Northern Spirit (30 page)

But David looked up, aware of his mother standing at the door and
wondered how much she’d overheard. He jumped up and pushed passed her, knocking
her body against the stable door. The coffee mugs fell to the ground, spilling
the hot liquid on her clothes.

Barry moved quickly. ‘Are you okay, Kathy?’

He heard her moan, wounded, as she could no longer hold in the pain and
the heartache, and she fell into his arms and, for the first time publicly, she
wept.

.

15

THE LIBERATOR

George Keldas hadn’t seen the outside world for five months, and even
today the bars of the prison van obscured some of his view. But, true enough,
he was outside.

If he could stretch a little taller he would see more, but the guard
beside him sat tight, with his hands held low and handcuffs binding him down.

An ache in George’s side gave him the excuse to stretch upwards, but
not for long; a sharp stabbing pain in his stomach made his body shrink back
down.

He could just see a few cars and people, busy and getting on with their
lives, not noticing him or caring. He looked at the fields. He hadn’t seen
fields like this for months, but the hills here were smaller and the land was
flatter.

If he could just catch a bus, he would soon be home. The children would
be at school and Kathy would be washing
.
But who would look after the
farm until his pain went away? He had no one he could rely on; he had disowned
David and he couldn’t trust Kathy. Maybe Linzi would come home and help him and
Tom, when he came in from school, then they could feed up together. Maybe just
two or three days in this hospital and he would be home. Yes, that would be
best - have a good rest, then leave.

‘Now, George, don’t go to sleep. Make the most of your trip. You’ll not
be getting many more.’ The guard speaking was nudging and shaking the
prisoner’s trembling body.

‘I’ll be home before you think,’ George muttered in a slow, drug
induced drawl.

‘In your dreams!’ the guard said.

Another guard spoke up in his defence. ‘Leave him be, Mike. The man’s
sick. Don’t keep tormenting him.’

‘If you ask me, he’s not sick at all, are you George? You’re a devious
beggar. You know exactly what you’re doing don’t you? You just want a couple of
easy days in hospital.’

If George hadn’t have been restrained he would have punched the guard
in the face, but he was powerless. He was getting used to the taunting now.
They were always calling him lazy, and saying things about his wife and his
daughter. Some things he believed were true, and some of them weren’t. If he
was going crazy, the guards didn’t help.

As the van swung swiftly around corners and up and over small bridges,
George started to feel sick. The palms of his hands felt sticky and fine
droplets of moisture clustered on his forehead as the heat rose. He tried to
bend his back and bury his head down between his knees, but the guard pulled
him up again.

‘We’ll soon be there, George,’ the kindly one spoke. ‘Take some deep
breaths.’

But it was too late. George was sick.

The guard beside him frantically tried to pull himself away, jarring
the prisoner’s wrists and shoulder. But it was no use; the guard was already
spattered with vomit, covering his trousers, his sleeves and his shoes.

‘Stop the van . . . ! Pull it over.’

‘Stop . . . stop. . . . ’ the other guard shouted and banged his fist
on the side of the van. But as they stopped, George was sick again.

*       
*        *

David found himself singing today. He hadn’t felt as lonely as he
thought after Tony’s departure, in fact, he’d thought very little of him these
past few weeks; peace and normality were healing him. David had decided to give
the dairy a spring clean. He’d cleaned and polished the stainless steel bulk tank
and was now scrubbing the dairy walls. When they were properly dry and aired,
he intended giving them a lick of paint. He had some azure blue swimming pool
paint ready to give the walls some waterproofing, and it would give the old
grey concrete walls a cleaner and brighter look. The sun was shining through
the window, showing up the cobwebs and the dust that had accumulated over the
winter. Green wellingtons protected David’s feet, but his overalls were wet
from the scrubbing. His face was speckled with muddy water.

He was swilling the floor clean with the hosepipe when he thought he
heard under the noise of the water pressure the yard gate click open. He tried
not to react and continued to spray the cold water onto the walls. But, as he
tried to force the water on a grubby piece of concrete, he felt the pressure
drop and the water stopped running.

Instinctively, David looked at the end of the hose-pipe and shook it,
but nothing happened. Thinking it must have come loose on the tap, or even
twisted, he kicked the pipe, but still there was no response. So peering down
at the pipe, he walked into the yard to look for a kink or an obstruction, but
there was none.

He glanced across to the farmhouse door expecting to see his mother,
but he was alone. Then he heard the sound of someone laughing, the noise coming
from the stone tower. Feeling anxious, he sidled across to the old building.
Just in the recess he could see the back of someone crouching by the door;
someone with long red hair.

‘Tony . . . is that you? Stop messing around.’

But David was surprised to see it was Joanne.

She ran to him and hugged him, smothering his damp body with hers. ‘I’m
back, Davey . . . I’m back. Are you pleased to see me?’ Then she started to
kiss his muddied face. ‘I’ve come home for good, now.’

David still smothered in the girl’s warm body was shocked and remained
silent.
Why has she come back now?
He thought.
I’m not ready for this
yet.

David pulled her arms from him and gently pushed her away. ‘Joanne,
please. Be careful, I’m wet through.’

‘What’s the matter, Davey . . . ? Aren’t you pleased to see me?’ Her
pale green eyes looked saddened at his reproof. ‘Why didn’t you answer my
letters?’ Joanne wiped the grime from her jacket and continued. ‘Oh it’s so
good to see you,’ and she couldn’t resist hugging him again.

Pulling away, David went inside the tower to turn the tap back on, but
she came closer to him and held onto his arm as he muttered a few indiscernible
words, then more clearly said: ‘You’ve taken me by surprise that’s all, Jo.
I’ve been busy. There’s a lot of work to do now. Anyway, you know I’m useless
at writing.’ David wiped his mud-spattered face with his sleeve, as all the
time she was watching him and grinning.

‘Have you missed me, Davey? Have you?’

‘I’ve been thinking about you a lot, Jo.’ And that was no lie. ‘Look .
. . I do want to talk, but not here, not now.’ Confused thoughts rushed through
his head. She was always one step in front of him; always quicker with words
than he was. He needed time to think. It was apparent that she still felt the
same about him and, if he couldn’t take away any of the harm he’d already done,
he must ask her to marry him. But he couldn’t do it just now. He wasn’t ready.

As she stood before him, she looked well; rested and less anxious. Her
pale skin held a rosy glow, blushing her cheekbones. Her hair was falling loose
with soft curls that framed her face, the sort David couldn’t resist. He wanted
to touch, and he now understood why he’d kissed her that night.

Joanne was wearing a green wool jacket with brass buttons, with a
mustard coloured scarf wrapped around her neck. Her skirt was short: red
tartan, and she wore black tights. She looked like a child.

David peered into her face, something he’d resisted for so long and,
although he knew she was still only eighteen, he thought what a beautiful bride
she would make.

He held her arms and looked her square in the face, ‘Meet me tonight. .
. . Not here. Meet me in Keswick, at the Moot Hall. Catch the seven o’clock bus
and I’ll bring you home. Now please go, Joanne . . . please.’

She obediently accepted the authority in his voice and complied. Giving
him one last embrace, Joanne was about to leave when they heard footsteps at
the door. They turned around.

‘What a pretty sight . . . I’m so sorry to interrupt your intimacy,’
the man said.

David had to blink; his mouth dropped open, astonished at the sight of
his father, who once again was holding a shotgun and was standing in the
doorway, blocking out the light.

This cannot be real.
David thought.
It’s déjà-vu!

‘What’s the matter, lad? Dumb as usual. Surprised to see me eh?’

David pulled Joanne closer to his side; she was shaking and unable to
breathe.

‘You shouldn’t leave things like this lying around the place, Davey.’
George waved the gun at them. ‘You never know if they might get into the wrong
hands,’ and he started to laugh.

David tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come out. He thought only:
P
lease . . . please . . . not now . . . not again.

‘Are you scared, Davey boy?’ George raised the shotgun a little higher
and David now clearly saw the eyes of the man he most feared. He was looking
older and thinner and much changed in five months.

‘I expected to find you here, Davey, but I didn’t expect her to be with
you. . . . The little bitch . . . ! She’s after you now is she? She’ll never
leave you alone, won’t that one. . . . She got tired of me and now she wants
you, does she? Any way, you can have her. You’re welcome to her.’

David didn’t understand what his father meant; he’d become unaccustomed
to unravelling his cryptic messages and manner of speech.

‘So I’ve come to finish the job, Davey. . . . Do you remember? When old
Fred got in the way. No fool like you is going to take over my farm. It’s not
yours to have . . . I want you out. . . . You’re no son of mine! Yes, that’s
right Davey, you’re a bastard!’ George started to laugh again and the skin
around his eyes wrinkled.

‘Be careful what you say to me. . . . ’ David found words with a
strength and dignity that he didn’t think he possessed. ‘Yes, I am a fool, you
know that, so I might actually believe you!’

‘Ah, you’re no fool Davey and these are not lies. I promised your
mother I’d never tell you. But I’ve done it now. Keeping that secret just to
save her face. Looking into the eyes of another man’s son for the last twenty-three
years was enough to drive anyone crazy.’

Words were drawling out of George Keldas’s mouth that David couldn’t
grasp, then he noticed him sway, and his body wavered a little. George scowled
and lowered the gun as he pressed his hand on his side to ease the pain.

David noticed the broom handle beside him and was about to grab it and
try to knock the gun from his hand, when George raised the shotgun and, this
time, pointed it straight at Joanne.

David pushed her to the wall, covering her body with his and then
waited for the bang and pain to hit his back. But it was an age before the
gunshot was actually fired; the pressure from the blast so loud that they were
compelled to hold their hands to their ears.

Joanne and David fell to the cold wet floor in each other’s arms, but
they never felt any pain, and David couldn’t understand why. Joanne clung to
David; the deafening noise from her screams pierced his eardrums. Then there
was silence, with only the writhing of Joanne’s body beneath him struggling to
be free.

She pulled herself from his grasp and ran from the tower. David, on his
hands and knees, turned and saw behind him the crumpled body of his father on
the floor, lying motionless, with a pool of blood about his head.

Shaking with fear, David felt no pity, only relief that his ordeal was
over. Perhaps now there would be an end to the suffering and anxiety. He had to
step outside and get away from the hideous sight. He closed his eyes and leant
against the wall, his body heaved with the emotion and he was sick; he stumbled
against the doorpost to keep his balance.

When he opened his eyes David saw three police marksmen in body armour,
their pistols raised and pointing at him.

‘You have who you want . . . leave me alone. I must go to my mother.’

And David’s slow thoughts started to cogitate over the last words his
father had just spoken. Never before had he heard him speak such nonsense. Then
the spirit left within him surged, and he set out to find Kathy.

*       
*        *

Kathy had seen Joanne come into the yard. She was upstairs washing her
hair when she heard the yard gate click open. She had quickly wrapped her wet
hair in a towel and rushed for a pullover to put on. She hadn’t expected
Joanne’s return so soon. She’d intended to have the fires lit in the bungalow,
make the place look lived in and stock the fridge with food. Kathy also hoped
she would have the courage to speak to David again about Joanne, and talk him
out of his dreadful decision, but she was afraid it might have meant another
row.

Kathy knew she loved David more than she thought was healthy, but she
didn’t want him to make the same mistakes as she had and enter a loveless
marriage. She knew he was old enough to make up his own mind, yet she must talk
to him. But she’d failed, and now Joanne was home and was alone with David. She
must try to come between them before he said anything that he might regret,
even if it meant spending the whole of the day with Joanne, drinking coffee or
scrubbing the bungalow out. She must separate them.

Kathy hurried to put her clothes on and dry her hair and was about to
leave when she heard a great noise, a bang so loud that it shook the farmhouse.
Recognising the noise, terror gripped her, and a mother’s courage impelled her
to run, as she cried out David’s name. She heard the girl scream and saw her
run from the tower and Kathy’s worst fears were now before her. It had to be
David this time!