A Dinner Of Herbs (77 page)

At this Florrie turned sadly away, saying, “Eat something,” then the door closed quietly behind her.

Kate didn’t eat anything, but she drank another cup of tea, then got into her outdoor

things, right to her

bonnet and scarf, and lastly she tucked up the band of her skirt three times, bringing the hem up to her

calfs. This was, in case her father didn’t let her have the loan of a horse, she would have to walk it. In

any case, it would be heavy going for the horse, and she couldn’t ask for the trap to take her baggage for

that would never get through the lanes in this. So she would leave it till later, with the exception of the

bag which held her night clothes. That would be all she would be able to manage.

So thinking, she picked up the bag and went downstairs.

She was trembling as she entered the kitchen but was

relieved to see that there were only her mother and Annie present, and they both stared at her. Mary

Ellen was the first to speak.

“You can’t go, lass,” she said; ‘not in this. “

“I’ve got to, Mam. There’s no use waiting. As soon as it clears I’ll send for my things.”

Mary Ellen came and stood before her, her voice quiet now as she said, “Lass, don’t you understand

he’ll never let you go to him.”

“He can’t stop me, Mam, unless he shoots me or him.”

“Don’t say that lightly, lass, because I wouldn’t put that past him either, for you have no idea how that

man feels about the Bannamans, and rightly I’d say, he’s got a cause. And all right, all right’—she held

up her hand “ I know it’s a pity that the sins of the fathers . and the mothers are visited on the children,

but ‘tis true, as is also, what’s bred in the bone comes out in the blood. “

“You an’ all, Mam?”

“I can’t help it, lass, because I’ve seen more than you.”

When Kate sighed, Mary Ellen, with a break in her voice, said, “Don’t you know you’re

breakin’ up this

family, lass? What followed after Peg and Walter went will be nothing to what’ll happen after you go to

that fellow.” As she spoke, the kitchen door opened and there was a sound of banging of feet against the

wall before John came into the room.

Pulling off his cap, he dusted himself down, then wiped the snowflakes from his face

before looking at

Kate and saying quietly, “You’ll have to hold your hand a minute, Kate.”

It was Mary Ellen who asked, “What d’you mean, she’s got to hold her hand?”

“He’s gone. Dad’s gone out.”

“What!” They all three stared at him, and he said quietly, “Now there’s nothing more that can be done

just yet.” And looking at Kate directly, he added, “He gave me a message for you, Kate.

He said, to

stay put until he came back.”

“How did he go?” Mary Ellen’s hands were gripped tightly together now, and he

answered her, “On

horseback of course, how else?”

“You know what I mean. Did he take anything with him? A ... a..?”

“No, Mam, he didn’t take a gun.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Mam. I went and I saw to that. They’re all there.”

Slowly now, Mary Ellen sat down on a chair near the table, and Annie tapped her twice

on the shoulder

before looking at John and saying, “You’d like a cup?”

“Yes, please, Annie. Yes, please. It’s bitter out.” Then he turned to Kate as she was

pulling on her

gloves and he said, “Now, now. He left that message precisely for you. You are to stay until....”

“I’m not staying, John. If he’s gone along there, only God knows what will happen when they meet.”

“Well, I should think that Ben could hold his own if it comes to blows.”

“Ben would never raise his hand to him.”

“Not perhaps with the first blow, but there’s few of us who can turn the other cheek. Now the only

thing we can do is to sit tight and wait. He should be back within three hours even if the going’s hard.

That’s giving him time to have his say as well. “

“That’s if he can get through at all.”

He looked towards Annie now, saying, “Aye, you’re right, Annie. I shouldn’t be

surprised if he turns

round and comes back. So as I said, have patience.” He was looking directly at Kate

again.

“But one way or the other he’ll have his say, and after that it’ll be up to you, Kate.

You know what you want to do. “

“I know what I want to do now, John.”

“Aye. Aye, you do, Kate.” He turned from her and went slowly out. And they all three

noticed that he

hadn’t drunk his tea.

In the yard, John hurried across to the cow byres and as he thrust the door open the tallow candles

stuck on the wooden shelf splattered, and he banged the door closed and lay against it for a moment,

looking towards his brother who had stopped brushing the swill into the

central gutter.

“Well?” Tom said, and he answered, “I told her, but she’ll go, reason or none. But what I’m worried

about at the moment is him. God knows what will happen when they meet up.”

“Do you think you should go after him?”

“I’d given it a thought, but I don’t know exactly where he’d be making for if....”

“Well, there’s only one place and that’s the farm. That’s if he gets there. He’ll never attempt to go up

into the hills. It would be useless.”

“Aye, aye.” John nodded.

“But in the mood he’s in, he’ll see nothing as useless until he confronts him.”

“Well, I can’t imagine Ben being up in that hut in this. His own sense would bring him down to the farm,

especially now that he knows he can hide behind his name no longer. Eeh! Our Maggie’s

caused

something, hasn’t she?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It was bound to come out sooner or later, and I think Ben wanted it that way an’

all. He’s a decent fellow, Tom.”

“Aye, I think along of you, he’s a decent enough fellow, but then we’re seeing him

through a different

pane of glass. We didn’t have to go through what Dad had to go through. And that kind

of thing helps

your memory to last out.”

John. sighed now and said, “Aye well, there’s nothing more we can do for the moment.

So let’s get on

with it. Somebody has to do it. But at this minute I wish I was miles away.”

Hal had brought the horse to the outskirts of the farm with very little trouble, for the wind in many places

had swept the track bare and there were only the usual potholes now filled with snow to contend with.

Once he had to get off his horse and drag it through a drift;

but over the years this had frequently happened.

Having dismounted again, he stood at the farm gate

looking towards the yard. It was a smooth white mat which, he thought, pointed out

plainly that the man

he was seeking hadn’t made a move outside the house as yet. He forced open the gate

against the

barrier of snow, led the horse in, then tied it with the reins to the central post of the gate, and as he did so

the animal threw up its head in answer to a muffled neigh coming from the direction of the stables.

After saying, “Steady there. Steady there,” he patted the animal’s neck, then walked

slowly towards the

front of the house. And as he did so the memories of the past came flooding back to him, and it was as if

it were only yesterday he was looking at Mary Bannaman hurrying back to the trap, then returning with

the gun in her hand. And the bitterness deepened in him knowing that her son was in

there, no doubt

awaiting Kate’s coming. Well, he would wait a long time, because he would sooner see

her dead than

being touched by a Bannaman in any way.

And no matter how firm she had been in saying she would go to him, in the long run he

had faith in her

common sense and loyalty and her particular affection for himself.

There was an iron bell-pull to the side of the door and after he had dragged it downwards he stood

listening to the muffled rattle beyond.

But when it brought no response in the form of the man he was seeking, he took his fist and banged it

hard on the panel. When still there was no response, he turned from the door and made

his way round

the side of the house. And as he entered the courtyard the muscles of his stomach seemed to go into

knots, for his eyes were drawn to the door of the barn, the place wherein, as he put it to himself, he had

suffered a crucifixion.

When he reached the back door he banged on this and when there was still no response,

he put his hand

to the latch in order to rattle it.

But when surprisingly the door opened slowly under his grip, he stood back from it for a moment before,

thrusting out his arm, he pushed it wide, then stepped inside.

He was in the kitchen. His eyes immediately went to the fireplace where the grey ash told him that there

had been no one near that for some hours. Slowly he walked up the kitchen, his eyes

darting from left to

right as if expecting at any moment someone to spring out on him. And when he reached

the far door he

opened his mouth and yelled, “If you’re in here, show yourself.” The thought entered his mind for a

moment that the fellow was afraid to meet him. Yet, he dismissed that.

When he entered the hall he stood gazing about him. It was devoid of furniture, but he could see it had

been freshly decorated. Even so, he remembered it as it once was, and also the situation of the room

where he and others had confronted Bannaman himself. He did not go towards that door

but stood at

the foot of the stairs, yelling again, “Are you up there? Show yourself!”

Having thrust open the door of the sitting-room he then had to force himself to enter, and again his eyes

went to the fireplace that showed the remains of a dead fire. But drawn up at right angles to it was a

couch and on it, folded neatly, were three rugs. The room also held several pieces of

furniture in the form

of bureaux and bookcases and small tables. These were the pieces that were supposed to be stored

here.

Strangely he did not turn about and leave the room but backed down it, again as if

expecting some form

to spring on him. But once in the hall, he hurried through it and into the kitchen, and out into the yard.

And there he stood blinking against the snowflakes that were coming down more thickly

now.

Where was he? Up in that hut skulking? Again his mind rejected the supposition. But

there was one

thing certain, he hadn’t gone into any of the towns or else his horse wouldn’t be over there neighing its

head off.

He went towards the stables now and opened the half-door from where the sound was

coming, and

when the animal thrust its head at him, he pushed it to the side, saying, “Let up. Let up.”

He could see

that it had hay, but the water bucket was almost empty, suggesting it hadn’t been seen to since yesterday.

He closed the door on the thrusting head, then walked towards where his own horse was

tethered. He

did not mount up but went to the gate and looked towards the hills. If the snow kept up at this rate

nobody would get up there for a day or so and nobody would get down either.

Should he wait? And if he did, would Kate stay put? He was laying no stock on what she had said last

night about her going to him even should he himself be dead or alive. They had both said things in the

heat of the moment, yet he had meant every word he himself had said.

By God! Yes, he had. And thinking this, he made a decision.

Swinging about, he untied the horse and led it back into the yard and to the stable next to the occupied

one, and inside he tied it to a manger post in which there was some straw. And saying

now “Rest easy I

won’t be long,” he went out and closed the door, ignoring the sound of the animal kicking at the

stanchion.

He knew where the shepherd’s hut was and he knew the way to it; in fact, he knew every inch of these

hills, that was in his younger days and when they weren’t snow—covered.

He hadn’t got very far when a bout of coughing brought him to a standstill and with his back to the

driving snow. He told himself now he had to be careful. There was only one good thing: the further he

went up the clearer the track would be in parts, for the wind was sweeping the snow from the hillside.

But time and again the swirling of the snow like flour from the corn-mill almost blinded him.

When at last he could make out in the distance the smudge of the cottage, he stood for a moment, his

back again to the wind, his hands clutching the top of his coat as if to stop his chest from heaving. He felt

spent, but turning, he pushed on towards the cottage.

He was still some distance from it when he stopped and, wiping the snow from his

eyelashes and face,

he screwed up his eyes and peered through the swirling white mass at the man he had

come in search of

and who, as yet, was unaware of him, for he was pulling on a short rope, at the end of which was a goat.

It was when the goat decided to stop the tug of war and to come quietly that Ben almost fell on to his

back in the snow, and as he twisted around he could just make out the outline of the

huddled form

standing some yards away. For a moment he imagined it was Kate; then when he

straightened up and

saw who it was, his grip on the rope slackened, and the goat taking advantage of this, scampered away

towards the field, not knowing that the gate was closed and that it would have to make a long detour