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Authors: Yelena Kopylova

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Going swiftly across the yard, she went into the main cow-byre, at the end of which was an old door

that at one time had given access to the tack-room. It had long since been barred up,

because should it

accidentally be left open, a cow was apt to stroll in there and wreak havoc before leaving by the other

door.

Quietly now she hurried past the empty stalls. Then moving close to the door, she put her ear to the side

of it.

Their voices came low, but quite clear to her, and the first words she heard made her

squirm, for her son

was saying, “Oh, my love.” And this was followed by a silence in which she let her

imagination run rife.

Then the girl’s voice came to her, saying, “I have enough money, my dear, dear, Jean, to buy you three

farms.... All right. All right, my dear, as you tell me you can have enough money of your own, with your

share, then let us go.”

“Yvonne, I’ve tried to explain, I can’t.”

“You don’t want to?”

“Oh, my God, yes I do. There’s nothing I want more than to take your hand and run from here, onto a

train, onto a boat, and ... and to your home. Nothing, nothing more. But .. but my

parents ... you see,

they are old, they depend upon me.”

“Your Mama, she does not like me.”

“That’s only her way. She ... she’s not a woman who can show her feelings.”

“Oh, but yes, yes, Jean, she shows her feelings to me, I know. “ “Oh my dear, what can I do? What

can I do? What can I say? Only this, I won’t press you to stay, but I don’t know how I’ll live my days

without you.”

“You won’t have to, my dear Jean, my loved one. If you cannot come with me, I stay

with you. We

will be married and I will put up with conditions for your sake. I will put up with

anything for your sake,

and it cannot last forever. I am young and you are young.

Yes, yes, you are. You look young and in your heart you are younger, and . and I will

keep you young.

I promise, I will keep you young. “

In the silence that followed, Mary Ellen slowly turned her body around and her feet

dragged as if they

were weighed down as she moved up the byres and out into the yard. Crossing it once

again, she

returned to the dairy, and there, leaning with her hands flat on the cold slab, she thrust her head from one

shoulder to the other, saying aloud, “I can’t bear it. It shouldn’t be happening to me, not at this stage of

my life. Both my daughter and my son breaking their necks to leave us.

What have we done? What have I done to deserve this? I wish I was dead. I do, I do.

Before this

had happened to me I wish I’d died.

It was close on five o’clock when Hal returned. Not finding Mary Ellen in the kitchen, he yelled,

“Where are you? Where are you, woman?”

He burst into the sitting-room and found she wasn’t there; he went into the office; then into the

dining-room;

and lastly upstairs into the bedroom; and when he saw her sitting by the window, he said,

“What’s up

with you, woman? Why are you up here?

And no tea set. “

She rose to her feet, saying, “Oh, I thought our French visitor was seeing to that.”

“Oh, for God’s sake! forget about the French visitor. Leave the lass alone. There’s

something more on

me mind at this minute than her. Do you know what I saw in Hexham the day? That

young swine, as

drunk as a noodle, or nearly so. He could keep his feet but that’s about all he could do.

And there he

was, with the youngest Reilly. And that’s not all, Reilly’s lass was with him an’ all. Now she’s a known

whore, that one. And what d’you think he did when he saw me? He grinned at me, then

laughed as

he shouted, “Hello there. Grandfather.” I could have murdered him on the spot. My God!

the times

I’ve felt like it. If I’d been near enough to him the day, God knows v/hat I might have done. But I’ll do

for him yet. I swear I will. “

“Don’t say such things, man, even if you don’t mean them. The boy’s wild, he’ll grow

out of it.

Anyway, it isn’t your business, it’s Ben’s and Kate’s, and they’re old enough to see to their own.”

“There’s wickedness in that fellow. It’s in his face. He’s all the Bannamans put together.”

“Will you stop it! Listen to me: we’ve got more things to think about than Fraser’s

capers. Do you

know that that one, our French visitor, is egging John on to leave and set up in France?”

“What’s that?”

“You heard what I said.”

“How did you come by this?”

“I overheard them ... I purposely overheard them. I made it me business to do so. I

wanted to know

where we stood, and now we know.”

“John wouldn’t leave here. He knows where his bread’s buttered. The place will be his

when we go,

‘cos the others are all set well.”

“Don’t be silly, man. By all accounts, she’s got enough money to buy three farms, she

said so herself.

And hasn’t she a fine house in Paris?”

“Did he say he was going?” Hal’s voice was quiet.

“No, he said he was staying. And she agreed to stay with him. But I’m telling you this, Hal, I can’t put

up with her. Don’t you see’—her voice broke “ I can’t put up with her. “

“As I see it, she’s not hard to get on with. Can’t you try? Now that you’re going to lose Maggie, you’ll

be alone. She could be a daughter to you.”

“I don’t want her as a daughter, Hal. As I see it, she’s the daughter of a loose woman.

Roddy

Greenbank’s mistress for years. And if she had him, how many others did she have? And

this one could

be a chip off the old block. Frenchwomen are like that. I’ve heard about them.”

“Aw, lass, lass, give over. Look, if you want our John to stay, you’ve got to pay the price, and she’s the

price. We’re losing Willy, and by God! I’m going to say it even if begrudgingly, we’ll not get another

like him, and I for one will miss him. And another thing I’ll say when we’re on, you’ll not get another one

like Maggie, for she’s worked like two or three over the years.”

“Who’s fault was that? You’ve always baulked at paying for hands inside and out.”

“Well, that’s how you wanted it, didn’t you? You didn’t want any other women flitting

round your

house. Well, as it seems now, you haven’t any choice. And another thing you’ve got to

remember if John

were to go, he’d take his share with him, and that would take a big slice out of

everything. My God!” He

turned about.

“I was a fool for putting that in writing. I should have let him wait until I was gone.” He let out a

long-drawn-sigh and turned from her and went out, leaving her with her mouth agape and her hands on

her hips. She had the feeling she wanted to scream, just stand and scream. He couldn’t see her side of

it. It didn’t bother him how she felt about the French piece, all he was concerned about was keeping

John here, and also his share of the money. He wasn’t really concerned about Maggie

going, only the

loss of Willy. He was a selfish beast, utterly, utterly selfish. She had given her life to him, and what had

she in return?

In her mind she was back in her early days hating the boy called Hal Roystan, wanting to hit out at him

with something.

Her actions now could have been indeed those of the young girl she once was, because

going to the

wardrobe, she took down the dress that Yvonne had bought for her and, taking it off its hanger, threw it

on the floor and kicked it here and there. Then she sat down on the foot of the bed and, gripping the rail,

she shook it as if she would wrench the whole iron support of the bed apart.

It promised to be a perfect spring day. By eleven o’clock the sun was warm, and the

steam was rising

here and there from the wet fields. The burn was running swiftly over the pebble bottom and Yvonne

stood on the bank and looked down onto it. But she didn’t seem to see it as she would

have done if

Jean had been by her side: then, she would have pointed out again as she had done last Sunday, the

colours in the water, and laughed, and shaken his arm when he said, “It just looks clear to me. I might

see it differently if I was coming back from a fair or a celebration, but that’s about the only time.” And

they had laughed together.

It wasn’t often they laughed together since her return, and she wondered now if this was what life would

be like if she married him . when she married him. And the farmhouse would become her

home. How

could she put up with his mother’s attitude towards her day after day?

At one time she had hoped to love her as a mother, but now she knew that was an

impossibility: the

woman disliked her wholeheartedly, and did not hide her feelings on any occasion. As

things were now

she still had Maggie, but Maggie would soon be gone with her Willy, and what then? The thought turned

her from the bank and she walked along the path following the twisting of the burn until she came to the

stepping-stones. She had crossed them last Sunday with Jean’s help and walked through

the wood

beyond, but this morning the water was almost lapping over the top of the stones, and

they looked

slippery.

She was standing, undecided whether to chance getting her feet wet, or to take the bridle-path that ran

along the top of the bank behind her, when she heard the sound of horses’ hooves in the distance, and

there’within a matter of seconds, appeared Fraser and Harry on ponies.

Fraser pulled his animal to a skidding stop above her, and sat staring down at her for a moment, and she

up at him. And when he dismounted, his brother did likewise, but Fraser passed the reins of his pony to

him, saying, “Stay there.” Then, walking sideways, he made his way down the steep bank until he was

facing her.

“Out for a stroll?” His tone was conversational, and she answered, “Yes, I am what you call, taking the

air.” She smiled.

“All by yourself?”

Her smile faded slightly as she repeated his words, “All by myself.”

“My ... my Uncle John is taking a chance, isn’t he?”

Her face puckered in enquiry, but she did not ask for an explanation, she knew by his

tone that his

words were meant to be offensive.

“Is it true what I hear, you are going to marry him?”

“It is true.”

“Well, well, my auntie marrying my uncle, because you are my auntie, aren’t you? Funny that, you being

my auntie. You look no more than a kid.”

“You are being ... offensive.”

“What! Me being offensive by just stating a fact? You are, aren’t you, you are my

mother’s half-sister?

Your dad seemed to get about a bit even when he was here.”

“You are purposely rude ... in ... solent, and you are not drunk now, but sober, and acting like a ...

a....” She searched for an English word to express herself.

“Like a what? Go on, tell me what I’m acting like ... Auntie.”

She drew herself up and went to turn round and retrace her steps, but he was standing in her way, and

to get to the path behind him she would have to climb a little way up the slippery bank, and rather than

risk this and fall, she made her way now towards the stepping-stones, and she had her

foot extended

towards the first one when he grabbed her hand, saying, “Let me help you across.”

“Please leave my hand go.”

He mimicked her, saying, “Please leave my hand go. And let you fall in. Auntie? Oh, no, I couldn’t do

that. Come on.”

He was standing on the first stone himself now, and as he went to tug her forward,

Harry’s voice came

from the top of the bank, shouting, “Frag! Frag, behave. Leave her be. Frag.”

And now he called back to his brother, “I’m just going to help Auntie across the stones, can’t you see?”

Yvonne was now pulling back and, using more strength than he gave her credit for, she

tugged him from

the stone. But now he was holding her by both arms and looking down into her face,

saying, “What you

frightened of, that I’ll duck you?” Suddenly his teasing tone changed, and there was a deep threat in his

voice as he growled, “And I have a mind, you know, to do just that. Get you in the

middle and duck

you, cool your capers, because you’re a disturber. You know that? You’re a disturber.

Anybody who

looks at you can see you’re a disturber. You’ve upset my mother, and my grandmother.

But not the

men, oh no, not the men.”

“Leave go, please. Please.”

“When I’m ready.”

She turned her head and looked up the bank shouting now, “Harry!

Harry! Go fetch Jean. Please! Please! Fetch. “

“Fetch John? You dirty French slut.”

Now gripping her shoulders, he shook her with such force that her head wobbled and she let out a high

scream, and then another and another.

She wasn’t aware that Harry was about to mount the pony when he was stopped by a

figure coming

round the bend of the burn, and he shouted now down to Fraser.

“It’s Grandfather. It’s Grandfather.”

But Fraser was too intent now in holding this girl who had disturbed him from the first time he had seen

her. With his arms about her struggling body now, the scent and softness of her was

affecting him more

strongly than any drink he had yet taken. And he only came to himself when she was

wrenched from his

BOOK: A Dinner Of Herbs
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