reach the other leg, the
more Silver tried to push the calf out. ‘Dang it, Hannah. Where are you? Come
on, hurry up. Where’s the rope?’

As Hannah rushed back, her face and neck were flushed with
embarrassment and, with trembling hands she tried to tie one of the soft
calving ropes to the calf’s leg.

David felt sympathy towards the girl and was sorry his mistake had
caused her to be reproved. He bent low and reached out with his hand to help,
but Barry shouted, ‘Watch what you’re doing, Davey. Keep hold of the cow’s
head!’

Barry grimaced and writhed on the floor, his whole arm now lost inside
the cow’s body. ‘Ahhh . . . gotcha!’ and he gently eased out the calf’s other
leg and snatched the other rope from Hannah and tied it to the calf. ‘Right . .
. come on, Hannah, you can pull.’ But with one big push from Silver, the calf
easily slipped out with a flood of mucus and water.

Silver immediately staggered to her feet and swung around to wash her
newborn calf, nudging it with soft grunting noises, as the calf thrust its head
about looking for the teat of its mother.

To see his mistake corrected David felt humbled, and bent over the calf
to examine it and said, ‘It’s a heifer.’ He then muttered a half-hearted
invitation to Barry, ‘Do you want to come in for a drink?’ And he gestured to
Tom who was peering over the loosebox door. ‘Go and ask Mum to put the kettle
on, Tom, to make Barry and . . . and . . . this young lady a cup of tea.’

And unseen by anyone, Hannah Robson bit her lip for the third time that
evening.

‘That’s okay, Davey,’ Barry interrupted. ‘We won’t stay. We’ve another
call to make in Langdale and we don’t want to be late home. Please give my
regards to your mother, though.’

David brought a bucket of warm soapy water and a towel from the dairy
to wash their hands and arms in and as the two vets started to remove their
overalls, David watched Hannah as she struggled to pull her damp overalls off
from over the top of her jeans. As he caught her eye, she showed great contempt
for his indiscretion, and the indifference in her eyes humiliated him and he
quickly looked away. To hide his embarrassment, David started to wash the
calving equipment and then threw down some fresh straw to bed the cow and calf
down for the evening. He purposely turned away as Barry left.

Realising David’s remorse, Barry returned momentarily and put his arm
on his shoulder. ‘Don’t fret, Davey. We’ve had a good result tonight and none
of them will be any the worse for it. Ring me if you’re ever worried, wont you.
I know it’s going to be hard for you all. I just . . .’ but David interrupted,
and pulled away before Barry could say anything else that would embarrass him
further in front of this girl. ‘We’ll all be fine,’ his voice was
uncharacteristically cold. ‘Don’t worry about us.’

David watched the headlights of the Mercedes disappear out of sight,
and the only brightness outside came from the kitchen windows as a shaft of
light fell on the cold and damp farmyard floor. He left the lights on in the
loosebox and walked outside into the evening’s air. He noticed that the yard
gate was left undone and felt compelled to close it.