Northern Spirit (32 page)

Through all of this Tony didn’t seem to notice David’s lack of anxiety.
He never once questioned him as to how long he would stay, until one day when
the two men were alone. Twist hadn’t been seen for two days and Banjo was sober
enough to do some busking. David had been shopping in the morning and had left
Tony sleeping and had decided today he would take him out for a walk and buy
him a good hot meal.

They didn’t walk far before Tony had to stop as dizziness and weakness
overcame him. They didn’t intend going far; despite the day being dry, it was
cold. Neither could they go anywhere respectable to eat because of their
appearance as both were unshaven and only David was relatively clean.

They sat opposite one another in a diner looking out through greasy,
steamy, windows into the street, when Tony took David by surprise.

‘Why did you come, Dave?’

David didn’t look at him, but continued to stare out of the window. He
didn’t know where to start, and then wiping some of the condensation away with
his hand, said, ‘Because the man who I thought was my father, is dead!’

Tony scowled and was unsure of how to reply.

But David repeated, ‘George Keldas is dead . . . and I’ve discovered
that he isn’t my father.’

‘Oh boy . . . I don’t know what to say.’

‘I know, it’s incredible isn’t it. But don’t be sorry for me,’ David
smiled. ‘You see I’m free now, but God knows who my father is. Mum reckons she
doesn’t know, but she’s no slut. She must know. But all that matters for now
is, I’m not George Keldas’s son and I’ll not end up as mindless as him and I’m
free.’

‘What happened? How did he die? How did you find out he wasn’t your
dad?’

‘The police said he’d escaped on the way to hospital and had stolen a
car. They bungled things up and George got to Keld Head first. He came back to
the farm intending to shoot me, but a police marksman shot him in the nick of
time.’ His words had an impact on both men and David stopped and cleared his throat.
‘Joanne was with me. I probably saved her life, but I’ve something to ask, that
you might find unbelievable.’ David spoke clearly and deliberately now. ‘I’ve
never believed anything in my life what he said could be true and yet, I
wonder, after all these years, if some of it was. . . . ’ and he fiddled with
the cutlery on the table. ‘Did you ever see him with Joanne?’

‘I don’t understand. . . . What are you implying?’

‘I mean, could they have had some kind of affair?’

Tony wondered at David’s sanity. This strange calmness he had; leaving
home for weeks on end with no word about his mother, his family, or the farm or
anything. And now he wonders if the man, who he says is not his father, has had
an affair with Joanne. ‘Dave . . . you are seriously losing it mate!’

‘No . . . for the first time in months - no years, I feel as sane as
the next man. Believe me, Tony, this is true. Ring home, call my mother,
anything, but please, this is important. I was going to marry Jo, you know
that. I hurt her so much. She could have died because of me, and she nearly
killed you! Then she came home a few weeks ago and she looked beautiful. She
was well and happy and, although I knew I was still being a fool if I married
her, if anyone could understand me and live with me, I guessed she could. I
knew I could love her in some kind of way. I was going to ask her to marry me
that very night. I thought what a lovely bride she’d make, and that she would
love me and make me happy again, and at least I could put something right. . .
. Then . . . Dad arrived and he caught us together. He was jealous, I could see
that. It shocked him. Then he told me I was a bastard and if that wasn’t
enough, he implied he’d had some kind of a relationship with Jo. And the next
thing he was lying dead on the floor. And Jo, well she ran away. Poor girl, she
must have been terrified. I know I was. I tried to talk to her, but she
wouldn’t let me into the house. She said she hated me, yes, hated me . . . can
you believe that? So now I have to find some answers. My mother admitted I
wasn’t George’s son and now I need you to tell me about Jo. . . . If there’s
anything you know about her and him? Don’t keep anything back from me.’

They were interrupted as the waitress brought in their meal, but Tony just
looked at his plate and said. ‘I’m not hungry,’ and shoved it away. David
gently pushed it back and beckoned him to eat.

‘I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ll have to think about this.’

‘Don’t hide anything. If you think you know something, tell me. I don’t
want any more lies!’

‘I know one thing. You’d be a fool to marry Jo. . . . But that’s only
my opinion. I must think about the rest.’

Despite the gravity of the situation, David ate his meal, but Tony
chased his food around the plate. ‘There is something, Dave . . . something I
never would have guessed meant anything if you hadn’t have brought the subject
up . . . I’m maybe wrong and I hope I am, but when she was fifteen, she did
have a kind of crush on your Dad. He was a good-looking bloke before he was
ill. She was never afraid of him, not like us. She got excited when he was
around. If there was some kind of a scene at your place, she loved it. I could
never understand why she wasn’t frightened of him. He scared the
living-daylights out of me. Then once - no twice I think, I’d come home from
work early and your Dad and Jo were alone together in the house. I could tell
they’d been foolin’ around because Jo was blushing and he was laughing. Yet
nothing really was going on, but I did wonder why he was there. I guessed he
was looking for you or your mum. My dad was away at the time and I thought it
was odd to find them together, but George was like that wasn’t he?’

David didn’t know whether to feel repulsed or relieved at Tony’s
suggestion. ‘Can you help me find out the truth and sort this mess out? Then I
can decide what to do about Jo.’

‘I’ll help you, mate.’ Tony was still serious. ‘I’ll help you all I
can. You’ve probably saved my life and I think I owe it to you. Besides, Jo’s
my sister, and I need to know what she’s been up to. I’ll come back to Keld
Head with you, but I won’t stay.’

‘I don’t expect you to, because neither will I.’

Tony started to eat his meal with more enthusiasm. ‘Aren’t you going to
lecture me, at how I managed to get into the state I’m in?’

‘Well, I don’t reckon much to your lodgings but, to be honest, at least
you’re free. I guess things just haven’t worked out as you expected, have
they?’ And, at last, David smiled.

*       
*        *

The drunken washroom attendant wasn’t too happy to be letting them in.
It was only because one of the young men looked like Jesus, and he spoke with a
soft, quiet voice and walked with such stature. He reckoned that the other
young man with red hair was some kind of disciple.

They said they were just two lads from up north, who’d come to London
to rough it for a few days. But the washroom attendant knew differently. He’d
prayed that one day he might have a visitation; that someone would come and
rescue him and help him repent of his sins.

The one with red hair said that the dark young man had been his
salvation and, that if he let them in for a good wash, he too could be so
blessed.

The attendant watched them strip to the waist and wash their long and
scraggly hair, then return to their dirty clothes. And his belief in a saviour
came true, when the red haired young man started to sing
Amazing Grace
to him and the dark haired one gave him a handful of loose coins, and thanked
him for his kindness and blessed him as they left.

*       
*        *

David and Tony took a walk through a park and laughed at the joke
they’d just played on the attendant. It was like old times, like their trip to
Blackpool; at last, they had something to laugh at. They fed some dry crusts of
bread to the ducks and talked about some of the skirmishes they’d had through
their troubled lives, hoping things would change. But Tony had a deep feeling
in his gut that one day, sooner or later, Joanne would hurt David. And David
had a hope in his mind that one day he would be free of this crazy life of his.

They travelled back to Cumbria late in the day. They had an emotional
farewell with Banjo and Twist, and Tony promised to return as soon as he could.
As they left, the old man gave Tony a small package containing twenty-pounds. Banjo
had earned it busking, and in some way had wanted to compensate for the
drinking binge that had nearly taken Tony’s life.

They arrived back at Keld Head on a cold, wet and misty night. David
tried to prepare himself mentally for a confrontation with Joanne and was
disappointed that the bungalow was empty; they guessed she’d gone to Aberdeen
again to her aunt’s. At least it gave him more time to think. The other
disappointment was that it meant David would have to make another long journey
with his sick friend.

David only glanced up the lane to the farm, and could see that every
light in the farmhouse appeared to be on. He had no desire to call and Tony
didn’t question David’s decision to stay at the bungalow. He called Kelly to
tell her he was home and safe, and she agreed to come and bring them some
groceries. She was suspicious of Tony’s secrecy and wondered why they didn’t
want to leave the bungalow. She didn’t trust David Keldas at all, and wished
Tony wasn’t involved with him.

David lit the fire and had a bath in deep, hot water. They were both
stretched out in front of the fire relaxing when someone banged on the door.
Tony went expecting to see Kelly but he returned to the sitting room with Alan
Marsh.

David didn’t make any gesture of welcome and remained seated, half
asleep, and this angered Alan. He thought David had a smug manner about
himself, and Alan was appalled at his appearance.

‘So you’re back then.’ Alan was flustered and his large body trembled
as he spoke. ‘What the deuce do you think you’re playing at? Leaving your
mother like that without a word!’

David had never seen him look as angry and authoritative.

Tony backed away and watched over Alan’s shoulder. He wondered how
David would reply. How much did Alan know?

David didn’t rise from his chair as he spoke. ‘I’m sorry, but I had to
leave.’

‘Had to leave . . . ! Going swannin’ off to goodness knows where. What
about your responsibility?’

David stood up and attempted to leave the room, not wanting to be
involved in another argument.

‘Aye, that’s it Davey . . . run away like you always do . . . ! Do you
think you’re the only one who’s had to suffer through all this? Your father
dead and your mother at her wits end, worrying herself senseless over you!’

David looked at him coldly in the eyes. ‘What responsibility is this,
Alan? Ask my mother what responsibility I have, eh?’ Ask her . . . ! What’s the
matter, are you finding it hard doing all the work yourself? Not quite what you
expected is it?’

Tony winced at his cutting words, but David persisted. ‘Besides . . . I
thought you wouldn’t mind spending a bit more time with her.’

Alan grabbed David by the arm, but Tony intervened and came between the
two men.

‘Don’t be stupid, Alan. Leave him be.’

‘Aye, I’ll leave him be all right. Don’t expect any more pity from me.’

‘I never asked for pity!’ David spat and stood his ground, and Alan was
compelled to move away. But, as he headed for the door, he turned and said,
‘Your father was buried last Thursday, and you hadn’t even the guts to come to
his funeral. I can’t understand you David. . . . It’s true what they say:
The
father eats the sour grapes, but it’s the son’s teeth that gets set on edge.’
And with that, Alan left.

David was shocked; he became pale and his heart pounded. In all his
anxiety over Tony, his search for clues about Joanne, he’d never once
considered that he might have missed the funeral. His days in London had
blended and time hadn’t mattered. Nothing had mattered anymore, except his own
self-interest and to see his friend recover.

Tony didn’t know how to console him, and could see the shock on David’s
face, as reality hit him.

‘We’ll leave for Aberdeen tomorrow. I can’t stay here any longer.’

‘Do you think he knows the truth, Dave?’

‘I’m not sure. . . . It’s up to my mother what she tells him. It’s not
my problem. I don’t need to say anything to him to justify my actions. If he
thinks bad of me, then so be it.’

When David settled down on the sofa for the night, he knew he wouldn’t
be comfortable but at least he would be warm and dry. He’d been asleep
sometime, when he was wakened. Tony had put the light on and was clattering
about in the bungalow. The noise continued and David was about to get up and
see what he was doing, when Tony appeared and threw a small book down on
David’s stomach.

‘Here . . . read this. It’ll give you nightmares!’

David, still dazed from his sleep, picked up a diary.

‘I hope this is all rubbish for your sake, Dave.’

David held the book and looked astonished. ‘What are you doing? You
can’t read someone’s diary.’

‘Well, if you don’t read it you’ll never find out the truth will you,’
Tony insisted. ‘Read it, Dave . . . just read it. Is any of this true?’

David sat up on the sofa, rubbed his eyes and read through the pages of
the private book that had been hidden in Joanne’s bedroom.

‘She must have left in a hurry, to leave this. I knew it existed, but I
didn’t know where it was. I couldn’t sleep until I’d found it.’

David began to read descriptions about himself; details of the clothes
he wore, the ones she said she’d liked. Him having his hair trimmed, and then
going to Blackpool and being in a fight. The things he’d said to her, about him
kissing her that first night. How he walked the fells with Tony and their other
exploits, his drinking sessions with Tony and Darren Watson. These were the
rational things. But then there were other things; things about her staying the
night with him at the farmhouse. How they were to be married and run away
together. How he had said he loved her. Then there were things she said they’d
done together, vividly described, things that David was appalled to read.