A Dinner Of Herbs (2 page)

“As a lad, aye. It was a Sunday game. An’ we used to make little caves to hide in. It was a grand

place to play in. Now you can scarcely see the bottom of it for brushwood. Come, let’s be going.”

They continued their way, leaving the quarry behind them. At one point Peter Greenbank stopped and,

looking down at the track, remarked, “Well, it’s still used. In fact, by the look of it, more so than in my

day.”

The track led to a roadway, beyond which the land dropped into a small green valley, and there, sunk,

as if in the bottom of it, was a cottage. It was square, having a small window at each side of a door, and

underneath deep eaves another window that glinted brightly in the after noon sun. The

cottage was

situated in what looked like an overgrown garden, and to the side ran a small burn that was little wider

than a drain in parts.

“Is that it Da, Mrs.... Mrs. Makepeace’s house?”

“Yes, that’s it, and it’s the one thing about here that hasn’t changed with the years. But I hope we find

...” But he did not finish the thought in his mind which said. Old Kate still surviving there.

How old was she when he left? Well, nearing sixty he would say. But no one knew her

real age, for

unlike other women, as she was in all ways, she refused to wear a bonnet or a cape such as denoted age.

They went rapidly down the slope to where the land levelled out, then through a gate and up a rough

uneven stone path and to the front door, which Peter had noted was closed when he had

stood surveying

the cottage from the hill, but was now open. Yet there seemed to be no one about, and so he put out his

hand and, leaning forward, knocked twice on the weathered oak, and waited before

poking his head

forward and calling, “Anybody at home by the name of Mrs. Kate Makepeace?”

Still there was no answer. But when he heard a door close, he spoke again, calling,

“Hello, there!”

From out of the deep shadow at the far end of the room stepped a woman. She was of

medium height

with a thickset figure. She wore a skirt and a blouse of blue cotton, which was open low at the neck

showing the skin at the top other drooping breasts as having the same dried wrinkled

appearance as that

on her face. Her hair was thin and drawn tightly back over her scalp. It wasn’t white, not even grey, but

was as dark as the shadow from which she had stepped. And now, her eyes moving into

slits, she

peered towards the two figures standing in the doorway and her mouth dropped open into a gape and

then closed again before she said, “In the name of God!” And Peter answered, “Aye, and He be blest

that I find you well.”

“Peter Greenbank.”

“The same, Kate, the same.”

She looked down.

“What’s this? Your boy?”

“Aye, my boy, my son, six months off being eight.”

“Well, well. I knew it was a strange day, when I rose this mornin’. I knew it was to be a strange day,

and it wasn’t the heat. Come in, come in; what are you standin’ there for? Surprises never surprise me,

but this is different. I ... I thought you must be dead; I’d heard no word of you. That you were married,

aye, but that was a long time ago.

Newcastle is a long way off and South Shields further. She was from there, the rumour

said. “

“Aye, she was from there.”

“Where is she now?”

He bowed his head and sat down on the stiff wooden chair by the side of the open hearth in which a fire

blazed, and this a very hot day, before he said, “I hope she’s with those she believed in, her people, if not

the angels.”

After a pause, the old woman said, “God rest her soul... When?”

“Oh, six months gone.”

“Six months! And the laddie?”

“Left to God and good neighbours, and from what I saw of some of them, not so good.

That’s why I’m

here.”

“Oh, that’s why you’re here. Ah well, whatever’s brought you I’m pleased to see you,

Peter. I never

thought though to see you again, for the sea’s a treacherous mistress. But away with

thoughts and down

to the needs of the belly. Have you eaten?”

“We had a decent bite in Hexham, but that’s some hours ago, and a nibble in Haydon

Bridge, but it’s a

drink we’re both needin’, I think.” He glanced at his son and added, “Eh?” And the boy said, “Yes,

Da.”

“Hip drink. He’d like my hip syrup.”

“He couldn’t but help.”

“And you? I have a herb beer an’ a ginger, but better still, a sloe wine. I keep that for best like, for an

occasion, and I haven’t had an occasion for a long, long time, so why not now. Sloe wine it’ll be, Peter.”

“Indeed, indeed, I can’t wait.”

She smiled, a skin-stretching smile; then her head lowering, she passed her glance over the boy before

turning away and shambling up the room, which was much bigger than could be gauged

from outside.

When she disappeared through a far door the boy looked up at his father, and he, pulling a face,

whispered, “There now, that’s Mrs. Makepeace. What d’you think?”

“She’s’—the boy hesitated ‘all right... nice I think, but but

Peter’s head came lower, until his eyes were looking into the boy’s, and they were merry as he added,

“Frightening, gives you a gliff.” And to this the boy responded immediately, grinning

now, saying, “Aye,

Da, a gliff.”

“She’s a good woman, wise and brave.” Peter’s face was straight now, and the boy,

sensing something

behind the words, let the grin slide away and he nodded his head as if he understood.

Within a minute the old woman was back in the room carrying a mug in each hand, one

smaller than the

other, and it was the latter that she handed to Peter, saying, “A little of that, I tell you, will go a long way.

It was put down well afore you left.”

“Then it should have a kick in it.”

“Aye, it has. It’ll measure that of an unbroken pit pony any day. I can promise you.”

The father and the son now sipped at their mugs. Then;

the boy, blinking, looked up at the strange woman and, smiling, said, “Tis nice.”

“Yes, ‘tis nice,” she repeated.

“I’ve never heard different about that. And what d’you think?” She looked at Peter, and he, drawing a

deep breath, said on a laugh, “If I’d had a drop of this when my fingers were stuck to the rails with ice,

I’d have been free in a flash. Tis mighty powerful and almost as clear as water.”

“Well now’—she sat down opposite to them ‘tell me what’s happened you this many a

day, then I will

get you something to eat. You’re stayin’, I hope?” There was a sharp enquiry in her

voice, and he said,

“Overnight, and perhaps for a day, if you’ll have us.”

“As short as that?”

He glanced at the boy, then said, “For me anyway. I want a crack with you, Kate.” Again his eyes

slanted towards the boy, and she nodded and said, “Aye, well, aye, but go on.”

“Well, what is there to tell? Sweat and hard tack and’—he gritted his teeth for a moment’

cruelty the

like you never saw of.”

“Well, I’ve seen a bit, you know that.”

“Aye, I do. But this kind was different in some way, Kate:

men reduced to jangling pieces of raw flesh. Oh. “ He screwed up his eyes tight and

jerked his head.

“Then why do you stay?” she said.

“Can’t tell really, Kate.”

“You wouldn’t think about takin’ up here again?”

“In the pit or the mill? No! No, never again. There’s one thing you get on the sea if

nothing else, fresh

air, at least when you’re up top, an’ light. Two things I should have said. But... but life will be a little

different from now on;

I’ve left the old tub an’ next week I’m joinin’ a ship that does the Norwegian run, She’ll only have

another two or so to do afore storms and the ice shuts up the sea, and then for the winter I’ll get a job on

shore. In any case I’ve enough on me to see me through those months, work or no work;

I’ve been

sparing over the years with me self

So what I’ve come for, Kate’—he cast a glance towards the boy’ is this one here. You

see, when I got

back to me house, which was a decent enough place when I left, three rooms it had and

away from the

waterfront. but not far enough for the swabs to move in, once he was left on his own. A neighbour took

care of him. That’s how she put it.

She moved her squad in, and he was running wild with them, hardly a rag to his back, an’

lice-ridden.

You never saw the like. I’ve never used me boot in me life afore. They won’t come near that door for a

time. It’s me own house, you know, I own it. Well, through Betsy. It was there I went to lodge with her

mother after I left here. Her father had been captain of a coaster and buyin’ the house had been the

result of his labours.

It’s worth one hundred and twenty pounds, if a penny, that’s when I get it cleaned up, and then I’ll sell it

or let it out for rent. It’ll be according to what the solicitor man advises me, ‘cos the deeds are with him.

I saw him yesterday. Have you ever been in front of a lawyer, Kate? Stiff they are. He was polite

enough, but stiff. But that’s the way of ‘em. Anyway, I told him I was comin’ out here to you and gave

him the address of the cottage. “

“What if I’d been dead?”

“Huh! Well, Kate, I thought of that, but then I thought, well there’s Bill Lee, he’ll surely still be there, for

he was just married when I left. And with his mother still in Allendale, he wouldn’t want to move. And

her, I mean Jane coming from Haydon Bridge, well, you know what families are when

they think you are

going to shift away. Anyway, I counted on that and I left Bill’s cottage name with him an’ all. But is he

still there?”

“Oh, yes, aye, he’s still there. An’ he’s made a fine job of that shanty. Built on two rooms he has and a

stable for the pony. And that not alone, he’s been granted four stints.”

“Four stints!”

“Aye. Oh, there’s been lots of changes since you left, you wouldn’t believe. You

remember some of the

types that worked alongside of you in the smelting mills? Aye, and the mine. Drunks,

almost to a man.

Well, the place called the Greenwich Hospital got an idea into their heads that would cut out on their

drinkin’, which drinkin’ made them late for their work and their heads buzzing so much they weren’t up

to it when they got there. And so, what did they do? My, you wouldn’t believe, they’ve built them fine

cottages and allotted each of them so many stints, and with each stint they are allowed to keep a cow

and chickens or a few pigs or sheep an’ such like, according you know to the size. “

“Well, well! that Greenwich Hospital lot have a head on their shoulders. I knew it when I was workin’

there, the things they did. Mr. Fawcett represented them then. He was the mill bailiff, a straight man,

honest, as honest as any one in a high position can be. Is he still there?”

“Oh, William Fawcett is still there; but Mulcaster seems to be the man now, so I

understand, and Mr.

Wardle bailiff to the mine. But tell me, I’ve never been able to get it into this stupid head of mine, is this

hospital a real place for the sick or what?”

“No, no, Kate, it’s a kind of... well, I’m not quite sure, but it’s like a concern, a company, like a

shipping company I should imagine or a coal owner, but bigger, aye, oh bigger, because they buy up

estates.

“Twas they who bought up the whole Barony of Langley from one end to the other, you

know. No, no,

they are not that kind of a hospital, but what they really are I couldn’t put me finger on except as to what

I’ve said.”

During all this talk the boy had sat gazing at them while sipping at his drink. Then after he had placed the

mug down onto the floor to the side of him, he leant his head against the high wooden

back of the chair

and went peacefully to sleep.

They both became aware of this at the same time and they looked at him a moment or so

before Kate

said, “He’s a bonny enough lad; takes after you when you were that age. What was his

mother like?

Has he any other features?”

“She was a good lass, a bit on the religious side, but open like with it, not narrow. Took after her father

in that way. And she was pure.”

“Huh!” Kate gave a wheezy laugh.

“Pure. You would go after a pure one, wouldn’t you? Did you ever think of Nell Feeler?”

“No, no, I never did.”

“Well, I thought it was as much to get rid of her as your hankerin’ for the sea that took you off.”

“Maybe, but there were tother things, you know.”

They looked at each other hard before she said softly, “Aye, I know.”

Then as if desiring to change the subject, she said, “I don’t think she ever forgave you ...

Nell. She had

a baim after.”

“What?”

“I said... well, you heard me, she had a hairn about eight months after you were gone.”

“In the name of God! Kate, what are you sayinT “ I’m not sayin’ anything, only stating a fact. She

married Arthur Poulter, an’ quick. He was another one of Bannaman’s men. But the child came seven

months after the wedding. Still, it might have been early. “

“Aw, Kate.”

“Don’t keep sayin’. Aw, Kate, like that as if you were a monk out of a monastery.” She laughed now,

and after a moment he said, “Bannaman.

What’s he doing now? “

At this the old woman got up and going to a black oak cupboard opposite the fireplace