Above the Harvest Moon (22 page)
‘I’ll do that, Jake.’
‘Thanks for all the stuff, Jake.’ Naomi grinned at him, then said, ‘Come on, Adam, else it’ll be too dark to see where we’re going. ’Bye, Hannah. I’ll see you next week.’
‘’Bye,’ said Hannah a little lamely as Adam left her side without a word and joined the others, whereupon they all turned and began to walk off. ‘See you next week,’ she called after them but it was Joe and Naomi who turned and waved. Adam marched ahead, his back stiff.
As the three disappeared from view Hannah said quietly, ‘I’ll see to the tea now.’
‘Aye, all right.’
‘I’m - I’m sorry about Adam.’
He looked at her, the eyebrow on the good side of his face quirking. ‘Why are you apologising for him? He’s
my
brother.’
my
brother.’
‘But he wouldn’t have come today but for me being here.’
‘And you think that makes you responsible for his attitude? Adam’s a big boy now, Hannah, and so am I. You know as well as I do that there’s no love lost between us and nothing he does or says affects me so don’t worry your head on that score.’
‘He’s all worked up with the strike having gone on so long.’
‘Possibly.’
‘I’m not making excuses for him—’ She stopped abruptly.That was exactly what she was doing and they both knew it.
They stared at each other for a moment and what she read in Jake’s eyes humbled her. He had extended the olive branch in allowing Adam to come here and had virtually been slapped round the face with it but there was only kindness and a kind of grim humour in his expression. She found herself wondering how she could ever have been frightened of this man.
‘You said something about tea,’ he reminded her.‘My stomach’s thinking my throat’s been cut.’
She smiled as he had meant her to, and together they walked to the farmhouse.
‘What’s all this, “I’ll do that, Jake” and, “Thanks for all the stuff, Jake”?’ Once they were out of sight of the farm, Adam stopped dead and confronted his brother and sister, his face red with anger. ‘Lick his boots while you’re about it, why don’t you?’
‘Aw, give over, man.’ Joe’s voice was conciliatory. ‘We were only being civil, weren’t we, Naomi?’
Naomi nodded, her small full mouth set in a straight line. She was sick and tired of Adam acting up every time Jake was around and considering they were at the farm, Jake’s territory, she thought her brother had got a real cheek. And all the food Jake had given them too. Adam could at least have shown some gratitude.
‘He acts as though he’s God Almighty and you two were encouraging it.’
‘We were just talking, that’s all,’ Joe said quietly.
‘Talking, huh!’
‘Aye, talking. People do talk, you know.’
‘And what’s this medicine he’s given you? Why can’t you get something in town?’
‘He’s had medicine from the apothecary, you know he has,’ Naomi said, ‘and it’s done no good. Neither has that mixture that old Ma Tollett rustled up, apart from make him gag every time he swallowed it.’ Naomi glared at her brother. ‘And medicine costs money, don’t forget that.’
‘So what’s so special about this Jake’s given him?’
‘Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here.’ It was rare Joe got angry and now Naomi and Adam both turned and stared at him as he said tersely, ‘It’s a brew the old woman Hannah stayed with when she first came to the farm makes up. She bakes something called a wurzel, a vegetable the animals have, with honey and special herbs and sloes and a whole host of bits and then you drink the juice of it. It cures the worse coughs, so Jake says. It’s a recipe handed down through generations. She gave me a couple of spoonfuls when Jake took us in to see her and collect a bottle while we were waiting for you and Hannah and it’s helped already.’
‘All getting very friendly then.’
‘Don’t be daft, man.’ Joe’s voice was low and harsh and again Adam and Naomi were taken aback. For as long as they could remember, Joe had followed where Adam led; with only twenty months separating their births, the two brothers had always been very close and Joe had somewhat hero-worshipped Adam.
‘I don’t think I’m being daft.’
‘He heard me cough and he was trying to help, that’s all.And there’s enough food in this sack to keep us going a couple of days and more, and don’t tell me we don’t need it. The least you could have done was thank him.’
‘Me thank him? Why should I thank him when you two were slobbering all over him?’
‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘Oh aye, an’ pigs fly.’
‘There’s no reasoning with you when you’re like this.’ Joe began walking again, the sack slung over his shoulder, and after a moment Naomi and Adam followed.
After a silence which lasted until they reached the Sunderland Road, Adam said, ‘You still coming on the march tomorrow?’
‘Course I’m coming on the march.’ Joe looked at his brother. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’
Adam shrugged. ‘Didn’t know if you wanted to be in my company with the poor opinion you’ve got of me.’
Joe hesitated. There had been real hurt in Adam’s voice. ‘Look, man, you’re my brother and I think a bit of you, you know that, but fair’s fair, that’s all I was saying. But it’s not worth falling out about, nowt is.’ He held out his hand and after a moment Adam took it and the two of them shook hands.
‘Thank goodness for that.’ Naomi was red in the face from carrying the big basket of fruit.‘Mam’s got enough on her plate without you two acting up. Here,’ she held out the basket to Adam, ‘my arms are six inches longer. You carry it the rest of the way.’
‘I can’t, I’m not going straight home, I’m meeting someone.’
‘Who?’
‘None of your business, madam.’ His good temper restored by Joe’s capitulation, Adam took one of the apples out of the basket and bit into it with strong white teeth. ‘I’ll see you both later, all right?’
As they watched Adam walk away, Naomi turned to Joe. ‘Who’s he meeting, do you know?’
Joe shrugged. He had a good idea and he felt bad about it but with Naomi being Hannah’s best friend, she was the last person he could tell. ‘You know Adam, it could be anyone.’
Chapter 13
The weather changed drastically over the next few weeks, northerners paying dearly for the hot Indian summer they had enjoyed. October came in with hail and icy sleet and after days of incessant rain, Hannah felt she was drowning in a sea of mud. She had thought the back lanes in the town were bad enough, but they were nothing compared to the oozing sludge that seemed to cover every square yard outside the farmhouse. When, after repeated requests for Jake and Seamus to scrape their boots on the massive cork mat inside the kitchen door Jake forgot for the umpteenth time and left a trail of mud on the newly scrubbed floor, she erupted.
It was midday on a bitterly cold morning in the last week of October and as usual she had been up at six o’clock to prepare the men’s breakfast before beginning the baking for the day and tackling a huge basket of ironing.The afternoons she always tried to leave free for scrubbing and cleaning and polishing and already the farmhouse was beginning to look a different place. She had transformed the kitchen first, it being the place that had niggled at her the most, and now it was bright and gleaming. The lustrous black-leaded range, the sparkle on the dishes and pots and pans, the shining brass on the mantelpiece and the freshly laundered covers on the old armchairs and rocking chairs all contributed to the impression of loving care. The floor was spotless - or had been until Jake’s feet had trodden in clumps of mud - and the clippy mat had been shaken and beaten until its teeth had rattled. Every corner of the room was bright.
‘How many times do I have to tell you?’ Hannah stood in front of the big broad figure of Jake like a small virago. ‘It doesn’t take long to rub your boots clean and if you can’t be bothered, your slippers are there,
there
,’ she emphasised, pointing to the men’s slippers at the side of the mat. ‘Just put them on, Jake. It’s simple, it’s so simple!’ She paused for breath and as she did so the temper which went with her chestnut hair and which neither Jake or Seamus had seen before began to subside. Aghast, she realised she had screeched at him like a fishwife and furthermore so forgot herself as to use his first name.
there
,’ she emphasised, pointing to the men’s slippers at the side of the mat. ‘Just put them on, Jake. It’s simple, it’s so simple!’ She paused for breath and as she did so the temper which went with her chestnut hair and which neither Jake or Seamus had seen before began to subside. Aghast, she realised she had screeched at him like a fishwife and furthermore so forgot herself as to use his first name.
Seamus, who had followed Jake into the house but had remained on the mat, was the first to speak. ‘By, lass,’ he said, ‘you remind me of my Bess. She used to go for me an’ our Terence like that and for much the same reason.’
But Bess had been the farmer’s wife and she was just their housekeeper. Blushing furiously, Hannah brought her eyes from Seamus’s astonished face to that of the man in front of her who had said not a word. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said weakly.
Jake glanced over at Seamus and he was grinning. ‘I told you she had a temper,’ he said mildly, before looking into Hannah’s red face. ‘Do I take it this has finally broken the ice and you can bring yourself to call me Jake? If so, it was worth a roasting.’
‘An’ while we’re on the subject, you can do away with the Farmer Shawe an’ all, lass,’ Seamus put in from the mat. ‘That’s all right for them out there but I can’t do with it in me own house. The name’s Seamus.’
Hannah didn’t know what to say. She nodded at them both before saying again, ‘I’m sorry for flying off the handle.’
‘Nowt to be sorry for, lass,’ said Seamus as he took off his boots and put on his slippers, handing Jake his with a wide grin. ‘I like a lass with a bit of spirit meself. My Bess could curdle milk with a flash of her eyes when she was in a fratch with me. The thing is, me an’ Jake had got used to behaving like pigs in muck since Enid starting doing for us.’
‘I wouldn’t exactly say that.’ Jake’s voice reflected his distaste for the comparison and Hannah couldn’t help smiling.
When she had dished up the meat roll and vegetables that was the lunchtime meal, she sat with Jake and Seamus at the kitchen table. This practice had begun once the harvest was over when Jake and the farmer had declared the kitchen was good enough for everyday meals and the dining room could be kept for Sundays. At first she had felt awkward and shy eating with the two men but this had soon passed, and the shared meal-times had gone a long way in helping her to get to know them both. They usually continued to sit in the kitchen once the evening meal was over these days too, smoking their pipes and chatting in their armchairs in front of the range while she busied herself with clearing away the dishes and washing up, and then preparing the breakfast for the next morning. Sometimes she sat with a pile of mending at the kitchen table or finished the day’s ironing, other times she would pore over Bess’s old recipe book she’d come across recently, one of the cats on her lap. She did think it was a shame the sitting room wasn’t used except for Sundays because it was beautiful, or it would be once she had a chance to get to it and clean and polish everything. She had seen to the kitchen and Seamus’s study now, and the next room was the dining room. Only then would she move upstairs.
Jake and Seamus had been to a neighbouring farm that morning on business. Once they had finished their meal they disappeared to the study to look at some accounts and, being short of eggs for a fruit cake she wanted to bake before she began on the dining room, Hannah collected her basket and put on her coat and boots.
At the hen crees she collected a dozen warm eggs from the boxes and while she was doing so, a cold, late-autumn sun began to shine through the ragged fringes of the thunderclouds. After all the rain and storms of the previous weeks, it was enchanting, and in spite of her desire to begin to tackle the dining room, which stood under layers of dust and grime, Hannah didn’t immediately return to the farmhouse. Instead she continued round the stables, past the pigsties and barns, and emerged on the path she had walked with Adam, Joe and Naomi some weeks previously. She walked to the same ridge they had stood on then and tarried for a while, surveying the delicate play of light and shadow on the fields and hedgerows in front of her. Every blade of grass and inch of ground at her feet was soaked with moisture but there was none of the thick cloying mud which had proved such a burden lately. The route the cattle took from the fields to the farmyard was below her.
As she watched, a double rainbow slowly climbed the sky in the far distance, its colours vibrant against the steely grey. Would Adam come tomorrow afternoon? If not it would be the third Sunday in a row he hadn’t made the journey to the farm. The first week Naomi and Joe had said he was involved with strike business and last week Joe had been alone, both Naomi and Adam apparently laid low with bad colds. She believed Naomi was poorly but she wasn’t so sure about Adam. It hadn’t been so much what Joe had said but the look in his eyes when he said it. He wasn’t a good liar, Joe. She bit her lip, shutting her eyes tightly for a moment. Joe could come to the farm every week so why couldn’t Adam? And yet when he did come he swore he felt the same about her, that she was the only lass for him, so why was she worrying?
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