Northern Spirit (11 page)

‘I could give you something to help you sleep.’

‘I don’t want to start relying on pills,’ David was dogmatic. ‘I’ll be
okay. Don’t worry about me.’ And he slapped a heavy stone down on top of the
wall.

‘Well, lay off the booze and the strong coffee then. Take some warm
baths before bedtime. Get yourself away from this place now and again, and
don’t be looking over your shoulder all the time.’

Michael shook David’s hand and as he returned to his car, he met Kathy
in the yard.

‘Have you seen him?’

‘Yes, we’ve had a little chat.’

‘And what did you think?’

‘Well, David’s tired. He wouldn’t accept any medication, but I’m sure
he’ll be all right. Let’s just keep an eye on him for a while. He’s a healthy
lad, so let’s settle with that for now shall we? He does need a break though.
Would that be possible?’

‘It might be, if he would take it. I’d have to get someone in to cover
for him, and this time of year no one wants to be in a cold milking parlour at
six o’clock in a morning.’

‘Would Alan Marsh do it?’

At this suggestion, Kathy flushed. ‘I don’t know. Let me think about
it?’

The doctor drove away slowly and carefully down the snow-covered road.
Kathy stood in the yard awhile watching him and thought of the dilemma she had,
wondering if Alan would help David instead of her.

*       
*        *

David continued with the walling, and thought what a decent man Michael
Reed was. He hadn’t wondered why he’d called and presumed he’d just come on the
off chance to see his mother. David continued to carefully select the right
stones to fit the damaged wall, brushing the wet snow off with his bare hands,
looking at the shape of the rocks, and fitting them together as pieces in a
jig-saw. And as time drew on, hunger pangs burnt in his stomach, so he packed
up his tools to go for lunch. As he wandered back, he saw more footprints had
compressed the snow on the lane.

Passing the style to the ghyll he looked up the fell and saw a few
walkers struggling up, as he thought he’d done last night. He stood watching
for a while then, looking down, noticed a set of prints isolated from the rest.
He crouched low for a closer inspection and wondered if these were the same
he’d seen last night. It was impossible to tell of course, but David felt
compelled to brush the prints away with his hands, as if to erase them from his
memory. Then, as if someone had switched on the light to his brain, he hurried
back to the farm, and couldn’t stop himself from shutting the gate behind him.
He walked into the warm kitchen without removing his boots, leaving the back
door wide open. ‘Have you been interfering? Did
you
ask the doctor to
come and see me?’

Kathy looked around to see David’s eyes glaring accusingly. She walked
closer to him and shut the door. ‘Oh, Davey . . . I can’t lie to you, love. I
did it for the best. I’ve been worried sick about you.’

‘Look, I’m sorry Mum, but I’ve told you before, don’t worry about me,
worry about yourself.’ David was angered at her admission, but he didn’t want
to argue with her.

He moved to the back door to remove his damp clothes and Kathy was glad
that he’d backed off. ‘Look Davey, you need a rest. Will you take a holiday or
something? Maybe I can get Alan in to help.’

‘I don’t particularly want Alan doing any more than need be. The cattle
don’t milk as well when he comes, and at the moment we need a few good cheques
coming in.’

‘I just thought if you could go away, perhaps with Tony, before the
spring starts – things will be hectic then.’

‘Oh yes, and where would I go?’ David’s mind was easing as he came and
slumped down at the kitchen table.

‘Well, I thought you could go to Blackpool. . . . You could have a couple
of good nights out. The change would do you good.’

David remembered some of the holidays he’d spent with Tony when they
were younger and they would get into all kinds of trouble, unbeknown to their
parents, so he paused and made another excuse. ‘I don’t think Tony could get
any more time off work.’

‘Just go for a long weekend then. You ask Tony and I’ll ask Alan.’

David didn’t look at his mother; he just got up to wash his hands.

*       
*        *

When Alan called in that evening, Kathy explained her new plan. Alan
was obviously disappointed, and thinking his idea had been snubbed, sat quietly
for some time sulking, before Kathy broke the silence.

‘Alan, it’s not rest I need, but peace. If I can see Davey well again
my whole mind will be at ease, and then I know I’ll feel much better.’

Alan wasn’t a parent, and found it hard to understand her reasoning,
yet gave his consent to do the extra work if David would agree. Kathy now had
to make certain that David would invite Tony, and she knew he wouldn’t mention
it if she didn’t, and hoped she could see Tony first herself.

Her wish was granted when he called that evening to see if David wanted
to go for a drink.

‘Would you two fancy a few days in Blackpool . . . ? My treat.’

David looked astonished.

‘I’ll book you into a nice B and B.’

Tony looked David in the eyes, excited that he could restore their
flagging friendship, and didn’t wait for a reply but said, ‘Then book it . . .
. Thank you.’

*       
*        *

That evening in the pub, Tony talked constantly of places they could go
and what they could do in Blackpool. But David wasn’t as enthusiastic, and sat
peering into his drink. ‘What can we do on a cold January weekend? It’ll be
miserable.’

‘We’ll go to a football match for a start. Man U are there soon for a
cup-tie. Then we’ll go to the Tower for a few drinks, and maybe they’ll have a
disco on later, and then on to a night-club. Pick up a couple of birds.’

‘If it makes you happy then I’ll go, but believe you me I don’t want
to. Drinks and football, yes! But definitely no women!’

*       
*       *

Later that night David went out to check the cattle before he went to
bed, and he saw a small figure standing by the tower. He saw immediately it was
Joanne.

‘What are you doing out this time of night?’ He walked slowly towards
her.

‘I’ve come to see you.’

David was hemmed in a corner. He didn’t want to be alone with her in
the dark, and the only means of light would be inside the tower.

Reaching into the gloomy corners of the old building, he fumbled for
the light-switch, and felt as if a cold hand was touching his warm heart. As he
struggled to find the light, he trembled, expecting someone would put their
hand on his. But the light came on and he was safe and, as he stood inside, he
could see Joanne clearly and was disturbed at her appearance. She looked thin
and drawn and had obviously been crying. He felt embarrassed at the situation
he’d got himself into. He knew he had to look after her, but he couldn’t touch
her, not any more.

‘You’ve been crying, Jo. What’s the matter?’

‘What’s the matter? Are you men stupid or something?’

‘I’m sorry; I don’t know what you mean. Has something happened at
home?’

‘Tony tells me that you two are going to Blackpool. How can you leave
me, Davey?’

This statement struck David hard in the face and he stuttered. ‘What do
you mean?’

‘What about us? You and me?’ she said.

‘Look, I didn’t realise . . . ’ and before he could say anymore, she
wrapped her arms around him and sobbed bitterly against his chest.

David was at a loss, he didn’t want to hold her again, but he couldn’t
bring himself to leave her. As Joanne clung to him, her hands pulling on his
jacket, he could only touch her shoulders with his fingertips, afraid any
response would be misconstrued. He knew he’d acted recklessly and cursed his
lack of judgement. ‘Come on, Jo. I’ll take you home. I’m sorry, this is all my
fault.’

David reluctantly put his arms across her shoulder and walked her down
the hill to the bungalow, steadying her from slipping on the frozen snow.

Joanne buried her head in his chest and, as they walked together in the
darkness, David knew after all, now, would be a very good time to get away. He
mustn’t let Joanne feel any longer that she had some claim on him, but he
couldn’t bring himself to tell her.

‘Joanne, listen,’ David softly pleaded. ‘We’re only going away for the
weekend, like we used to. When we get back we’ll all go out together again, the
three of us, like old times.’

‘I don’t want old times, Davey, I want new times!’ She pushed him away
and left him at the garden gate. Then as she stepped into the lamplight by the
porch, she turned and said, ‘I pray for us every night, Davey,’ and went
indoors.

David kicked the gatepost, muttered some indiscernible words, and
recalled his father saying: “
What do you know about women, Davey
?”
 And in this, David thought his father was right, as he realised he knew
nothing.

6

THE TOWER

They were just two faces in the crowd; a sea of tangerine and red.
Bodies were swaying backwards and forwards as they waved scarves and banners,
and all the more so as the tension in the game mounted.

To be in a football crowd after spending your life isolated on a farm
was difficult, claustrophobic even, but also exciting. Tony, more vocal than
David, joined in enthusiastically with the chanting; the noise at times was
unbearable.

They had stood on the Kop before and they knew what to expect; Tony had
said the atmosphere would be better. The man standing next to David had been
drinking and as David caught the smell of his stinking breath, it nauseated
him.

They started by leaning on the blue rails for support but each time the
crowd surged forward it crushed them against the metal bars. As the crowd
receded, they dodged underneath the rails, but with no support at all, found themselves
being jostled around even more. Tony was amused, like it was a game, as several
times he became separated from David. The drunken man next to David had what
appeared to be his son with him. The boy must have only been about eight or
nine and looked vulnerable in the huge crowd, but the man was unconcerned.
David wanted to help the boy, and pulled him back several times to his father.

On the train journey down to Blackpool, David had felt carefree and
like a child himself, and was happy that he’d come away.

When Tom knew they were going to a football match, he begged David to
take him with them, and almost succeeded. But Kathy had intervened at the last
minute, so David left Tom at the door, still pleading, and he promised to take
him to another game soon.

As United scored an equalising goal, the two friends were separated
again. David was pushed forward and he felt the young boy squash into his
stomach and he tried to protect him by shoving the man in front away.

Suddenly, a loud crack sounded from behind as some supporters let off a
firework. David’s instinct was to fling himself over the boy to shield him; his
body tense and electric with muscle spasms and fear. Someone had done this for
him in the past and, although he didn’t know it yet, David would have to do it
again in the future.

For a few moments David held the boy tight to his body, then he felt a
hand heavy on his arm and, as he turned around, the boy’s father punched David
in the face.

With the fierceness of the blow, he struggled to keep his footing and
he started to fall. Blood trickled down his cheek and saturated his t-shirt and
David knew that if he did fall, the crowd would be on top of him. His instant
reaction was one of survival, as he grabbed the arms and legs of those about
him to stay on his feet. He didn’t know what had happened to the boy but felt
stupid as he struggled for breath. Then he started to choke as his clothes
tightened around him, and the collar of his t-shirt cut into his neck. He felt
himself being dragged backwards and once again struggled to keep his footing;
he thought he would die here in this noisy, dreadful place, with chanting
noises that would remain in him; like some monotonous dream.

Then suddenly it became dark and a cold draught immersed his body and
David was alive; still choking, as he finally fell to the ground with someone
struggling beneath him.

‘Get off me, you idiot!’

David was cradled in Tony’s arms as the two of them sprawled on the
steps in the corridor. Tony was laughing as he wriggled free and pushed David
out of the way. ‘It’s me you fool. I had to drag you out or you’d have started
a riot! What in God’s earth were you doing? Why did he hit you?’

‘I don’t know. I only tried to protect the boy. There was a crack and I
thought it was a gunshot!’ David sat up and held his hand to his face and,
momentarily, closed his eyes.

‘It was a firework, that’s all!’ Tony pushed a handkerchief on David’s
lips and dragged him up on to his feet. ‘I think we’d better get you out of
here.’

As they left the stadium, silence met them. The singing and chanting,
restricted by the height of the roof became a faint muffle and the peace was
comforting.

David’s mouth throbbed as the strength of the pain intensified and he
felt the warm blood drip from the wound and onto his face. Holding his hand in
the sleeve of his jacket and pressing on to the wound, he fumbled in his pocket
for another handkerchief. Tony guided David by the arm, but they were stopped
as a St John’s Ambulance volunteer asked after his injury and, as the man
removed the second handkerchief from David’s mouth, it exposed a jagged wound.

*       
*        *

The middle-aged landlady saw David’s battered face and surgical sutures
and gave them some warning looks. She expected to have trouble with these two
lads tonight.

‘Doors are locked at midnight, boys. . . . No noise and definitely no
visitors in the bedrooms!’