Ghosts of Yorkshire

by Karen Perkins

  ‘Of course not, it’s good to see a friendly face,’ Jayne said. ‘Why don’t you sit down, join us?’

  We shuffled round and Vikram squeezed in on the bench next to Jayne.

  ‘Happy New Year,’ I said to him, draining my glass. ‘I’m surprised to see you here, I just expected tourists – I thought you’d be going up to town.’

  ‘No, it gets too much – full of teenagers falling over,’ he said. ‘I’d rather just go down the pub with my mates.’

  ‘I didn’t realise you and William knew each other.’

  He gave me a funny look. ‘Known him since I were a lad. I didn’t know you knew him.’

  I opened my mouth then closed it again. Why had I said that? Vikram was right, I was the incomer here. I was the one who didn’t know anybody in Haworth, who had no ties here.

  William plonked a couple of pints of bitter on the table, then left again, all without saying a word.

  I glanced at Jayne and Lara, who asked Vikram, ‘Is he always so friendly?’

  Vikram smiled and sipped his beer. ‘He’s Yorkshire. Tends to keep himself to himself, but he’ll speak when he has summat to say. Then you won’t shut him up.’ He replaced his pint glass on the table and looked thoughtful. ‘He has been a bit out of sorts, though, lately. He was gutted when you didn’t show up at the Bull, Verity.’ He winked then jumped as a bottle of Sauvignon blanc was slammed on to the table.

  William glared at his mate, then turned to me and said, ‘Tess behind the bar says this is the one you’re all drinking.’

  ‘Th-thanks, yes,’ I stammered, and shifted on my seat to make more room.

  Jayne coughed and I realised she hadn’t met him yet.

  ‘This is Jayne,’ I said with a hand flourish. ‘And this is William.’ I flourished my other hand.

  ‘He’s the painting man,’ Hannah said, proving she was still determined to stay awake. ‘Auntie Verity’s boyfriend.’

  William spluttered into his beer and I shut my eyes for a moment then busied myself pouring wine, unsure what to do or say, and unable to look at him.

  Lara came to my rescue. ‘I think it’s a bit soon to be saying that, Hans.’

  I gulped my wine, still not daring to look at William, yet very aware of him squashed up beside me.

  ‘Yes, the rule is three dates,’ William told Hannah, his voice serious, and Jayne nudged my leg on my other side. ‘You’re not boyfriend and girlfriend before three dates.’

  ‘And by then you’ll know whether or not you want to be,’ Vikram added, laughing, then leaned towards Jayne and muttered something I couldn’t hear.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Hannah said and paused. ‘Is this a date?’

  ‘This is just friends meeting up to celebrate a new year,’ Lara said.

  ‘So what would make it a date then?’

  ‘I’ll tell you later,’ Lara said, ‘in private.’

  ‘Ah, kissing,’ Hannah said, stuck her thumb back in her mouth and wriggled on Lara’s lap until she was comfortable again.

  ‘How did you enjoy the procession?’ Vikram asked, covering Lara’s shocked silence, Jayne’s poorly stifled giggles, and the matching blush on William’s face and my own. ‘Looks like you went to a lot of trouble.’

  ‘You didn’t fancy the Bull then?’ William spoke softly in my ear as the others discussed the merits of various items of Victorian dress.

  ‘I’m sorry, it was rude of me to stand you up.’

  ‘So why did you?’

  I sipped my wine, then looked up at him. ‘Everything’s just been so full on lately, then with all the brass band stuff, the Bull was heaving, I just felt overwhelmed. I guess I needed a quiet evening with the girls. I’m sorry, it was a last minute decision.’

  ‘You don’t need to apologise,’ he said. ‘Are you okay with us being here? Do you want us to go?’

  ‘No,’ I said, a little louder than I’d intended. ‘No, it’s good to see you, I’m enjoying this.’

  ‘Not too full on?’ he teased.

  I said nothing, my mind whirling.

  ‘I know what you mean, though,’ he added. ‘Something’s going on here – it has me a bit, well, freaked too.’

  ‘Freaked?’ I raised an eyebrow then put my hand on his knee before I realised I’d done so. I moved quickly to hold my wine with both hands. ‘Sorry. Yes, freaked is a good word.’

  He leaned towards me at the same time as I turned to him.

  ‘Ow,’ he said, holding his nose as I rubbed my temple.

  ‘The fireworks are starting!’ Hannah shouted, scrambling off her mother’s knee, and I looked round in surprise to see the bar was almost empty.

  ‘Blimey, is that the time?’ Jayne said, echoing my own thoughts and we grabbed drinks and shawls, then hurried outside.

  ***

  Fully aware of William standing next to me, I did my best to ignore him. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to engage him in intelligent conversation, or tell him to leave me alone, so instead I oohed and ahhed with everyone else at the white, green and red flowers depicted in the skies above Haworth Moor.

  ‘Ten, nine, eight, seven ...’

  My breath froze as I realised what the chant meant. What it was leading up to. It had been so long since I’d enjoyed a New Year’s Eve celebration as a single woman, I’d forgotten about the pressure.

  My heart beat faster and I could feel the warmth spread over my chest and head.

  ‘Four, three ...’

  ‘Verity?’

  ‘Umm?’ It was all I could manage, and I risked a glance upwards, just as an almighty barrage of rockets, Roman candles and mines put everything that had gone before to shame.

  His lips were on mine before I registered he’d leant in, and the scratch of his new stubble tickled my jaw.

  That’s really going to irritate my skin, I thought, before sensation took over doubt, fear and sense.

  I kissed him back, my tongue meeting his, teasing, playing, exploring. My lips allowed him to lead the dance and my misgivings melted away – at least for the moment.

  We parted with a gasp, both of us short of breath, and my flush deepened at the stares of Jayne, Lara, Hannah and Vikram.

  14.

  ‘Let us confess our sins in penitence and faith,’ the vicar of St Michael and All Angels intoned.

  ‘Verity!’ Lara nudged me and passed me a packet of tissues.

  I gave her a puzzled glance.

  ‘Your nose,’ she hissed.

  ‘Live in love and peace with all.’

  I put my fingers to my face. They came away bloody. I fumbled a tissue out and held it to my nose – just in time as blood gushed from me.

  ‘Head back,’ Jayne whispered, then smiled reassuringly at the woman in the pew in front of us who’d turned to see what was going on. I kept my head bowed, not wanting to swallow the blood.

  ‘Lord, have mercy.’

  Lord have mercy, indeed, I thought, echoing the vicar’s words. Why now? I had suffered from regular nosebleeds in the early days of my breakup with Antony, but I hadn’t had one for months now. Until today.

  ‘Keep it back,’ Jayne insisted, passing me a fresh tissue.

  I glared at her, but this was not the time to debate the correct head position during nosebleeds.

  The congregation stood to sing a hymn, and I risked moving the tissue away. A mistake.

  ‘I need to go,’ I said as best I could.

  ‘You take her, Lara,’ Jayne said.

  ‘You’re not coming?’

  ‘No, I’d like to stay. Unless you need me, Verity?’

  ‘No.’ It came out more like ‘doe’. ‘I’ll be okay. You stay too, Lara.’

  ‘I’m coming,’ Lara said in a tone of voice I knew not to argue with. ‘But we’d better hurry.’

  Jayne slipped out of the pew to let us out and I hurried out the door, closely followed by Lara and Hannah, grateful we’d chosen a pew at the back.

  ‘Why was that lady staring at us?’ Hannah
asked. ‘Couldn’t she see Auntie Verity had a nose bleed?’

  ‘Probably thinks I did something to deserve it or there’s something wrong with me,’ I said dryly, ‘and shouldn’t set foot in a church.’

  ‘Stop that right now, Verity,’ Lara said. ‘It’s a nosebleed, nothing more, nothing less.’

  I handed her the packet of tissues to extract another for me, then placed the fresh tissue to my nose.

  ‘I think it’s getting better, Auntie Verity.’

  ‘Yes, it’s definitely slowing,’ Lara added. ‘Come on, let’s get you home and cleaned up.’

  ***

  ‘Jayne’s taking her time,’ Lara said as she handed me a mug of coffee and took away the now-melted bag of peas to replace them in the freezer.

  ‘Umm,’ I said. ‘She’s up to something.’

  Lara shrugged, sat beside me, and sipped her coffee. ‘How are you feeling?’

  I brushed my fingertip under my nose, and gave it a quick check. Clean. ‘It’s stopped.’ I touched the tip of my nose and winced. ‘All a bit sore, though.’

  ‘You’ve got a red nose, like a clown, Auntie Verity,’ Hannah informed me.

  Lara laughed, which somewhat negated the impact of her, ‘Don’t be rude, Hans.’

  She recovered herself and touched my arm. ‘It’s just the frozen peas, Verity.’

  I smiled. I knew well what I must look like, and doubted Hannah was far wrong. I pulled a face at her, immediately regretting the nose scrunch, but the laughter was worth it.

  ‘I think I’ll just go and change,’ I said, tugging my top to show off the blood drips, but was stopped by Grasper’s frenzied barking.

  ‘Aunt Jayne’s back,’ Hannah announced from the window. ‘She’s got the vicar with her, he’s still wearing his dress.’

  ‘Cassock,’ Lara corrected as she joined her daughter at the window and peered below. ‘Looks like you were right – she is up to something.’

  ***

  ‘Well, that was a waste of time,’ Lara said as we found a free table.

  ‘Couldn’t hurt to try,’ Jayne said. ‘Do you both want wine, shall I get a bottle?’

  ‘Coke, please, Aunt Jayne.’

  ‘Apple juice or water for you, miss,’ Lara corrected.

  ‘Apple juice.’ Hannah pouted then added, ‘Please,’ at her mother’s raised eyebrow.

  We sorted menus while Jayne went to the bar.

  ‘It was a good idea, Jayne,’ I said when she returned. ‘Thanks. Though I’m surprised you persuaded the vicar to come straight over after the service.’

  ‘He said it’s not the first time someone’s had a spontaneous nosebleed in his church,’ Jayne said. ‘He said if you were that stressed, the least he could do was come round as soon as the congregation had left.’

  ‘He probably wanted a look-see at what you’re doing to the place,’ Lara said. ‘You know what these villages are like, everyone wants to know everybody else’s business.’

  ‘Probably,’ I said with a laugh. ‘Either that or he was looking for the Grey Lady.’

  ‘Behave,’ Jayne said. ‘It was good of him to give up his time to bless the house – it’s his busy day, you know.’

  We all laughed then, the tension broken. Truth be told, I had found the blessing comforting – and very similar to Lara’s cleansings. I couldn’t quite understand why she was being so sarcastic and resistant. I shrugged; maybe she just wanted to be the one to solve the issue.

  ‘What’s up?’ Jayne asked.

  ‘Nothing, just trying to make sense of the last few days,’ I said.

  ‘Are the dreams back?’ Lara asked.

  ‘No.’ I blushed. ‘I couldn’t sleep last night – not a wink.’

  ‘Ah, thinking about William,’ Jayne teased.

  My blush deepened.

  ‘You’re one to talk, Jayne, did you dream about Vikram, or did he keep you up all night too?’

  ‘What?’ I stared at Jayne, whose blush was in competition with mine. She was the scarlet of a hunting jacket.

  ‘Yes, Vikram and our Jayne at midnight,’ Lara said. ‘Giving you and William a run for your money – I had to cover Hannah’s eyes.’

  ‘No, I saw them.’

  ‘Oh, thank goodness,’ Jayne said as Tess approached with our wine. ‘I need a bloody drink.’

  ‘Roast beef and Yorkshire puddings all round, please,’ Lara said to Tess. Then, to us, ‘What?’

  ‘We might have wanted something else!’

  ‘Tough – it’s a Yorkshire roast for you while you both fill me in on your men. And be aware of young ears!’

  15.

  Deep breath. You can do this, I thought, then reached out and pushed my way through the inner door to the Black Bull.

  I paused, self-conscious, my eyes scanning the interior, trying to check each nook and cranny without appearing too obvious.

  Then I saw him. Hand raised. Smiling. At the bar. Waiting for me. William Sutcliffe.

  The worry that he wouldn’t be here, and the fear that he would be, coalesced, but now the churning in my stomach was infused with warmth. He was here, and I was here. Everything else – caution, memories, Antony, my dreams – hadn’t been powerful enough to keep me away. Whatever the evening would bring, I was here; he was here.

  I realised I was still standing near the entrance, blushed, smiled, and walked towards him.

  ‘Hi, I was worried you were going to stand me up again.’

  My heart leapt into my mouth, and I realised I’d made a mistake. ‘You weren’t expecting me to turn up? You didn’t mean it?’

  ‘Oh,’ he held the flat of his hand out to me, ‘no, that’s not what I meant. I was just trying to make a joke.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I see.’ I was lost. Was this a date or wasn’t it?

  ‘Shall we start again?’ He grinned, and my heart leapt again, this time more pleasantly, at the lopsided smile and resultant dimple in his right cheek. I nodded.

  ‘Hello Verity, it’s good to see you.’ The dimple deepened. ‘Would you like a drink?’

  ‘Yes please, a large one.’ I found myself wishing for dimples in my own cheeks to match his.

  ‘That bad is it?’

  ‘Getting better.’

  Deeper still. A pause, then a quirk of his eyebrow.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘What would you like to drink?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Umm, dry white wine please.’

  He ordered it, plus another pint of Black Sheep for himself. ‘Haven’t done this for a while.’

  ‘No, I’m a bit out of practice.’

  ‘I meant me.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Shall we sit down?’

  ‘I think we’d better.’

  We found a seat in the corner by one of the lopsided leaded windows, and looked at each other in silence for a few moments.

  ‘Shall we start again?’

  ‘Okay.’

  We laughed then, the awkwardness dissipating in the absurdity of the situation. A couple of nights ago, we’d been in each other’s arms at the birth of a new year, a couple of nights before that we’d hardly been able to stem the words; now we seemed incapable of conversation.

  ‘It’s good to see you,’ William said.

  ‘You too. Cheers.’ I held my glass up to clink, then we drank, our eyes locked on each other.

  I realised he was younger than I’d originally thought – probably mid-thirties rather than early forties. His face was tanned, but what I’d taken for wrinkles, I now saw were pale lines – crease lines, I realised. He must spend a lot of time outdoors, squinting into the sun.

  ‘You’ve shaved,’ I said, out loud, then gasped and clamped my hand over my mouth.

  ‘Well, I am on a date,’ he said dryly, his eyebrows raised. ‘Though it’s a damn strange one so far.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m out of practice,’ I reaffirmed.

  ‘Good.’

  I took another drink, cursing myself for injecting dis
comfort back into the evening.

  ‘It looks good.’

  ‘What does?’

  For answer, I stroked my chin, though in truth it wasn’t a good look on him, the skin of his jaw was two shades paler than the rest of his face.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Have you ever grown a beard?’

  He shrugged. ‘Once or twice, but it comes in grey and is a bugger to trim. Easier to shave it off.’

  I nodded and sipped my drink again. Why on earth am I quizzing him about his shaving habits? How would I like it if he asked me about mine?

  ‘Should get rid of these really, too,’ he continued, running his fingers through his sideburns. I realised he was just as nervous as I was, and glad to have something – anything – to talk about. ‘Rebekah won’t let me though, insists they make me look distinguished.’ He wobbled his head in mockery with the last word.

  ‘Rebekah?’

  ‘My sister.’

  Relieved, I said, ‘She’s right, they suit you – give you a certain ... gravitas.’

  ‘Gravitas?’

  I shrugged. ‘When the word fits.’

  ‘I’ll tell Rebekah that next time she comes to cut my hair.’ The dimple reappeared.

  ‘Is she a hairdresser?’

  ‘No, a historian.’

  I laughed. ‘And the sideburns now make perfect sense!’

  We clinked glasses again.

  ***

  ‘So how is The Rookery coming on?’

  ‘On schedule so far – thanks to Vikram,’ I replied and surreptitiously tapped the wooden table three times. I noticed William watch my fingers, but he didn’t remark on the habit. He definitely had better manners than I did.

  ‘Aye, he’s a good man is our Vikram. He’s very taken with your mate, you know.’

  ‘Jayne? Yes, I heard they got close New Year’s Eve.

  Silence fell again as our eyes met, both embarrassed as we remembered how we’d ‘got close’ at the same time, and I wondered if he felt the same tingle of excitement I did.

  ‘So, Sutcliffe,’ I said, ‘no relation to Peter?’

  He groaned. ‘Why do women always ask me that? No, I’m no relation to the Yorkshire Ripper. Another wine?’ He got up without waiting for a response and went to the bar.