Northern Spirit (40 page)

David jumped off the wall and took her bag. ‘It’s no good arguing with
her, Hannah. I’ll take you back. I’ll get the car out, or we’ll never hear the
last of it.’

She put up no further resistance and, for the second time that day,
David drove to the ferry.

They talked most of the journey. David told Hannah of his job at the
pub, no longer wanting to hide anything. She told him about her job prospects
in Wales and how much she would miss the Lakes. This was the longest one-to-one
conversation they’d ever had.

He parked the car and they walked down the slipway together; they saw
the ferry on the opposite shore, ready to leave.

‘Give Barry my regards, won’t you,’ David said as he stood close beside
her, not looking at her but staring out across the lake.

‘Why don’t you come and see him? I’m sure he’d love to see you.’

David was surprised. ‘Do you think so?’ He stood bolt upright with his
hands pushed deep into his pockets.

‘Of course he would. Why don’t you come tomorrow night, it’s his day
off. Maybe we can all go out for a drink or something?’

‘Well, if you think he wouldn’t mind.’ David turned, looked her in the
eye and smiled, then picked up her rucksack. He awkwardly slipped it on her
shoulders and inadvertently felt the touch of her soft hair on his hand. He
felt compelled to lift a lock of hair away from the strap and curl it around
her neck.

‘Call tomorrow evening then, Davey.’

‘Tomorrow?’ he stressed.

‘Yes, tomorrow.’

The ferry approached the slipway and David walked as far as he could
with her. And as he watched her playfully wave at him he took in a sharp intake
of breath as he realised she had called him Davey.

*       
*        *

Betty was talking to a neighbour over the garden wall when David
returned. So he dodged inside the cottage and rushed upstairs to his room. He
frantically began to sort through his clothes. His laundry basket was crammed
full so he pulled out socks and underwear ready to wash. He looked at Fred’s
old blazer hanging in his wardrobe, pulled it out and muttered as he threw it
down on the bed. He thought of his best suede jacket hung in the wardrobe back
at Keld Head and knew he had the motivation needed to return. David dropped his
shoulders and muttered, ‘I’ll have to go tomorrow!’

19

KELD HEAD - THE RETURN

The early morning sunshine cast pleasing glances on Keld Head. It had
windows like eyes that watched and waited. The slated roof on the farmhouse
appeared wet from the glare, despite the tiles being roughened from years of
weathering from rain and snow. The porch on the front door was like a large
mouth wishing to welcome and to say hello and come inside. It had spat David
out but, today, it waited expectantly for his return.

The small Pele tower beside the barn had a flat roof, and it cast a
dark shadow on the yard. This was a cold corner. It was never used for animals,
only ever used as a store for bags of fertiliser and the like, its value long
gone. And no more was Keld Head in fear of Celtic intruders; it had its own
civil war, culminating in the death of Fred and George Keldas. Moss had fallen
or had been removed by nesting birds from the dark recesses of the tower and it
littered the darkened yard. But in contrast there were a few spring flowers
growing in crevices on the garden wall, cascading down in lilac and white,
glowing in the sunshine and mingling amongst the faded daffodils.

This is where east watched west and grey watched white - a cold war.

*       
*        *

David walked out early this morning and noticed the first of the
bluebells flowering in the woods, and the wild garlic he crushed under his
boots gave off their pungent scent. He wondered if Hannah had seen them
yesterday and guessed she would have liked them. He thought she was a spirited
girl to walk alone, and he assumed she must be a good walker to come all the
way from Nab Point. He smiled when he thought of his aunt’s concern over the
fabled Crier of Claife. David had walked that forest night and day and never
feared a thing, except his own personality.

He wondered today how it would feel to go back home. It would be easier
than he imagined. The day was fine and dry and that helped.

The stone signpost bore the name of Grasmere and as David drove on
through the busy town packed with visitors, he felt secure with his anonymity.
Just a drive up the hill, across the fell road, under the trees and over the
bridge to the small hamlet of Keld Head. The old Volvo should have been
familiar with this journey.

David tried not to think of who he might meet or what he might say.
He’d been unsettled in the night thinking about this, and decided to just go
and get his suede jacket and a few of his belongings. That would surely signal
once and for all that he wouldn’t be staying. He didn’t belong to Keld Head
anymore and it seemed to have abandoned him long ago. The only hope he had was
that he might meet Linzi first; she’d already been the icebreaker. He felt then
that he could leave with no resentment and begin to mend the rift he’d had with
his mother.

He swung the car around into the yard, the gate was wide open and all
was silent. He didn’t look about and resisted the urge to look across to the
tower. He walked straight into the kitchen; the door was unlocked. Again, all
was silent.

David noticed that the kitchen was as clean and tidy as usual and as he
edged quietly around the parlour door, saw the fire was laid ready for
lighting, the oak furniture was polished, and the house appeared to be empty.

He called upstairs but still no response. He ran up to his bedroom,
jumping two steps at a time as he used to. He pushed open the door and walked
in. He felt like an intruder.

His bed was made, his books and papers were all in place, and his
clothes folded neat and tidy, much as he’d left them.

Quickly raking through his wardrobe and pulling out jackets, trousers
and shirts, David threw them down on the bed. And much like a thief, he rooted
through his chest of drawers for pullovers and underwear. He took an armful of
clothes and carried them outside and began to fill the backseat of his car.

He’d brought some cardboard boxes with him and, clambering up the
stairs, started to pack his personal belongings, and then methodically searched
through his bookcase. He unplugged his hi-fi system and boxed up his records.
He felt no remorse; he needed to get this job done.

*       
*        *

Kathy drove into the yard; she had just taken the children to school
and had left Linzi struggling to move an electric fence.

She saw the old Volvo outside the house and hurried across to it. She
ran her hands along its bodywork and patted it with gratitude. She muttered,
‘He’s come. He’s come at last!’

On the front seat of the car was a bunch of flowers which she thought
must be for her, but in the back, she could see his clothes. Yes, he had come,
but with what purpose?

She walked into the kitchen to go upstairs, when David suddenly
appeared at the door carrying an armful of books. She looked at him and time
froze; images suspended in space, and she wanted to say a name, a man’s name,
but it wasn’t David’s. She wavered a moment and as they stared at one another,
she fell to the floor like a lump of stone.

David threw down his books and rushed to her, lifting her head and
calling her. ‘Oh no. . . . Oh no. . . . Mum, please.’ He gently patted her
cheek, then her hands, as he pulled her close to him. He crouched to the floor
with her huddled in his arms as he tightly held on to her.

Linzi came into the kitchen and seeing her mother on the floor, ran
across. ‘Oh, for goodness sake David, what have you done to her now?’

David stuttered some words. ‘Nothing. . . . I’ve done nothing. She just
fainted. I think - I hope.’

Kathy started to come round and as her head thumped so hard, she
squinted as she tried to open her eyes.

‘Linzi. . . . Hurry. Get her a glass of water. Are you okay, Mum?’
David softly spoke. ‘Try -try to stand.’

He helped her to her feet and, for the first time in months, Kathy
looked closely at her son. ‘I’m sorry. . . . I’m so sorry, Davey. I thought you
were someone else.’

Linzi looked at her brother, bewildered.

David led his mother to the parlour and sat her on the sofa. Kneeling
beside her, he held a glass of water in one hand and supported her shoulder
with the other. ‘Please drink it. I’m sorry I gave you a shock.’

Kathy continued to stare at David. She had wished and prayed for this
moment for so long. There was so much to say to him: the reasons why she’d done
things the way she had, desperately wanting to apologise and accept full
responsibility for her actions. She gently stroked his cheek; his bold forehead
now exposed, and then she rubbed his short cropped hair. ‘You just look so
different, you gave me a shock.’

She didn’t want to tell him how thin he looked. Linzi had warned her,
but the scale of it was unexpected. Neither had she seen him with his hair so
short in years, not since he was a little boy. His skin looked paler, yet his
eyes were clear and blue. He appeared to be calm.

‘Linzi. . . . Please leave us alone love, for just a few minutes,’
Kathy begged.

Linzi hesitated. She wanted to hear David explain his way out of this
one, and to know why they’d argued in the first place. She too had many
unanswered questions. But after another purposeful glance from her mother, she
left them alone and reluctantly closed the parlour door behind her.

This wasn’t what David wanted, he didn’t want to speak to his mother,
in fact he couldn’t.

‘I’m just relieved you’re safe and well, son. Everything that’s
happened between us is all my fault,’ she looked him in the eyes. ‘I don’t want
you to bear any remorse. I’m sorry, Davey, for the way I’ve treated you. I
never intended things to be like this.’

David couldn’t stand to hear anymore of her apology. He didn’t want to
have to wrestle with more turmoil, and was afraid he might lose the grip on the
freedom he had and the prospect of some happiness at last. So he stood up and
walked away from her and went across to the fireplace; crouching over the
hearth, he took some matches and lit the dry sticks and paper.

Kathy started again, but David interrupted her. He stood and looked,
not directly at her, but through the mirror. ‘Don’t - don’t say anymore. . . .
I know you’re sorry, and so am I. . . . I’ve just come back for a few things,
that’s all.’

His cold words hurt.

‘I only wanted to explain, Davey.’

‘I don’t think I can take any explanations just now,’ he turned to her
again. ‘You can’t know how hurt I’ve felt. . . . Almost to the point of feeling
betrayed and disowned. I’ve got to build my life again and I’m slowly doing
that. Please be patient with me. But there’s just one thing I feel I owe you
though - and that’s about Joanne.’

Kathy took a gasp of air as she waited for his comment.

‘You were probably right to tell me I would be a fool to marry Jo,
maybe I was, I don’t know. I just wanted to do the right thing.’

‘And what have you done?’

‘Nothing. . . . Absolutely nothing. She doesn’t want me anymore,’ and
he turned his head and finally looked at her. ‘And that suits me, I suppose. I
just felt I ought to tell you, so you needn’t worry anymore on that score.’

David waited and wondered if she would reveal any knowledge of Joanne’s
relationship with her late husband, but she didn’t, so he continued. ‘I just
had to tell you that’s all,’ he repeated and shook his head.

‘I’m sorry if I seemed over protective,’ she softened again. ‘I didn’t
want you to end up in an unhappy marriage, and all for the wrong reasons. For
that, I can speak from experience.’

David didn’t want to hear anymore and now wanted to go. ‘You’ll manage
won’t you? Tell Tom and Sarah I’ll come and see them soon.’ And he opened the
door and left the room.

‘David. . . .’ she tried to call him back. ‘If you ever feel you do
want to ask me anything, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.’

He stopped at the door, his back still to her and paused, then
continued to gather up the last of his belongings.

Linzi, from the viewpoint of her bedroom window, saw her brother leave.
She rushed back downstairs where her mother was at the kitchen sink reluctantly
preparing lunch. ‘Where’s he gone now?’

‘He’s gone back to Betty’s. . . . He won’t come back now.’ Her eyes
were full of tears.

‘Why didn’t you stop him?’

‘How could I. . . . He’s twenty-four in a few weeks time, he’s a grown
man, how could I stop him. He must do as he likes.’ Kathy was flushed and
dabbed the tears away from her cheeks with a paper tissue.

‘He can’t just leave us, Mum!’

‘Oh, yes he can, love. Why should he stay? We never stopped you from
leaving and going to college and you didn’t have to come back this time.’

‘It’s different for me though, isn’t it?’

‘Why. . . . Why should it be any different?’

Linzi was choking on her words. ‘Because he’s the eldest. He’s your
son.’

‘Yes, he is my son, and that’s why, for once in his life, I’m going to
let him do what he wants. He’s given most of his life to this farm. He’s done
his bit and now it’s up to us.’

Linzi restrained herself from banging her fist on the kitchen table.
‘Oh why did Dad have to be so stupid and leave David out of his will? I just
can’t understand it.’

‘Linzi, you should know by now that you’ll never understand anything
your father did.’

‘I think he was jealous of David. You were always fussing around him. .
. . No wonder he hated him.’

Kathy didn’t want any more of this; Linzi was getting far too close to
the truth. ‘Stop it, stop it now . . . ! Your father didn’t hate David. Don’t
you see he was punishing me. It was me he hated; it was his way of getting at
me.’