Read Above the Harvest Moon Online

Authors: Rita Bradshaw

Tags: #Sagas, #Historical, #Fiction

Above the Harvest Moon (42 page)

‘Not to me. He wasn’t like you made out, was he?’
 
‘Oh, Jake. Don’t . . . don’t keep on.’
 
‘I want to know,’ Jake said mulishly.
 
‘Are you sure about that?’ Rose bit on her lip. ‘Least said, soonest mended. That’s what they say.’
 
‘Then they’re wrong. I want to hear it, Mam. All of it. I don’t want you to keep anything back.’
 
The kitchen clock on the mantelpiece ticked a full minute away before Rose said, ‘No, lad, he wasn’t like I made out. He . . . Your da was a bad man, cruel, violent. You take after my da, not the Fletchers.’
 
‘I want to hear it all. How it was, how he was with you, me, everything. What he was mixed up in, why he ended up floating in the dock. Were there people who were after him for something? Was he in trouble?’
 
‘I don’t know that. Truly, lad, I don’t. It’s possible, more than possible. He gambled, he was in with a bad lot . . .’ Rose gazed helplessly at her son.‘Aye, it’s possible.’
 
‘Start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out, right up to the night he disappeared and I got burnt. Why did you marry him in the first place? Surely you didn’t love him?’
 
Again the moments ticked by. Rose turned her gaze towards the fire and began talking.
 
It was twenty minutes before she fell silent and she had told him it all. She had hesitated when she’d reached the part in the story about the last fight and all it entailed, but only for a second or two. She hadn’t looked at him once as she had spoken but she had felt his eyes tight on her face the whole time. Now she did meet his gaze. ‘I told you what I did because I thought it was for the best,’ she said brokenly. ‘You had enough to put up with, I didn’t want you to grow up thinking your da had done that to you. It was me he was aiming at though, Jake. Bad as he was, he wouldn’t have hurt you like that intentionally.’
 
‘But he made your life hell.’ He stood up, more shaken than he could express by what he had heard. He put his arms about her, drawing her up from her seat and holding her tightly as she began to cry. Her tears loosened something in him, something that had begun to form a cold hard knot around his heart and as it melted, the old feeling for his mother was restored but with it an understanding that humbled him. All that, she’d endured all that and now that bit of scum was back.What he wouldn’t give to shut his lying mouth once and for all. But enough was enough. He’d give his father no more blood money after this last time. It had been eight weeks now and all the money he’d put by for the spring to replace some of the old machinery on the farm had gone. He’d be selling off cattle after this. He’d give him one last payment and make it clear he didn’t want to see him again or he’d go to the law. After what his mother had just told him, the little weasel wouldn’t want to rock the boat whatever he threatened to the contrary.
 
‘I’m glad you told me.’ Handing his mother a handkerchief from his pocket, he smiled at her as she dabbed at her eyes. ‘In a funny sort of way it makes this,’ he touched the damaged side of his face, ‘easier knowing I didn’t have a hand in it.’
 
‘Your Granda and Grandma Hedley hated him.’ Rose sniffed and blew her nose. ‘And there’s nothing of him in you, Jake. I’ve always been glad of that.’
 
‘Did you ever resent me being born? If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have had to marry him.’
 
‘Resent you?’ Rose’s voice was soft. ‘Lad, whenever I’ve counted my blessings, I’ve counted you twice.’
 
 
The following Sunday was one of those rare days sometimes found at the end of February. The sky was high and blue, the air crisp and still and the cold winter sunshine a reminder that spring was round the corner. The snow was still thick in places and the ground was frozen, but the birds were twittering madly and sitting preening themselves when Hannah went to fill up the bird table with scraps from the kitchen. Normally a day such as this would lift her spirit, whatever was going on in her life, but since Christmas a greyness had slowly settled on her that no amount of reasoning could shift.
 
Jake was different. She hadn’t been able to put her finger on what was wrong at first, but then twice over the last week or two he’d made some reference to her future and hinted that he didn’t see her staying at the farm forever.
 
She gazed at a couple of sparrows who were making short work of the last of the fruit cake she’d crumbled up for them, but her mind wasn’t on the birds. What had changed so suddenly? What had she done? It was the same thought she had had umpteen times since the New Year, and the only thing she could come up with was the peck on the cheek she had given him at Christmas when she’d thanked him for his present. He had seemed a bit strange then, uneasy, wooden even. She had covered her embarrassment at the way he had made her feel by gabbling away about something or other and the difficult moment had passed, but now she wondered if he thought she had been saying more than thank you. Encouraging him. Chasing after him like Farmer Dobson’s daughter and Grace Osborne, not that it had done either lady any good.
 
Had she given herself away? Had he guessed how she felt about him? She thought she had been the same as usual but maybe that brief kiss had set him thinking and this undefinable change in him was the result. It wasn’t that he was unfriendly or stand-offish, not exactly, and yet . . .
 
She turned and walked slowly back to the house on leaden feet. She couldn’t daydream, she had the dinner to see to before she got ready for church. But she couldn’t hide from the truth any longer. She had to face the fact that things weren’t right. She knew it wasn’t her work that was at fault. She rose every morning before six and rarely was in bed before ten o’clock and there wasn’t a minute of the day her hands were idle. And if the problem didn’t lie with her duties, it had to be her. Her stomach turned over. Jake wanted her to go. He would never come right out and say it, he was too kind for that but she knew it deep inside. She’d just been trying to ignore it. Had he met someone? Someone who might object to him having a young housekeeper? But no, she would know, wouldn’t she? He wouldn’t keep a thing like that secret. Although . . . She paused at the kitchen door, her hand on the knob. He made the trip into town each week. He said it was on farm business and she was sure it was, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have time for other things. He visited his mother, for a start. And then there were the times, more often of late, when he was out riding in the countryside for hours on end . . .
 
She shook herself mentally. No more thinking, not now. She only had a few minutes to put the joint in the oven and get dressed to accompany the others to church, and then after lunch Naomi was coming to the farm and she knew her friend wanted a shoulder to cry on. After months of messing Naomi about, Stuart Fraser had finally found himself another lass and broken her friend’s heart. The last three Sunday afternoons had been spent sitting in the kitchen listening to Naomi talk and talk, and then mopping up her friend’s tears. She didn’t expect this one to be any different.
 
When she had changed into her Sunday clothes, Hannah joined those of the farm folk waiting to be driven to church in one of the farm wagons. Jake was not among them, it was Daniel who was driving the horse and cart. On the occasions Jake attended the Methodist chapel in Castletown, she rode in the horse and trap with him, otherwise she went with the others. She knew from Rose that Father Gilbert blamed Jake for her ‘turning’, as he’d termed it, but in fact it had been Clara who had first persuaded her to go to the church one Sunday a few months after she had arrived at the farm. It had been a momentuous step but after several long talks with the very nice parson, she’d realised she wouldn’t burn in hell’s flames for attending a non-Catholic church. Furthermore, she much preferred it and she had never gone back to Father Gilbert’s church since. Rose had told her all her old neighbours were shocked and no doubt held Jake responsible for her lapse too. When she’d told Jake this he had just laughed and said one more black mark against the ‘upstart’ was neither here nor there. She had tried to laugh with him but the narrow-mindedness of folk who had known him since a bairn had upset her.
 
As they came out of church and folk began to gather in small groups to talk to friends they didn’t see from one Sunday to the next, Clara drew Hannah to one side. Glancing about her to make sure no one was within earshot, Clara said softly, ‘You know anythin’ about this man that hangs about on the road of a Sunday evening?’
 
‘Man? What man?’
 
‘Some little fella, accordin’ to Frank. He saw him there one night when he was coming back from our George’s place. He didn’t think nowt of it at first but somethin’ in the way this fella was standing about made him check up a while later and he saw the master talking to him. They didn’t see him, Frank made sure of that, but he got the impression the master weren’t none too pleased. Frank being Frank,’ Clara wrinkled her nose, ‘he made it his business to see if he was there the next few nights and sure enough the next Sunday, there he was. And there was the master a while later. Now you might say it’s none of our business’ - Clara’s tone made it clear she knew Hannah wouldn’t dare suggest such a thing - ‘but something’s not right. And he’s turned up every Sunday since.’
 
Hannah stared into the small, rosy-cheeked face.‘And has Jake met him each time?’
 
‘Oh aye, the master’s been there.’ Clara had given Jake his title from the day the will had been read.
 
‘I don’t know anything about it, Clara. What does this man look like?’
 
Clara shrugged.‘Don’t rightly know except my Frank says he seems a shifty customer, the sort who’d sell his own grandmother for the right price. Not the sort of man the master’d usually have any truck with, that’s for sure.’
 
Hannah was so taken aback she didn’t know what to think. ‘Has Frank asked Jake about it?’
 
Clara looked askance at her. ‘Frank can’t let on he knows owt. The master obviously wants it kept quiet. That’s why I wondered if you knew anything.’
 
Hannah shook her head.‘And he’s a dodgy customer, this man?’
 
‘Let’s just say, according to Frank you wouldn’t turn your back on him in a hurry.’
 
‘Well, I’m sorry, Clara. I know as little as you do.’
 
‘Ah well, it was worth a try.’ Clara bent closer as she whispered, ‘Don’t let on to Frank I’ve said owt, he said to keep it atween the two of us but I thought you ought to know.’
 
It was more likely that Clara’s curiosity had become overwhelming. ‘I won’t say a word.’
 
‘Aye, I know that, hinny. But still,’ Clara tilted her head in the birdlike way she had, ‘it’s a mite funny, aint it?’
 
It
was
a mite funny. All the way home and then during lunch, Hannah could think of little else. If her thoughts made her preoccupied, Jake didn’t appear to notice, but then he rarely sat at the table any longer than it took to eat his meal these days and the evenings when the two of them had sat in front of the sitting-room fire were a thing of the past. Now, if Jake didn’t have work to do in his study he rode his horse rather than sit with her. This day was no exception. After complimenting her on an excellent lunch he disappeared outside.
 
Hannah had just finished the dishes when Naomi arrived, her broken heart temporarily put to one side by the drama of the news she had to impart. ‘Lily’s gone back to her mam’s and it’s for good this time. There’s been ructions, I tell you. We’ve had Father Gilbert round and all sorts. He told Adam to go and bring her back by force if necessary and Adam said he’d rather cut his own throat. Lily’s da come round ours and you could hear him and Adam all down the street. Mam was mortified. Lily’s accused Adam of carrying on with some lass who lives down by the north dock and she says this lass isn’t the first by a long chalk, but because she’s a,’ Naomi bent close and mouthed, ‘you know, a prostitute, Lily says it was the final straw.’ She stopped for breath.
 
‘Is it true? Did he go with this woman?’ Hannah asked aghast.
 
Naomi shrugged. ‘He says no. He said where would he get the money, but Lily seems dead sure. And I suppose even them women fall in love and do it for free. Adam is very good looking.’
 
‘Good grief.’ Hannah sank back in her seat with such a comical expression of sheer amazement that Naomi grinned at her. ‘You seem very knowledgable about such things.’
 
‘Comes from working at the jam factory. The things some of them talk about would make your hair curl. I wouldn’t dare let on to Mam about half of it. Anyway,’ Naomi’s face belatedly took on a primness, ‘I don’t repeat it to anyone. I just listen.’
 
Naomi was her best friend and yet this was a new side to her. It was disconcerting. But then life was disconcerting, all the more so of late. Half the time she didn’t know which end was up.
 

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