Authors: Josephine Cox
Nancy noticed it and was instantly suspicious. ‘All right, husband! What have you been up to?’
‘Nothing!’ He gave a sideways wink at Joe.
‘So why have you got a face like the cat that got the cream?’
Tom held out his half-empty mug. ‘If you’ll be so good as to top that up, I might tell you why.’
‘Hmm!’ She took his mug and filled it up, then brought it back but held on to it. ‘Go on then…explain!’
‘Give us me tea.’
‘Not till you’ve told me!’
‘You’re a wicked woman, Nancy Arnold!’
‘I’m still waiting!’ She kept the mug out of his reach.
Tom knew he wouldn’t get his tea until he told her. ‘You might be pleased to know that our son, Joe, has just told me he won’t be leaving, and that he’s staying here with us. Now then, woman, what d’you think to that?’
Nancy’s response was to drop the mug in front of Tom. ‘That’s wonderful news!’ Grabbing Joe in a bear-hug she squeezed him till he hurt. ‘You don’t know how happy that makes me, son,’ she told him tearfully, ‘I got it into my head that once you’d done your duty as best man, you’d be away and then we might never see you again!’
Joe opened his heart to her. ‘I’ll be honest with you, Mum, all the time I was away, I was never happy, not really. Oh, I saw different places and I tried this and that, but this place, and all
of you, were never far from my thoughts. So! I’m back now, and for the time being at least, this is where I want to be.’
When they were all sat round the table sipping their tea, Tom and Joe began planning the work schedule for the day.
‘It’ll be no use relying on Frank today,’ Nancy chipped in with a knowing wink. ‘He’ll not see daylight for a few hours yet I’ll be bound.’
Tom pretended to be shocked. ‘Whatever are you implying, woman, at your age an’ all?’
‘Aw, shut up you!’ She flicked the dishcloth at him. ‘We’ve had our day. Now it’s the young ‘uns turn.’
Joe tried to hide the pain in his face and he was reminded again that Alice was now firmly Frank’s woman, though he had to smile at the banter between his parents.
These two were not wealthy; they didn’t even own the roof over their head and yet, just having each other, they had everything, Joe thought. They were uniquely happy, and totally content with the life they had made together.
Joe could not help but wonder if he would ever have a marriage like theirs: honest and open, with laughter in their hearts and children round the table.
For one precious moment, he allowed himself to think of Alice, and his heart was sore.
‘Right then, Dad.’ Pushing thoughts of Alice from his mind, he got out of his chair and glanced up at the wall clock. ‘It’s quarter to six…time I got started.’
Nancy scrambled out of her chair. ‘Don’t you go off without the sandwich and flask. It’ll only take me a minute. I already sliced the meat, and the kettle will be singing in no time at all.’
Joe thanked her, before addressing his father. ‘Where would you like me to start this morning, Dad?’
‘Well, I’m not sure. Whatever you think is the most urgent, I suppose,’ Tom replied thoughtfully. ‘The trouble is, I’m not altogether up with everything. Frank never thinks to keep me
informed. I reckon he thinks he’s in charge and I don’t matter…the cheeky devil!’
He rubbed his fingers across his stubbly chin; a familiar trait whenever he was thinking hard. ‘Are there any jobs half done?’ he asked, ‘I could never be doing with jobs half done!’
‘Well, there’s that fencing at the top of the rise,’ Joe said. ‘By the looks of it, Frank’s already made a start on it, and I do believe it’s the next job on his list. The thing is, I noticed the sheep have already moved on to graze the banks up there. With only half the fencing done, they could well work their way down and on to the crops, and besides, if anybody walking the rise should lose their footing, it’s one hell of a dangerous drop from the top, down to the craggy bottom, with nothing solid to stop their fall in between.’
Tom agreed. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘The fencing along that ridge should be Frank’s first priority! It has to be finished, but it’s a hard job on your own. Look, you get the stuff up there and I’ll see if I can’t get Jimmy Slater to come up and give you a hand.’
Joe reminded him, ‘Frank won’t like that. Him and Jimmy had a bit of a disagreement.’
Tom gave a weary sigh. ‘D’you know what it was all about?’
Joe deliberately played it down. ‘Something and nothing.’
‘I see, and Jimmy came off worse. No matter. There’ll be time enough for me to get to the bottom of it, but for now, disagreement or not that fencing needs doing. Moreover, I reckon I should make something very clear to you, son.’
‘Oh?’ Joe was eager to be gone. ‘And what’s that?’
‘Just that,
I
have the last word on any decision with regards to this farm.’ Asserting his authority, he went on, ‘Frank might like to think he’s in charge, but he isn’t; not when it comes right down to it.’
He spoke with deliberation.
‘I’m
the one whose name is on the rent book, and
I’m
the one who pays the rent.’
There was one other thing he thought Joe should know. ‘If your brother is so determined to strike out on his own, I’ll be hoping to rely on you heavily, Joe. If there comes a time when you want to go your own way, then that’s entirely up to you. In the meantime though, if Frank does walk away, any decisions with regard to this place, will be for me and you to make.’
‘And what about
me
?’ Nancy’s voice sailed across the kitchen. ‘I suppose I’m just a woman, so I don’t get a say, is that it?’
Winking at Joe, Tom swung round. ‘Do you
want
a say?’ he asked her.
‘Don’t be silly! Don’t you think I’ve got enough to do, without running the farm as well!’
The two men burst into laughter, while Nancy flounced off, secretly smiling. She was pleased to the heart with everything she’d heard.
A moment later, she returned with a bag for Joe. ‘Here! Don’t forget your flask and sandwiches,’ she told him. ‘And make sure you take a coat. It might look warm what with the sun shining, but it can change at the drop of a hat, as you well know.’
Collecting his coat from the back of the chair, Joe picked up his bag. Thanking Nancy, he gave her a peck on the cheek and when they thought he’d gone out the door, he came quickly back. ‘I forgot! I haven’t fed the falcon. I’d best do it now…’
‘No need!’ Nancy waved her hand. ‘I’ll do it…or Tom will. You get off now, son. Like your father said, we’ll try and get a hold of Jimmy to come and give you a hand.’
She made her way over to the dresser. ‘I’ve an idea Frank wrote his number by the telephone.’
While she rummaged, Tom asked Joe, ‘Did Frank leave the tools up there with the fencing?’
Joe searched his memory. ‘I’m pretty sure the rolls of fencing
are still up there, but I noticed the tools are lying in the back of the wagon.’
Tom groaned. ‘How many times have I told Frank not to leave tools out in the open! Tools cost money! Leave ‘em out and they get rusty, which means in time the tools aren’t fit to do the job they were got for.’
He went to the drawer and got out a set of keys. ‘Here!’ Throwing them to Joe, he advised, ‘…the wagon keys.’
When Joe said he would prefer to walk, Tom insisted, ‘You don’t want to be carrying tools all the way up there. Besides, it’ll be handy to throw the old fencing on, and you might want to bring back any new fencing that’s left over.’
Having found Jimmy’s telephone number, Nancy handed it to Tom. ‘You can get hold of him, while I see to the bird.’
Tom swiftly handed the paper back. ‘It was you that wanted a damned telephone in the house!’ he argued. ‘You know very well, I don’t like the blessed thing. Everybody shouting at each other ‘cause they can’t hear properly.’
When he slammed the paper down, Nancy ignored his tantrum and turned to Joe. ‘Do like your dad says and take the wagon,’ she advised. ‘If it turns wet or cold, you’ll be able to sit in there with your tea and sandwiches.’
‘Not a problem.’ Joe took his leave, calling back as he went, ‘Oh, about the falcon! You’ll find his tin of food on the floor beneath the cage. And mind you’re careful with him, Mum. He’s a bit nervous, and his wing is still not strong enough. I don’t want him escaping…at least not for another day or so.’
‘Go on with you!’ Nancy called back, ‘I’ve lost count of the times you’ve come home with injured creatures. I think we’ve had enough practice looking after them, don’t you?’
Joe went on his way smiling. ‘See you later!’
Once outside, he climbed into the wagon, turned the key and shifted into forward gear; there was a crunch and a whine,
and then he was off. ‘I don’t know about the tools getting rusty,’ he chuckled, ‘…but this old wagon seems to be getting a bit tired an’ all.’
Bumping over ridges and skirting potholes, he wended his way up to the highest point, constantly shifting gear and hanging on to the steering wheel, as the road got rougher. ‘It’s as well the sheep have an appetite for the scrub up here,’ he muttered, while being shaken top to toe, ‘because it’s fit for nothing else!’
Busy concentrating on the way ahead, Joe had no idea he was being followed.
Keeping his car well back, Frank stayed close enough to keep an eye on Joe. ‘Looks like he’s headed for the rise.’ He was satisfied with that. ‘The further away from peeping eyes, the better.’
At the foot of the bank, he drew into the spinney. Hiding the vehicle in the shrubbery, he then collected the shotgun from the back and, securing it tight under his arm, he proceeded up the bank; ducking and diving so as not to be seen.
On foot he moved with speed and cunning: like the hunter after its prey.
‘That’s it, Joe!’ Excited and nervous, he kept after him. ‘On your way to do the fencing is it? You took my woman, and now you’re taking my work!’
Like a man possessed, he snaked his way up to the heights, his hatred like a clenched fist inside him. ‘You’re a dead man, Joe!’ he kept muttering. ‘A dead man!’
Back in the farmhouse kitchen, unaware of the tragic events already unfolding, Tom enjoyed another mug of tea.
After several times trying to contact Jimmy, Nancy dropped the big, black receiver into its cradle. ‘Stupid thing!’
‘What? Can’t you get him then?’
‘No!’ She stood, hands on hips, wondering what to do next. ‘I can’t get through!’ she grumbled. ‘There’s some silly devil at the other end crackling a paper bag or at least that’s what it sounded like!’ Frustrated, she marched into the kitchen.
Tom smiled. ‘I told you them things weren’t worth the space they take up, didn’t I, eh?’
‘Tom Arnold! If you don’t want strangling, you’d best keep your tongue between your teeth!’
For a moment there was silence, then, ‘Nancy?’
‘What now?’
‘I wouldn’t mind another piece of toast before I see to the falcon.’
It was a moment or two before Nancy returned with a plate of toast. ‘You eat that,’ she instructed, ‘I’ll go and feed Joe’s bird. You can’t be climbing up to the cage, not with that gammy leg. You’ll likely slip and do yourself a damage.
Then
where would we be, eh?’
He sighed. ‘Now that I’m getting old, you think I’m useless, don’t you?’
Nancy smiled. ‘I’ve
always
thought you were useless,’ she teased, ‘but I love you anyway.’ And to confirm it, she gave him a kiss on the mouth. ‘Eat your toast,’ she said,
He had other thoughts on his mind. ‘What about Jimmy?’ he asked. ‘Joe can’t manage that fencing on his own. It’s a job for two men.’
‘When you’ve had your toast, you can have another go at getting hold of Jimmy. I’ve tried and got nowhere, and anyway, I’ve the bird to see to.’
Prepared for any weather, she donned her hat and coat.
Before she left, she informed Tom, ‘Go on then! Get on to that telephone, before Jimmy leaves the house, because then you’ll not be able to get him at all, and like you said, our Joe can’t do the fencing on his own now, can he?’
With Nancy gone, Tom got out of his chair and ambled across to the telephone, where he gingerly picked up the receiver. He then noted the number on the piece of paper that Nancy had left there. Slowly and carefully, he dialled the number and held the receiver aganst his ear. ‘Hello, who’s there?’
He waited a moment, before asking again, this time with impatience, ‘Who’s there?’ He held the receiver away from him, then he pressed it back to his ear and when there was no sound, he replaced the receiver into its cradle. He tried again. He picked up the receiver, dialled the number and listened. ‘Ah! It’s ringing!’ His face lit up.
He waited, and waited, and it went on ringing, and then his patience ran out. ‘Bloody rubbish thing!’ The receiver bounced as he slammed it back into its cradle. ‘I’d best get Nancy.’
He was just opening the front door to go and find Nancy, when he heard her yelling for him, ‘Tom! Come quickly!’ Her screams echoed across the yard.
Rushing as fast as his dodgy legs would carry him, he burst into the barn. ‘What in God’s name…
Nancy
! Whatever’s happened?’
Nancy was in a heap on the hay bale, rocking back and forth, and sobbing like he had never seen her sob before. ‘Look, Tom!’ She could hardly speak. ‘Look at what they’ve done!’
When he got to her, she held out her hands and lying there, badly mutilated and dying in agony, was Joe’s falcon. ‘Look, Tom!’ Nancy sobbed. ‘Who could have done such a terrible thing!’
Deeply upset, Nancy pleaded with him. ‘Help it, Tom, it’s in such pain. We have to do something. Help it, Tom…please, help it!’
With tears rolling down her face, she handed him the bird,
its eyes wide open, and its body shivering with pain. ‘I’m sorry, Tom, love…but we can’t let it suffer.’
‘All right, Nancy, I understand. Ssh now.’ Tom had never seen her so distraught.
Choked with emotion, he took the bird, and for a split second he felt its body twitch in his hands; he saw the way its wing had been viciously torn out, and his old heart broke with the sadness of it all. ‘Go inside, love,’ he murmured to Nancy, ‘I’ll be along in a minute.’
Quietly sobbing, Nancy left, touching him reassuringly on the arm as she went. ‘Oh, Tom, who could have done such a cruel thing!’