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Authors: Lindsey J Carden

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BOOK: Northern Spirit
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When David came in the house he ignored his mother and didn’t seem to
hear her as she asked after Barry Fitzgerald
.
Kathy was disappointed in
him, but before she was able to repeat her question, David had disappeared
upstairs.

Kathy was used to difficult teenagers, as Linzi was still only eighteen
and during her weekend breaks home from college was capable of causing
friction. But these moods of David’s were alien to her. His lack of restraint
and bad manners worried her. She’d rarely ever needed to be heavy handed on
him, George had always seen to that, perhaps unnecessarily at times. Kathy had
learned to cope with a difficult husband, and wondered how she could possibly
cope with a difficult son. She had suffered years under her husband’s
repression, with his barrage of unreasonable questions and accusations and was
longing for freedom. Kathy had always found David to be her saviour, yet,
despite that, she was reluctant to deal with his distress.

She wondered if he was going through some kind of crisis and, with all
that had happened to him it would be no surprise. But this anger and this
aggression, why couldn’t he just relax and make the most of the freedom they
all had? Kathy was about to follow him upstairs and try to talk when she heard
the shower running and knew the moment had passed by again. She looked at his
wasted meal on the table, covered it with a tin plate and put it back in the
Aga.

*       
*        *

Barry and Hannah drove on through the darkness to their next call,
hoping their long day would soon be at an end. Hannah was tired and rested her
head back on the car seat and shut her eyes. Barry was quietly thinking of
David Keldas when Hannah suddenly spoke. ‘I hope we don’t go to that farm too
often! He’s an ignorant lad isn’t he?’

Barry paused before he spoke, to best phrase what he had to say. ‘Don’t
judge him harshly, Hannah. I admit he was rude to you, but it was
uncharacteristic of David. He’s usually a likable, placid sort of lad. I’ll
spare you all the gory details, but he’s just been through a nightmare. Well,
his whole family has.’ Barry sighed. ‘You don’t want to know what happened up
at Keld Head, and I won’t gossip about this family, I rather like them. But
David’s father, George Keldas that is, was a difficult man and I could never weigh
him up. He’s given them all hell these last couple of years, for various
reasons. But let’s put it this way, he’ll never harm anyone, ever again.’

‘Oh no . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. I suppose I’ll have to get
used to these farming types won’t I. I’m really more interested in treating
small animals; maybe dealing with the general public - Dachshunds and Westies
and all.’ Hannah rested her head back again on the car seat and stared out into
the darkness.

Barry gave a wry smile. ‘I wish you wouldn’t be so idealistic, Hannah.
I suppose you’ll want to work in Cheltenham and have all your clients as
middleclass housewives with blue-rinses in their hair!’

‘Okay - okay, I get the message,’ she scowled. ‘I’ll try and act with a
bit more understanding in future. Perhaps I can use this as a learning curve.’
Hannah knew she’d upset Barry, but felt there was no excuse for David’s
behaviour. If she couldn’t get on with the locals, at least she could enjoy the
beautiful countryside for a few months.

There was a long silence before Barry started up again. ‘It’s funny but
we did something today at Keld Head that we haven’t done for years. Something
that you would never have noticed. We parked in the farmyard.’

Hannah now intrigued, looked at Barry.

‘If you thought David was rude, you would have hated to meet George
Keldas - an awkward devil! Most people around here preferred to deal with
David. George always insisted that we parked in the lane, and the gates were to
be kept closed. The only people allowed to park in the yard were his family. It
was like a fortress there sometimes. George didn’t like anyone snooping around,
you see, and he never trusted a soul - suspicious to the point of being
obsessive – guilty conscience I think. It made life difficult at times, carrying
stuff backwards and forwards from the car. You had to remember to close the
gate behind you each time. So it was strange today to see those gates open. It
sounds silly to us I know, but we have to respect their wishes, as weird as
they may be – future custom you know. So don’t despise David. He’s really a
grand lad. He’s just had a lot on his plate.’

Hannah shrunk low in her seat and hoped Barry would leave the matter
alone. ‘What’s wrong with the sheep up in Langdale?’ she said.

*       
*        *

Tom and Sarah were sat in the lounge watching television. Tom had told
Kathy, in detail, how Barry Fitzgerald had managed to deliver Silver’s calf
with the help of Hannah Robson, who he described as a boy-girl. He was glad at
last to be able to watch what he wanted on the television as his grandparents
had taken Great Aunt Betty out for a meal, as a treat for their last night
together, before they took her home to her cottage near Hawkshead; they were to
return to Lancaster.

Kathy, still wearing her printed apron from washing the dishes, flopped
down on the sofa and drifted off into a much needed sleep. She was stirred as
she felt the cushions on the sofa sag with someone’s weight. She opened her
eyes and it was David, now washed and changed. His dark hair was still wet and
curling in its familiar way. He smelt clean and manly, his face and body
covered in aftershave lotion, and he was obviously going out. As he bent over
and struggled to put on a pair of brown suede boots, Kathy watched him for a
while wondering where he was going but glad that, momentarily, he’d decided to
sit down.

‘Davey . . . Please don’t go out before you have your tea.’

‘I’m not hungry.’ He spoke softly and deliberately.

‘Will the calf be alright now?’

‘Yes. I’ve left the light on. You could maybe check her for me later,
if you will? I’ll look in on her when I get back. If you’re worried, I’m only
at the pub.’ He stuffed some money into the pockets of his jeans, pulled his
sweater over his head and was gone.

Kathy slapped her hands together. ‘Right you two,’ she jumped up.
‘Sarah. . . . Let’s get you in the bath. And don’t disappear, Tom, because
you’re next!’

 

It was a cool evening, the rain had stopped and David enjoyed his walk
down the hill. The village was quiet. He felt at last a sense of freedom, but
wondered how often he would be able to do this in the future. David did like a
drink, but he hadn’t always had the chance of late. He had stayed in, compelled
to try and keep the peace between his mother and his father, and he didn’t always
feel like the company. He was often not just tired with working, but from
spending hours wandering the hills looking for his father, afraid he may come
to some harm. And now as he walked out to the pub, he hadn’t considered that
his mother might have wanted to spend some time alone with him. David was also
still sulking over his mistake with Silver, and his lack of courtesy with
Hannah Robson, and was deep in thought.

Passing one of the cottages on the hill, David saw a man lighting up a
cigarette in the doorway. He stopped, glanced quickly and turned away. He knew
it was foolish, but he thought how much the man looked like his father. And as
he walked on, he guessed the man was behind him, just a few paces away, and it
took every ounce of self-restraint not to run. David remembered how he’d teased
Tom about seeing spies in the woodland, yet he was reacting just the same. He
desperately wanted to be lighthearted again, but couldn’t be.

As David entered the pub, the warmth from the log fire immediately soothed
him. He went across to order a drink and was resting his elbows in the bar,
when someone’s hand fell heavily on his shoulders.


Where have you been, my lovely?
’ a voice was singing softly in
his ears.

David lunged forward and almost spilt his drink. ‘For pity’s sake, Tony
. . . !’

‘Arhh . . . How did you know it was me . . . ? You’ve spoiled all my
fun.’ Tony Milton grinned at David. ‘So you’ve finally come out of hiding, have
you?’

‘Well, I reckon I need all the friends I can get right now. I’m surprised
you want to be seen with me - bad company and all.’

‘Don’t talk stupid. I’ll take that risk.’ Tony gestured. ‘We’re all
over here.’

As David turned and looked across the crowded room he saw a handful of
his friends over in the corner: Tony’s sister, Joanne, and Darren Watson an old
college friend; he must have walked straight past them.

‘Come on over and lighten up, mate?’

‘I want to . . . believe you me. I need a bit of fun in my life, but I
don’t know if now’s the right time?’ David shook his head.

‘Then at least try.’ Tony led him across and, almost childlike, David
complied.

Tony and Joanne Milton were David’s neighbours. They looked like they
were twins, in that they both had long red hair, but they weren’t. They had
been David’s schoolmates, playmates, and collaborators and had lived in the
bungalow down the hill from Keld Head as long as David cared to remember. They
were close childhood friends and had seen David through most of the highs and
lows of his life, understanding well the problems the Keldas family had been
through, but somehow, much like David, had tried to learn to live with them. As
friends and neighbours they’d become intimate with the domestic difficulties of
each other’s family. Their own mother had left them some years ago, leaving
their father to bring them up single-handed. This caused no embarrassment, but
served to bond them all; keeping confidences, being discreet as not to promote
village talk, respecting each other’s lives with a kind of trust and dignity
that they deserved.

Tony understood the changeable moods of David’s father. And from being
quite small he had learned when it was a good time to stay and when it was a
good time to leave. He remembered as a child, playing on the floor of the
farmhouse kitchen, when George Keldas came in and tipped a box full of grass
cuttings all over the kitchen table. He was incensed because Kathy had only
made a salad for lunch; he’d shouted that they would all have to eat like
animals to get some belly-fill. Tony Milton had calmly taken hold of Joanne’s
little hand and led her away home, picking up their toys as they left.

Tonight, David found he was able to relax with his friends, but as the
evening drew on, it was clear that he was still, understandably, grieving. He
drank too much and he talked too much; considerably so, for David. And he was
beginning to be the worse for it; laughing at things he shouldn’t and
apologising when he needn’t.

As closing time approached, one by one, the group of friends left,
leaving only David, with Tony and Joanne Milton to walk back up the hill to
Keld Head together.

‘Come on, Dave. It’s an early start for you tomorrow?’

‘I’m not bothered about that now,’ David slurred. ‘Alan Marsh is
milking tomorrow.’

‘Oh, he’s getting his foot back in the door again is he?’

‘What choice do I have? I can’t work every day for the rest of my life
can I? Besides, it was Mum’s idea.’

‘Aye. It would be.’

‘Haven’t you got a calf to check on, Davey?’ Joanne said. ‘You haven’t
forgotten have you?’

David had forgotten.

The three of them talked in the cold night air, and warm breath escaped
as a fine mist from their mouths as they joked and chatted all the way back to
the farm. They reached Keld Head with strained voices, breathless with the
incline. Tony was a pace behind.

‘I could have walked home with my eyes shut following your trail of
aftershave,’ Tony gasped. ‘Or are you trying to cover up something else? What
on earth is it?’

David ignored his question, but Joanne knew exactly what it was; she
loved the smell of Brut.

Tony then fumbled in his pockets. ‘Man . . . ! I’ve left my keys on the
table.’ He wheeled around and started to jog back to the village.

Joanne went across to the old Pele tower to shelter inside its sturdy
walls as they’d often done as children, when David took her arm and restrained
her. ‘Don’t go in there, Jo, please.’

‘I’m sorry, Davey . . . I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise.’

‘No . . . no, you wouldn’t.’ He took her hand and led her across to a
wall, lifting her petite body high onto the slates. They huddled together in
the cold, sheltering under the side of the farmhouse; Joanne was shivering.

Why David didn’t invite her into the house, she’d no idea, but she knew
him well enough not to let that trouble her. He must have his reasons, and the
answer, as she thought, soon became clear. David was slow to appreciate how
cold she was, but eventually pulled himself across and gave her his jacket;
throwing it over her shoulders. As they sat closely together he put his arm
around her and pulled her closer to him. Her long red hair blew with the breeze
and touched his face. And as he tried to tame it, he looked at the beauty and
innocence in Joanne’s young face and his senses sharpened. He now felt more at
ease with himself than he’d done all day; more carefree, or careless, as he was
soon to find out.

Joanne Milton was five years younger than David and Tony. She’d only
just turned eighteen and David hadn’t been slow in realising she’d grown into a
beautiful young woman, and he’d been the protector of her many times. She was a
delicate girl and sensitive by nature. He was always telling her to toughen up
a bit. David felt her fragile nature made her appear like a china doll; she was
easy prey and vulnerable. And tonight it was David who unwittingly became
captive to Joanne’s spell, and he understood how others had felt as they’d
tried to win her over.

As he held her hair in his hands, and saw her face, pale and blanched,
she became unreal to him. Then he did something he would regret for the rest of
his life; he kissed her, not as a friend, but as a lover. David didn’t know why
he did it. Perhaps it was the feel of her hair; he loved the touch of a woman’s
hair. Maybe it was because he felt comfortable with her as she never demanded
of him. But at the time, he didn’t care why he had kissed her; he only knew he
just had to do it.

BOOK: Northern Spirit
10.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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