‘Come on, Mam.’ Naomi took her arm and together they joined Wilbur and the lads at the front of the procession. Wilbur’s children from his first marriage were there too, along with their families, and Hannah was standing next to Jake, her face ashen. Rose reached out to her daughter’s friend and Hannah put her arm through hers, and so it was with Naomi and Hannah either side of her that Rose walked the half mile or so through the hot dusty streets to the church to bury her son.
‘I would have thought he’d have had the decency to stay away.’
They were standing in Southwick cemetery and, the burial over, Rose and Wilbur were talking to Father Gilbert while the other mourners who hadn’t already left were gathered about in small groups. Larry Wood and his wife had approached Jake a few moments before and were now deep in conversation with him, and Hannah had been standing by herself until Adam had appeared at her side. She had been conscious of him staring at her, both during the service at the church and then at the graveside, but she had ignored him. In truth, seeing him again had hardly registered on her emotions. ‘I’m sorry?’ she said coldly. ‘I don’t understand what you mean.’
‘Him. Jake.’ Adam nodded his head abruptly towards his half-brother without taking his eyes off her. ‘Joe’d still be alive today if it wasn’t for him.’
‘That’s rubbish.’ She kept her voice low but it was vehement enough for his eyes to narrow.
‘Oh aye, rubbish is it? I might have known you’d be on his side.’
‘It’s nothing to do with sides and I don’t think you ought to be talking like this today. It’s Joe’s funeral, show some respect.’
He was taken aback but he recovered almost instantly. He put his head close to hers as he ground out,‘Respect? Respect you say? Joe was my best mate as well as my brother and you talk about respect? There’s no one thought more about him than I did.’
‘I think your mother would disagree with you.’
‘I wasn’t meaning Mam and you know it.’
They stood regarding one another and as Hannah looked into the handsome face she thought, how could I ever have imagined I was in love with you? Quietly now, she said, ‘I know you loved Joe but none of this is Jake’s fault and you’re intelligent enough to understand that.’
‘Intelligent, am I? Well, I suppose that’s something. I’d got the impression you thought I was something less than the muck under your boots.’
Her face hardened now, and her voice too. ‘Don’t come the injured innocent, Adam. It doesn’t suit you.’
‘Huh.’ For a moment she thought he was going to turn away but then, his manner changing and his voice low but urgent, he said, ‘Hannah, don’t stay at the farm, come back into town. I was a fool, I know I was a fool but I’d do anything to make things right. We could run away together. I’d do that for you, honest.’
She stared at him, hardly able to believe her ears. Glancing about her to make sure no one had overheard, she said, ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a married man with a bairn.’
‘I can’t stand it, Hannah. I can’t stand
her
.You’ve no idea what it’s like. She didn’t lift a finger in the house before the bairn was born and now often as not she’ll let it lie stinking in its own mess unless Mam sees to it. She’s bone idle and it’s not just me who thinks so. You ask anyone.’
Totally out of her depth, Hannah took a step backwards away from the look on his face. ‘You - you’re married,’ she said again.
‘We could go somewhere where people don’t know us, down south. Change our names. And what’s a piece of paper anyway? We could say we were married and live as a couple for the rest of our lives, no one would know any different.’
He must be mad. ‘You’re married,’ she said for the third time, her voice stronger. ‘You can’t leave Lily and the bairn. And what we had between us was over a long time ago like I said on Christmas Day. I don’t love you.’
‘I think of you all the time at that farm.’ It was as though he had not heard her. ‘And don’t tell me you like it, being nursemaid to an old man and then having to look at that freak every day.’
‘Don’t call him that.’ Her voice had risen and conscious of one or two folk glancing their way, she moderated her tone. ‘Jake is ten times the man you are, Adam Wood, and as for Farmer Shawe, he’s lovely.’
‘And Daniel Osborne? Is he lovely an’ all?’
She stared at him a moment more and then turned deliberately away to walk over to Naomi who was talking to Mr and Mrs O’Leary. Hannah slipped her hand through her friend’s arm. For him to say all that and at Joe’s funeral. She wished they didn’t have to go back to the house with the others, she just wanted to go home. She had felt strange enough when they had walked past the shop. The blinds had been down as a mark of respect but the door had been ajar, indicating the shop was open for business. She had thought she caught a glimpse of her uncle as she passed. She hadn’t intended to look but somehow her gaze had been drawn that way. Naomi’s mam had told her a month or so ago that her aunt was going to have some kind of operation, according to Mrs Mullen and Mrs Chapman. It would have been done before, her aunt’s friends had said, but there had been some talk by the new doctor who was attending her aunt of building her up a little beforehand. According to him, there was a train of thought that plenty of liver and some other foods he’d said her aunt must eat would help combat the effect the constant loss of blood had on her body.
‘You all right?’ As Mr and Mrs O’Leary began to talk to some other neighbours, Naomi squeezed her arm. ‘I saw Adam talking to you. What did he say?’
‘Nothing much.’ She didn’t intend to repeat what he had said to anyone. It made her feel ashamed he had put such a suggestion to her. ‘Just saying he misses Joe mostly.’
‘Aye, well, he might miss Joe but he’s been as miserable as sin for months now. Lily’s awful, Hannah, she drives Mam mad too and Mam’s stuck in the house with her, day in, day out. She’s bone idle and her back’s glued to the bed some days. And I know she’s been carrying the bairn an’ all that but you’d have thought she was the first woman in the world to go through a pregnancy.’ Naomi sighed heavily. ‘Like Mam said the other day, Adam made his bed but everyone else in the house is having to lie on it with him.’
Hannah felt uncomfortable. Changing the subject, she said, ‘There were lots of folk came to the funeral.’
‘There’d have been more but some of his pals were scared to death to lose any time at the pit. They know there’s others waiting to step into their shoes if they miss a shift.’
‘Is it still difficult at home, moneywise I mean?’
Naomi looked at her. ‘Awful,’ she said shortly. ‘In every way. And this with Joe . . .’ She shook her head, unable to finish.
‘Adam . . . Adam blames Jake.’
‘Aye, I know. Me da does too but it’s rubbish.’
Hannah smiled at her friend. ‘Thanks, lass.’
A minute or two later Jake made his way over to them. He put out his hand and tweaked Naomi’s nose in greeting but his face was straight when he said to Hannah, ‘Would you mind very much if we didn’t go back to the house? Or you could go and I’ll come back in a few hours and pick you up in the horse and trap.’
‘Why?’ It was Naomi who spoke and her voice was indignant. ‘It’s because of them, isn’t it? Adam and Da. You’ve provided most of the food and you paid for the funeral and everything, if anyone’s got a right to come back it’s you.’
‘It’s not a question of right, lass. Adam’s spoiling for a fight and think how that would make Mam feel today of all days. We’ve got through the service and all without anything kicking off and I’d prefer to keep it that way.’
‘I’ll come back to the farm with you.’And at Naomi’s involuntary movement of protest, Hannah added, ‘It’d be better all round, Naomi. It’s a bit awkward with Adam and Lily.’
Naomi stared at them, her face woebegone. She had just started courting the Frasers’ youngest son so she could imagine how Hannah felt. ‘I could murder our Adam,’ she said flatly.
After making their goodbyes to Rose - which was difficult because she was adamant at first they come back to the house - Jake and Hannah quietly left the cemetery. It was only a mile or so to the farm from the outskirts of Southwick where the cemetery was situated and it would have been a pleasant walk in other circumstances. As it was they walked in silence along the North Hylton Road past fields of waving corn on their right and the undulating knolls of Hylton Dene on their left. It wasn’t until they’d passed the ruins of Hylton Castle that Hannah said, ‘How do you feel?’
‘Like getting drunk.’
It wasn’t the answer she had expected. She glanced at him. ‘Would that help?’
‘Temporarily.’
‘Then do it.’
Now she had surprised him. ‘That isn’t the correct response a nice, well-brought-up lass should give.’
‘No? Well, I’m nice, at least I think I am, and I was brought up properly and I’m giving it. All right?’
He smiled faintly. ‘Fair enough.’
They didn’t speak again until they turned into the lane leading to the farm, but as they turned a corner and the cottages came into view, they saw Frank apparently waiting for someone.
‘Hello, what now?’ said Jake. ‘He should be in the north field.’
Frank came hurrying towards them, his lined face carrying a look of mingled relief and concern. ‘You’re back,’ he said, stating the obvious.‘We weren’t sure what time you’d stay till. Daniel’s took the horse and trap and gone for Dr Stefford. The master’s been took bad.’
Clara had been on duty in the house in case Seamus needed anything; now Frank said, ‘Clara heard him call out, all strangled like, she said, and she went in and he was clutching his chest and couldn’t get his breath. She come running for me and Daniel said he’d go for the doctor.’
‘How long ago was he took ill?’ Jake called over his shoulder as he started to run towards the farmhouse.
‘Fifteen, twenty minutes ago. I was expecting Daniel back anytime,’ said Frank as he panted after them.
In the kitchen, Jake stopped dead. Clara was sitting at the kitchen table crying and Enid and Jack Osborne were either side of her. It was Jack who said, ‘H-he went a minute or two ago. There was nothing we could do.’
Jake said nothing to this, pushing past them and going through to the dining room, Hannah at his heels. He walked over to the bed and for a moment gazed down at the inert figure.
They must be wrong, Seamus looked as though he was just asleep. Dropping to his knees, Jake whispered, ‘Seamus? Seamus, it’s me, Jake.’ He was aware of Hannah standing behind him and it was another thirty seconds before he said,‘Why now, today, when we weren’t here?’
‘I don’t know.’
Tenderly Jake cupped the old face between his palms. Seamus was still warm and yet life had left him. This man had been the pivot of his existence for sixteen years, more if he counted the time before he had left the town to live at the farm. Initially Seamus had been Farmer Shawe, his boss, but this had quickly moved to friend and then of latter years Seamus had been the father he’d never known. He had tried to prepare himself for this day since Christmas but now it was here he knew he had not succeeded. The burning in his eyes became unbearable.
He rose from his knees and sat on the edge of the bed and took Seamus into his arms, holding him tightly. The tears came, silently raining down his face as he swayed to and fro. How would he manage without Seamus, without his unconditional friendship and the companionship he valued more than he had ever been able to express? He was alone again. He had always been alone, he’d grown up being alone, but these last years he had been happy in a way. Life had become settled; he’d enjoyed the evenings in front of the fire when he and Seamus had smoked their pipes and put the world to rights.
He was vaguely aware that Hannah had moved to shut the door of the dining room. She returned to his side. ‘I’m so, so sorry, Jake,’ she said, and all he could do was shake his head blindly. He shouldn’t be crying like this in front of her, what would she think of him?
She stood patting his shoulder, clearly at a loss to know what to do or say and this, more than anything, enabled him to gain control. After some moments he managed to say, ‘He was a grand man, Hannah,’ as he laid Seamus back on the pillows.