A Dinner Of Herbs (86 page)

I’ve finished next door. You’ll see to the rest? “

“Yes, yes, I’ll see to it.” Then advancing two steps into the byres, John looked towards Maggie, saying,

“If he should come to you to be cleaned up, don’t take him into the house whatever time it is, because

you know how Dad feels. You could take him along to Willy’s. Could she, Willy?”

“Yes, Yes, of course. Don’t worry, if he turns up we’ll see to him.”

“Right then.” John turned and went out.

Looking towards the door now, Maggie said quietly, “Hate’s a deadly thing, isn’t it? Eats its way

through everything. Frag’s been aware of hate since he could be aware of anything. It’s made him like

he is. Is it any wonder he makes for the drovers? They say he must be educated.”

She turned her head sharply now towards Willy, adding, “Education can be as harmful as it can be

beneficial. You’ve got to be a very strong willed person to remain the same after

education has been

thumped into you.”

At this she bent towards the full pails of milk, and when he said, “Leave them, I’ll take them,” she

answered sharply, “No, I can manage.

You’ll have enough to see to. “ And lifting the pails, she walked erratically down the byres, and when he

hurried before her and opened the door for her she did not look at him or thank him, and his head

drooped for a moment before he turned back into the byres and, taking up a switch brush, attacked the

muck in the channel.

It was around eight o’clock when John rode back into the yard. As he dismounted Maggie came to the

kitchen door. She had a lantern in her hand and she held it high as she went towards him.

“Did you find out anything?” she said.

“Aye, and one thing certain, he’s not with the drovers, nor has he been. There’s one lot outside Hexham,

and another beyond Corbridge. I spoke to them both.”

“They could have been hiding him.”

“No, no. They were decent fellows, and they both promised to send him packing if he

turned up in the

morning. Where are they?” He inclined his head towards the house, and Maggie replied,

“In the office.”

She moved nearer to him.

“What do you think? That man, Kate’s father, is due to come tomorrow.”

“What!”

“Mam had a letter from him.”

“What for? Why does he want to come here now?”

“She said he didn’t say. He’s wanting to ask something of her, that’s all I could get out of her. Dad’s a

bit up in the air.”

“Aye, yes, I suppose he would be. There was a rumpus on his last visit as I recall, but that’s many years

ago. Well, well.” He took the horse’s bridle now and as he led it forward he remarked.

“Who says nothing happens in the country.” Then he asked, “Is Willy finished?”

“He was in the tack room a little while ago when I took him a bite.”

Her voice was curt, and she turned and went back into the house.

John was unsaddling the animal when Willy came in, saying, “You didn’t find him

then?”

“No. But I know one thing, Willy, that’s the last time I go traipsing round after him. The way I see it,

he’s big enough now to know his own mind. If he wants to travel the road, I say let him, or put him to

work on a job that will make him feel so damned tired all he’ll want is bed. If I had him here I would see

that was carried out all right.. You finished?”

“Aye, so leave him and I’ll do him down.”

“No. No. I’ve been sitting on me backside for the last three hours or more. I want to

move, and

you’ve had more than enough for one day, I should think. So get yourself along and put your feet up.

Half-past four will be round afore you know where you are.”

Willy did not stop to argue the point; turning about, he said, “Good night, then.”

“Good-night, Willy.”

Out in the yard, Willy raised his eyes towards the sky. The moon was up, three-quarters of the yard

was in deep shadow and in it stood the house. The only light showing through the

darkness was from the

kitchen window. He stood for a moment watching the figure passing backwards and

forwards in the

lamplight; then he turned away and walked the length of the yard, past the old barn, and the bigger newly

built one with its store sheds attached, down by a dry stone wall that bordered the

vegetable garden, then

turned to the left past the hen crees and through a gate into a small paddock at the far side of which

stood his cottage.

The cottage consisted of two rooms and a loft, which at one time had housed a family of seven, and

almost every time he entered it he wondered how they had fitted in, for the living room was but twelve

feet square and the bedroom less than that. Over the past four years he had made the

place comfortable

and suited to his needs, although this entailed its becoming smaller still, for in the main room he had made

racks for his books, and in the bedroom wall cupboards to hold his clothes. His furniture was simple, a

small wooden square table, a single wooden chair, and one other with a high slatted back.

To the left of

the fireplace was a cupboard where he kept food for odd meals;

and to the right of it, a rack that held kitchen utensils. Beyond this was a narrow door leading into a

stone pantry. Outside the cottage stood two narrow rough stone erections. One was a

coal-house, the

other a bucket water-closet.

Before leaving the cottage in the morning, he always banked down his fire, then saw to it again at dinner

time, and when he returned at night a blow with the bellows brought it into life again. But tonight he was

some distance from the door when he saw a glow of firelight in the window, and he

paused, then walked

slowly forward.

Opening the door, he went in and looked at the figure sitting on the mat before the fire and, as if he had

expected

to find him there, he said, “Hello. See you’ve got it going for me.”

Fraser Hamilton rose slowly to his feet. He was as tall as Willy, and in the firelight he could have been

mistaken for a grown man. His hair was jet black and hung thickly about his ears. His

eyes seemed to

be of the same hue, their darkness emphasized by the paleness of his skin. His face was long and his

mouth, in this light, appeared to be a slit in it. It was an unusual face, handsome, but not that of a youth.

Often young boys of his age, if their features could be described as beautiful, would

possess some

quality appertaining to refinement, even when the spots of youth attacked the skin they emphasized rather

than denied youth, but in Fraser’s case his good looks gave off no such impression, for the rash on his

chin was what one would expect to see on that of a grown man.

“Been at it again, now, have you?” Willy threw off his coat and went over to the

cupboard on which

stood a candlestick, and having lit the candle, brought it to the table before he spoke again. Looking the

boy up and down, he said quietly, “By! you are in a mess. Where did you sleep last

night?”

“In a haystack, after I fell in the mire.”

“You asking’ for your death?”

“Wouldn’t matter.”

“Don’t talk rubbish. What brought it on this time?”

This. “The boy pointed to his chin.

“I was growing hair. Bradshaw, the headmaster said, get it off. He gave me a brush and an old razor

which was blunt. From then I got the spots. And then’—he put his hand to his hair ‘he

ordered that my

hair be cut off, close-cropped.”

“Why? Had it got dirty?”

“No. I was apparently paying too much attention to it, keeping it too clean. It happened to two other

fellows. They looked like scarecrows.

I wasn’t havin’ it. “

“I can see your point.”

“Willy’—the boy suddenly sat down on the high backed chair—” I’m not going back. If

Father

attempts to force me again through reason or any other damn thing, I’ll take a ship. I won’t need to be

press-ganged. “

“Don’t be daft. You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve had it

soft for years. That life would finish you.”

“I’m not soft, Willy. I’m hard underneath. I’m hard. I’ve slept out in the open with the drovers for

years. You know I have.”

“Because most of them are decent fellows, lookin’ after you and hap ping you up. But

you get on board

one of those ships and you won’t be happed up, I can tell you, but the skin’ll be flayed off you. We had

a crippled sailor came back on the estate a few years ago, he had hardly an inch of his skin that wasn’t

scarred and he was only discharged because he could no longer run or jump at the sound of a voice or

the end of a whip. He’d only half a foot, and I won’t tell you how he came by that. So get that idea out

of your head. Anyway, get those things off and see if we can get them cleaned up. Have you had

anything to eat?”

The boy nodded towards the cupboard, saying, “I took some of your bread and bacon.”

“You’re welcome. Well, let me get this pan on the fire and we’ll have some hot gruel.

But come on,

strip off, the mud looks dry; I’ll brush them down. But you can’t go home like that.”

When the boy took off his coat that had been buttoned to the neck, Willy gazed at him for a moment,

saying, “You’ve got nothin’ underneath. How’s that?”

“I... I was put in a detention room because of this.” He tapped his head.

“They always take away your small clothes. There’s not much warmth in serge. They call it cooling your

capers.”

“My God! And your father pays through the teeth for that. Surely there are better schools in

Newcastle?”

“Yes, there are, but this one was chosen for its strong discipline, I understand.”

“Brutality would be a better word. Come in here.” Willy picked up the candle and led the way into the

bedroom, and, setting it down on top of a chest, he opened the cupboard door and took

from one of the

shelves a shirt and woollen drawers and vest, saying, “Put them on.”

But before getting into the clothes the boy handled them, saying, “Tis fine wool.”

“Yes, and so it should be, for these belonged to my old master. He saw me well supplied in this way

over the years. There were cupboards full of such, lining the bedrooms. They had

belonged to his

relative who died. They must have both been about the same size and the only difference in stature

between them and me was that their legs were slightly shorter. I’ve been well suited for years, inside and

out.”

“I used to wonder when I saw you dressed in the market, not like our herdsmen.”

“So now you need wonder no longer.” He looked at the boy, smiling now as he said,

They’re a bit big,

but they’ll be warm. And here, put this lined waistcoat on. The nights are chilly and

we’ve got a longish

walk afore us. “

“You’re coming home with me?”

“Aye, in case you stray again.”

“I’d rather stay here till the morning. I could sleep on the mat.”

“You’ll do no such thing. Your mother’s half demented as usual. You’re a thoughtless

lad, you know.”

“I’m not. I’m not really, but ... but I’m always being told what I must do and what I

mustn’t do.”

“But you’ve been on the run since you were a nipper. You know you have.”

Fraser turned away and went into the other room, saying, “I can’t help that. Something comes over me.

I just must up and go. I... I want things to happen. “ He turned round now and faced

Willy.

“Can you understand that? I want things to happen.”

“Adventures like?”

“Yes and no. I can’t explain. I.. well, there’s only one thing I do know, I don’t want to be like other

people, all those around following their humdrum everyday existence How do you stand

it? You’re well

read. Everybody says you’re well-read. Superior in a way Mother says that so how do

you stand it? I

don’t know how you can put up with this kind of life, working like a slave all day for my grandfather.

And yet you go on. Why? Why?”

“Because it’s my nature, I suppose: I like workin’ with animals; I like the open air; I also like time to me

self to read and think.

Strangely, you have a lot of time to yourself when you deal with animals, time in which to think. It all

depends upon how one’s made, one’s nature. “

“Well, I’m not made like that, I suppose.”

“You don’t know, you’ve never given yourself a chance. Anyway, come on, let’s get that mouthful of

gruel and be on our way, because I want to get to bed sometime afore midnight.”

“I can go by myself.”

“You’re not goin’ by yourself, because what would you do when you got there, go and

sleep in the barn

until the morrow mornin’?” . It was just a half-hour later when they left the cottage. The air was sharp

and the moon bright, and they walked briskly, yet it was another good hour before Willy pulled the bell

to the side of the door at Rooklands Farm. Fraser had wanted to go in by the kitchen way, but Willy

had said, “And let the cook and maids know you are here afore your mother?”

When the door was opened, a maid stood there, the lamp held high in her hand, and she

peered through

the light for a moment at the two dark figures; then she let out a thin high squeal, crying,

“Eeh!

Master Fraser. “ And the boy, pushing past her, mimicked her: “ Eeh!

Annie Pollock. “

It was as if his voice had thrust open two doors, one at each side of the hall, for Kate came hurrying