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Authors: Lindsey J Carden

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BOOK: Northern Spirit
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As she worked, she became aware someone was watching her. She turned
and saw David standing behind her, wearing Barry’s navy blue bathrobe. He
looked scrubbed and clean, his face a little puffy from sleep.

‘Good morning, or should I say good afternoon, David.’

He stayed motionless at the door, unsure of what to do. He hesitated,
and then padded bare foot across the cold lino towards her.

‘I have strict instructions to get you some breakfast.’ Hannah’s face
said everything.

All he could say, was, ‘thank you.’

David sat at the table and watched her working as she started to fry
the eggs and grill the bacon. She chatted to him nervously about her morning’s
work; how she had removed some rotting teeth from a poodle, and helped give an
elderly labrador a hysterectomy.

David had the appetite to eat everything Hannah gave him, as she sat
opposite him across the table. When he finished, he reached across the table to
take hold of her hand. ‘I’m going to miss you, Hannah.’

‘I don’t want to go, Davey. I don’t want to leave you and Barry.’

‘I’m flattered you feel that way. I can understand it about Barry, but
I’m not worth it. . . .’ and he shook his head. ‘I must persuade you to go, as
much as I want you to stay. . . . Don’t hang around for a loser like me. You can’t
let all those years of work go to waste.’

‘But there’s so much here for me. Barry said he would have given up
everything he could for you, but your mother wouldn’t let him.’

‘Maybe she was right.’ David squeezed her hand. ‘I can give you
nothing. What have I got? An old car and that’s it! I’ve no money and probably
no job . . . oh, yes my genetic makeup may be accounted for now,’ he wryly
smiled, ‘but look at the upbringing I’ve had. Surely, George’s influence will
have more say on my character than Barry’s ever will. I’m at rock bottom,
Hannah.’

‘None of that matters. It’s you - it’s you that matters, can’t you see
it,’ then she laughed. ‘I think I hated you once, you know, but that didn’t
last long. When I saw you with Linzi at the bus-station, I thought you were
lovers, I was so jealous. When I thought you had something going with Joanne
Milton, I found myself hating her. Any way, you do have something: this house
is rightly yours and this wealth.’ Hannah gestured. ‘Barry will look after you
now.’

‘That doesn’t matter to me. . . . I’d rather live at Foxglove Cottage
and sleep in my aunt’s rickety old bed. This luxury isn’t for me.’

Hannah knew David was right and was pleased he was no gold digger. His
honesty endeared him more to her.

‘On the day of Uncle Fred’s funeral I vowed I’d never leave Keld Head
or marry any one. And I think that decision influenced my behaviour - I was
rude to you, I know. And I’ve done nothing these last six months to make up for
it. I only flirted with you to satisfy my own desire.’

‘Oh . . . thanks, Davey! And is that what this is all about?’ Hannah
held her gaze at him - she had to be sure.

‘No, it isn’t . . . I’m sorry. I’m useless with words. I want more than
flirting, Hannah. But remember I would have been in prison, if I hadn’t have
lied. I could have killed Joanne you know!’

‘Oh, for goodness sake, David! Stop it. I could have
killed
her
too, when I found out what she’d done to you.’ Hannah gathered up the empty
dishes and took them to the kitchen sink and, turning her back on David, began
to run the hot water. It didn’t matter what he said; Hannah’s feelings for
David had taken over and her heart was careering out of control. There was
nothing more he could say that would change her opinion of him. She knew she
was being irrational. She lowered her head and wanted to cry. She stood for a
few moments unable to speak and wondered how he would respond.

Then she felt David slide his arms around her waist and envelop her. He
leant on her back and began to kiss the nape of her neck and her hair,
whispering and breathing softly in her ear. ‘I’m sorry, Hannah, I’ve made you
cry . . . I only want to do what’s best for you.’

She reached
back and their hands entwined; fingers were bound together as an unbreakable
chain.

22

 

 

WITH GOLD

 

 

Kathy once again tried to take charge of her son and, for now, he let
her. She understood that their relationship would have to take on another
aspect; if David put his foot down she would have to relent and, besides, there
was now another woman in his life who would have a greater influence.

Kathy liked Hannah. She was a pretty girl, sensible too, and would be
good for David. But it was Hannah’s bond with Barry that recommended her the
most, and if Barry didn’t think so much of her, Kathy doubted she would.

Hannah had also made David happy again. He laughed and teased as he
used to. Some of his wit he’d learned from spending long days with Tony Milton.

Kathy had been devastated about the behaviour of her dead husband; she
never believed him to be the adulterer as he’d rightly accused her. She was
still uncertain if they’d been told the truth and perhaps Joanne Milton was
fantasising again. But it meant her relationship with Barry could take on a new
meaning, as David was no longer ignorant of the past. Yet, even in this, she
would have to be cautious and not cause any gossip. She would continue to keep
David’s genealogy a secret.

David still refused to talk about Keld Head and showed little interest
in the farm. It disturbed Kathy to think how much work he’d left her with, but
she treated it as a just punishment for her error. And as much as she wanted
him back, it had to come from him, but it didn’t.

On the first occasion when they were alone at Barry’s house, she
confronted him about Keld Head.

‘David, you must think about your future. What are you going to do?
Will you come back to Keld Head?’

He looked at her, bewildered. ‘No, I’ll go back to look after Betty and
try and get another job. . . . I can’t leave her now.’

Kathy was ashamed she hadn’t considered it; she was still thinking of
herself. ‘Then you’re more righteous than I am, son. Don’t worry about money;
look after Betty and we’ll help you out. She isn’t short of a penny or two. If
you go back to her, she’ll do anything to see that you stay. If Betty can see
out her days with you, she’ll be happy.’

David had already thought this out.

*      
*        *

On Hannah’s last few days, they were inseparable. They had walked
together, laughed and played like children, tormenting Barry with late nights
and loud music. He said he would be glad of some peace, but that was a lie.

The morning Hannah was due to leave was a scorcher; deep blue sky was
speckled with white fluffy clouds, which floated across the horizon on gentle
breezes. The fells stood out gloriously, enticing her to stay; but she was
committed to go.

The emotional rescue of David had taken its toll on Hannah’s feelings.
But the few days’ rest with him and his happy and cheerful manner bonded them
closer.

She learned how alike Barry and David were, not only in appearance but
also in disposition. In fact, Hannah was glad David was returning to Betty’s
cottage before their connection was discovered. Their obvious similarities may
have given away their true relationship to anyone who saw the two men together.
But Hannah had more than one concern about David, as he never mentioned Joanne
Milton to her and, in some ways, she wished he had; she hoped David had nothing
more to tell, but his silence on the matter did nothing to reassure her.

David packed away his few belongings in a holdall and put them in
Barry’s spare car. Hannah insisted she be the one to take David home to
Foxglove Cottage. Home, was the expression David had used when he left Barry.
He didn’t mean to infer any disrespect for the kindness he’d received, and
neither did he want to snub Barry’s offer of a roof over his head; he knew he
may need it one day.

*       
*        *

When Betty saw Hannah again, she peered into her lovely brown eyes. She
remembered the young woman now; her features had become lost in her memory. But
Betty hadn’t forgotten how easy David was with Hannah, and she understood why
he liked her.

Betty had only been given a partial explanation of why David was in
trouble with the police, and had only been told he’d had a row with Joanne and
she had attacked him; Betty had surmised that Joanne and David must have been
lovers at some time. She was pleased this was no longer the case: she didn’t
care for Joanne Milton.

‘Sit down, Hannah. Talk to my aunt and I’ll make some tea before you
go.’ David ushered her into Betty’s parlour.

Hannah looked around the room at the furnishings, old and dated, yet
becoming for Foxglove Cottage. This was the first time she’d been inside the
house and could see why David loved it here. It had a smell about it which she
found reassuring, a little fusty and old, but welcoming. The sun had cast a
pleasing glow to the parlour as Hannah looked out of the window; a velvety
purple clematis tumbled in the breeze above the lintel.

She went across to the mantelpiece and picked up a photograph. ‘I’ve
seen this one before.’

‘Yes, David was about thirteen then,’ Betty said. ‘He won that prize
for the best calf in show. That’s Mr Fitzgerald with him. You can take it if
you like.’

‘Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly . . . it’s yours.’ Hannah put the
photograph back in its place and sat down.

‘No, take it please. I have a tin full of them in my dresser. I have
that one three times over. I’ll maybe show you them all one day.’

‘If Aunt Betty wants you to have it, Hannah, take it, or we’ll not hear
the last of it.’ David said.

‘So, Davey, I hope you haven’t got used to the finery up at that big
house in Windermere; you’ll come down to earth here. It was good of Mr
Fitzgerald to help you. He’s been a good friend to your family.’

David eyed Hannah, but she was still looking at the old photograph;
this was David’s problem and time for him to change the subject.

*       
*        *

Hannah left him at Foxglove Cottage, with eyes full of tears. She cried
all the way to the ferry. The photograph of David and Barry was on the seat
beside her and each time she looked at it, more tears came. David had hugged
her and kissed her, and had helped her to leave, yet she couldn’t speak; he had
found it hard too. He promised to write and call when he could and she wondered
how often that would be.

*       
*        *

Alan Marsh swept the floor of the dairy and glanced around the door as
he thought he heard the Mercedes leaving. He had been fumbling around looking
for more work to do; he should have been in Barrow-in-Furness by now. He’d been
called in to help Barry with a heifer that was lame and needed an injection of
penicillin.

Alan had noted that Kathy spent a lot of time in Windermere visiting
David. He was pleased David hadn’t got into any serious trouble, but what the
trouble was, he didn’t know. He didn’t understand why Barry had put David up,
thinking rightly that David had some attachment to Hannah.

He could visualise David going out of control with his abrupt manner,
his self-centred attitude, and now this trouble with the police. It irritated
Alan not to know why the police had held him for so long. He thought perhaps it
was for a serious motoring offence, like drinking and driving. Alan had even
spent some evenings at the hotel where David worked, hoping that someone would
gossip. But all he heard was that he had been sacked for not turning into work
after the police had called. Alan felt David was turning into a waster and had
no time for him anymore.

Then Kathy had invited Barry in for coffee. Alan was hurt that he
hadn’t been confided in. He also knew that Barry’s wife had left him, and that
he and Kathy did have a brief fling when they were teenagers and he feared
Barry might get back into Kathy’s life.

As much as Alan had wanted Kathy; he had once hoped he could have
married her. But now he knew he couldn’t deal with David’s prominence in her
life. Tom and Sarah, well, they were just kids, and he did have a good
relationship with the boy; poor thing, he’d now been deserted by his father and
his brother. Alan guessed that Linzi’s moods would drive him crazy, and he
wondered if his relationship with Kathy would have to remain as it always had
been: just good friends.

As Barry left, Alan went indoors in an excuse to tell Kathy he had to
leave for Barrow. She appeared calm and happy. Her hair was neatly styled in a
knot and twisted up on her head and her lips were glossy with lipstick. The
work clothes had gone and she was wearing a pretty summer dress and this week,
since the incident with David, she had left the house every day neatly dressed,
and Alan guessed that this wasn’t just to please her son.

‘You look radiant today,’ he looked longingly at her.

Kathy realised he would feel abandoned and immediately attempted to
make some coffee to compensate him.

‘No. . . . No coffee. I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.’

‘Well, thanks again for helping. I don’t think we could have managed it
ourselves.’

‘No, I don’t suppose you would. It’s a pity you have to manage on your
own at all.’

Kathy didn’t want any old wounds re-opened. She knew exactly what Alan
thought of David and hesitated before she spoke. ‘When will you come again?’

‘I may pop back tonight,’ he said hopefully.

‘Ah . . . I won’t be in.’

‘That’s okay, don’t worry.’

‘Well, it’s Barry. He’s feeling down at the moment and I promised I’d
call. Hannah’s gone today, you know.’

‘Yes, but isn’t David still with him?’ Alan hinted.

‘No. . . . No, he’s back at Betty’s today.’

Alan’s mind mused over the situation. ‘Well, I’m off then.’ And
realising he was no longer required, headed for the door.

BOOK: Northern Spirit
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