Larkrigg Fell

by Freda Lightfoot

  Then Tessa jumped up, jiggling James on a squeal of delight. ‘Can I show Andrew round?’ Something had to be done, she decided, about this unexpected crackle of tension. A guided tour was as good a way as any to break it. She felt rather sorry for Andrew, out of his depth with these two. But her offer only seemed to make matters worse, making her wish she’d kept in the background as usual, for Sarah at once bridled.

  ‘You do like to make yourself at home in other people’s property, don’t you? First Broombank, now Larkrigg. You’ll be wanting a free trip to the States next.’

  ‘Sarah, that’s not fair. Tessa is a good friend and of course she can show Andrew round. Enough of this, everyone. We should all be friends not squabbling like infants.’

  So Tessa showed Andrew over the house, though he expressed only polite interest. Sarah and Jonty went off for another of their long walks, and Beth started to stack logs.

  The rain was coming down in horizontal sheets, beating against the windows. The sunny days of summer seemed an almost forgotten memory as September came in blustery and wet. Grey clouds cloaked the hills and rain dripped from the trees, filling the hanging valleys, seeping into the ground, emerging to fill the becks and erupt over Whinstone Force and gush through the dale below in a torrent.

  But inside Larkrigg Hall all was cosy and warm as a bright fire burned in the small drawing room grate. This was still the most comfortable room in the house, the only one with a chimney not blocked by bird’s nests. Beth spent the day sanding orange paint off some old cupboards and felt exhausted. She would have liked to take a shower but there was still no hot water.

  ‘I’m going for a bath.’

  ‘You’re mad,’ Sarah said. A remark which proved justified as Beth stood in the old cracked bath tub and scrubbed herself all over with a loofah and breath stopping cold water. Her skin was tingling by the time she’d finished.

  She emerged from the bathroom surprisingly warm and glowing, swathed in a towel, and bumped into Jonty hovering on the landing. His presence outside the bathroom door so startled her, she couldn’t think what to say.

  Completely unperturbed, he grinned and strolled off, whistling.

  Her skin crawled. Had he been peeping at her through the keyhole? She glared at it, set low in the old door and made a mental note to block it up with soap next time. His presence reminded her that they were not alone to enjoy their home in peace.

  Hurrying to a bedroom she quickly pulled on her patchwork cotton skirt and T-shirt, bundled her dusty overalls into a carrier bag and headed for the small drawing room. Back to the farm, cocoa, and bed still sounded good.

  But Sarah wasn’t ready to leave. It was always the same, dark by the time they left. Beth didn’t object because it felt lovely and grown up to sit about eating pasta, and drinking red wine. Besides, there was a quiet peace walking on the fells in the late evening, listening for the hoot of an owl, the bark of a fox. Tonight though, because of the weather, they’d been tempted to leave it even later than usual. Hence the necessity for the cold bath, to make her at least feel human but the momentary glow had gone and Beth huddled by the fire to warm herself, tucking her skirt close about her knees, staring into the hot coals.

  ‘What about the washing up?’ Tessa murmured, without much enthusiasm.

  The hearth was still scattered with dirty plates from supper. The thought of boiling all the water that would be needed to wash them up was more than Beth could face right now. ‘They can wait till morning.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Tessa lay curled on the rug playing patience, while James slept peacefully beside her, thumb in mouth, exhausted after investigating the entire top floor of the house on his bottom.

  Andrew had left long since. He called on them occasionally but never stayed long, seemingly uncomfortable in their presence. Tessa said he was so edgy because he had little in common with the other boys and it hurt his pride when they teased him. Privately, Beth thought him a bit too touchy and proud, and wasn’t sorry when he found some reason to leave early.

  She glanced across at Pietro. He was completely absorbed sketching a pencil drawing of the baby and had not spoken for half an hour or more. Not that Beth minded. She could have sat and watched him for hours, admiration at his care and interest in the infant swelling hugely within her.

  Her feelings for him were confusing for he wasn’t proving an easy man to get to know. One moment all charm and easy smiles, the next crisp and distant, cool as marble or cruelly indifferent. But then all artists were sensitive and complicated. She’d been right about that in him from the start, which pleased her. His beautiful features were beginning to stray into her dreams at night, relaying images which excited and alarmed her all at the same time. All things considered, despite the rain, Andrew’s moody pride, and Pietro’s unpredictable moods, she was enjoying life enormously. She felt perfectly content.

  The only discordant note was Jonty Reynold’s sprawled body which filled the length of the elegant sofa. Sarah sat on the floor, her head resting against his knee and his fingers entwined in her long, curling hair. Every now and again his eyes would open and he would stare across at Beth, smiling in that disconcerting way he had, as if he knew a secret he’d rather not share, and she wondered again if he’d been spying on her.

  ‘We really ought to be going,’ Beth insisted, knowing she would be ignored.

  The fire crackled, throwing sparks out on to the old rug so that Tessa had to squash them quickly with her foot. The sudden movement sent a flicker of shadows on the ceiling.

  ‘It’s almost dark. James should be in bed by this time?’

  Sarah let out a heavy sigh. ‘I don’t see why we should go home simply because it’s baby’s bed time.’

  Beth fell silent, feeling faintly foolish.

  After a moment, Jonty said, ‘Why not stay here? We could all live together. Form a commune.’ He glanced down at Sarah, lips curving into a half smile as he tweaked her hair. ‘Could be interesting.’

  ‘That’s a great idea,’ she agreed.

  ‘You mean like the hippies in the sixties? But this is the seventies now,’ Beth said, alarmed that Sarah might agree.

  ‘What’s wrong with being a hippy?’ Jonty protested, patting his bandana with affection. ‘Or at least be a bit bohemian. Anyway, there were communes before the sixties. After the Second World War, for instance, some blokes couldn’t settle back to work, and getting your own house was a near impossibility. Life was pretty grim. So groups of young people often decided to live together in one big house, everyone mucking in with the work and the kids and the expense of it all.’

  ‘You seem very well informed,’ Sarah commented.

  ‘My ma was brought up in one. It did her no harm. But if your sister doesn’t agree...’

  ‘Oh, take no notice of Beth, she doesn’t have opinions, none worth listening to anyway.’

  ‘Thanks a bunch,’ Beth retorted. ‘Anyway, we might not get on.’

  ‘Why not? We’re all consenting adults.’

  Sarah jumped up and went to put her arms about her sister. ‘Oh, please do say yes. It would be such fun. And we could all take turns with the chores.’

  Beth gave a disbelieving laugh. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it.’

  ‘No, honestly, I really mean it. It’s not fair of us to leave everything to you. Poor sweetie.’ She kissed Beth’s cheek. ‘We could make a rota.’

  ‘We’d have our own separate quarters,’ Jonty added. ‘There’s plenty of room.’

  ‘What about Tess, and baby James?’ Beth wanted to know, not quite liking the idea of being one part of a pair of couples. Not at this stage.

  ‘Fine by me. What have I got to lose? Depends whether you can tolerate a baby around?’

  ‘I like to play with the beautiful bambino. Baby James is my favourite model.’

  ‘There’s Andrew. We couldn’t leave him out.’

  Before Tessa had time to express an opinion on the subject, Pietro intervened. ‘Not good. An
drew will not wish to leave his farm. He is too serious farmer. A dull young man.’

  Tessa protested. ‘He isn’t at all dull. He may be a bit quiet but he has his good points too.’

  ‘Then he keeps them well hidden,’ Jonty said.

  Beth felt suddenly very sorry for Tessa. Husband deserted her, left to bring up a child alone or on charity, now everyone was criticising the man she fancied. ‘Whether or not to invite Andrew must be Tessa’s decision, not ours.’

  ‘Hardly,’ said Sarah, in scathing tones. ‘This isn’t her house, is it?’

  Tessa glared at Sarah, considered combating the accusation that she was constantly after a free ride and thought better of it, biting back on her hurt pride which she really couldn’t afford to have. If Sarah liked to stick pins in people, let her. ‘As you say, its not my house,’ she said, with all due reasonableness.

  ‘We could take a vote,’ Jonty suggested, eyeing Beth with a sideways grin.

  She got up and walked over to the window. The rain had eased a little but the sky remained dark and lowering. ‘It’s a big decision. Perhaps we should all sleep on it.’

  ‘Yes, here.’

  Beth turned and met his teasing smile without expression. ‘Not tonight. Sarah and I should talk this through first. I’m very tired and intend leaving right now before it starts raining again.’ It was the most decisive remark she had made in some time and it brought heads swivelling in her direction.

  ‘OK,’ Sarah agreed with a sigh, deciding that to play along could only be to her advantage. ‘We’ll go home and talk.’

  But as she turned away, Beth’s attention was captured by a flicker of movement on the hills. After watching with interest for a moment she cupped her eyes and pressed closer to the glass for a better view.

  ‘What is it?’ Tessa was beside her.

  ‘I’m not sure. Some men, I think. Spread out in a line across the fell tops. What are they doing.’

  Tess bent closer for a better look. ‘Hunting foxes maybe. Are they carrying guns?’

  ‘Might be.’

  ‘Then that’s what they’re doing. They don’t ride about on horses in these parts to chase a rogue fox. A horse would break its leg on these fells. They walk, and after the dogs have flushed it out, shoot it dead. Civilised as they can make it, and necessary for their livestock.’

  ‘I’m sure it must be.’ Even so she shuddered.

  Tessa laughingly took hold of her arm and gave it a gentle squeeze as she whispered in her ear. ‘If you don’t care for the idea of a commune, then say so and I’ll back you up, but please don’t take Sarah’s line. I really don’t want to get in the way or be a burden to anyone.’

  ‘I know, Tess. Don’t worry. Your friendship means a great deal to me.’ And the two girls grinned at each other in perfect understanding. ‘I’d do my bit. I’d work hard.’

  ‘Let’s sleep on it, shall we?’

  Jonty was at the door, shrugging on his coat. ‘Come on. I’m bored with sitting about. It’s early yet. Let’s see what they’re up to.’

  ‘Ooh yes, let’s,’ echoed Sarah.

  ‘Prowl about in the dark you mean? Hunting the hunters?’ Beth was appalled by the very idea.

  ‘Why shouldn’t we do some hunting of our own? It’ll be fun. Come on.’

  Beth telegraphed silent messages to her sister which were steadfastly ignored.

  ‘Count me out,’ Tessa said, gathering James in to her arms. ‘We’re off home. It’s past our bedtime.’

  ‘Mine too I think. I’ll come with you.’ Beth stifled a yawn.

  ‘You mean you’re too chicken,’ Jonty challenged her.

  Pietro came and put his arm about her shoulders, as if for protection. ‘Beth is very brave, are you not, little one? If she does not go, neither will I.’

  How could she refuse, after that?

  There is nothing quite so black as an empty fellside at night, and Beth stumbled through the darkness, not feeling at all happy about this expedition. What was Jonty up to? The old trees in Brockbarrow Wood creaked, sounding unnaturally loud in the silence. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, making her glance back over her shoulder, then laugh shakily at her own nervousness. ‘Where exactly are we going?’

  ‘We won’t catch up with those men,’ Sarah protested. ‘They’ll be long gone by the time we reach them.’

  Jonty’s teeth glinted in the light of the half moon. ‘We’re not even going to try.’ He whistled softly and the small dog left a hole he’d been inspecting and bounded to his heels. ‘Good lad, Dart. Let’s see what we can sniff out, eh?’

  ‘What we look for? Non mi piace. I don’t like it.’

  ‘Shut up, Pietro. We’re looking for some fun, a good game to play. I like games.’ Then the two boys put their heads together for a whispered conversation which brought forth stifled laughter.

  Beth stumbled on in the darkness, not understanding, trying to peer through the gloom and not trip over tree roots or make any sound since Jonty had told her sternly not to. And remembering how he constantly watched her, she felt just a little afraid of him. After a while he stopped to pick up a long stick, testing it for strength. Pietro did the same and she wondered why. They continued to creep through the woodland, Jonty keeping a close watch on the ground, as if he was most particular where he put his feet. He was probably right to take care. The rain had stopped but it was treacherous underfoot and Beth kept slipping and almost falling in the mud.

  She shivered in the night air, feeling tired and longing for her bed even more. She’d almost decided to turn back when Jonty stopped and gave a small grunt of satisfaction.

  ‘I knew it. Look, a well trodden path and droppings, plain as plain. There must be a sett around here. A whole colony probably in this ridge.’

  Sett? Something clicked inside her head. ‘You don’t mean badgers?’ Beth pushed Sarah unceremoniously aside as she came forward to look.

  Jonty didn’t even trouble to glance at her, only laughed at the shock in her voice. ‘You can shut up too, Beth. This is man’s work. Yep, we’ll try this one.’ He started to poke down a hole with the stick. ‘Go on, Dart. Fetch.’

  To Beth’s horror the terrier leapt down the hole, scrabbling madly with its front feet. After a few seconds it disappeared into the black depths.

  What followed next would, she knew, live with her for the rest of her life. No one paid any attention to her protests, not even Sarah who, though she covered her eyes, was too concerned with Jonty’s good-will to show her disapproval as Dart found his quarry. Dog and badger began to fight. The badger fled from its sett in a bid for freedom from the terrier’s jaws only to find itself surrounded, cornered by humans with sticks who made sure it kept within the bounds they had marked out.

  ‘Stop it!’ Beth screamed but no one heard her, or if they did, paid no heed. ‘Let him go. Call the dog off.’

  ‘Dart’s only doing what’s natural. So’s the badger,’ laughed Jonty. ‘Place your bets folks, who do you reckon’ll win?’

  It was sickening. The terrier brought the badger down on to its back time and time again, sinking his teeth into its rump and the screams which rang out were so heartrending she covered her ears, yet still couldn’t blot them out. Bile rose in her throat. The badger’s glossy coat was slick with blood but still he fought. Tenacious, fearless, eyes glistening with a fierce terror in the moonlight. One small ear was almost ripped off and Beth had had enough. ‘I’ll stop them. I will, I will.’ She leapt forward but never reached the sparring animals as Jonty grabbed her and yanked her cruelly back.

  ‘You stupid bitch. He’d only turn on you. Stop being so bloody sentimental.’

  She struggled furiously in his grasp, wanting to strike him, almost as fearless as the badger and desperate at her own impotence. ‘Stop them. Stop them!’ she screamed. ‘Don’t let Dart kill him. Oh please, don’t.’

  Jonty laughed out loud, a sound that chilled her blood. Then somewhere above their heads a shot rang out. The ter
rier was so startled it stopped fighting instantly and scooted away, tail between its legs to disappear in the undergrowth. The badger’s instinct for survival was such that even with its awesome injuries it attempted to crawl back into its sett. Perhaps for the dignity of a quiet death. It didn’t quite make it and collapsed in a bloody heap, inches from its sanctuary.

  ‘What the hell d’you think you’re doing?’ Andrew’s voice rang out, cold with anger. Beth almost collapsed with relief.

  ‘Having some sport. What does it look like?’ Jonty faced him, a cynical twist to his mouth.

  Andrew jumped down from the ridge, the gun still in his hands. ‘You bloody swine. Don’t you know that badger baiting is illegal?’

  ‘So what? Everyone does it.’

  ‘Everyone doesn’t do it. Not here anyway. Does it give you a thrill to see a fine animal die for your pleasure? Maybe we should put you through a similar process.’ He raised the gun slightly and Beth’s heart contracted. Surely he wouldn’t actually shoot Jonty? She stepped quickly forward.

  ‘Thank goodness you’ve come, Andrew. Never mind about Jonty. What about the badger? It’s injured.’

  Andrew glanced down. The animal had got as far as the entrance to his sett, barely out of sight but too exhausted to go further.

  ‘For goodness’ sake,’ Sarah said. ‘It’s just an old badger.’ Andrew and Beth both looked at her and said nothing. There seemed nothing appropriate to say.

  ‘We should perhaps not have let the game go this far,’ Pietro muttered and Beth rounded on him, eyes glittering.

  ‘No, you shouldn’t. Why didn’t you try to do something? Why didn’t you stop him?’

  Jonty snorted. ‘Because he was as willing as me.’

  ‘He knew he couldn’t stop you,’ Beth responded. ‘He probably didn’t understand exactly what you were up to. Did you Pietro?’

  Pietro looked at her sadly, then shook his head. ‘No, I did not understand.’

  ‘There, you see?’ She turned back to Andrew. ‘What will happen to the badger? Can we save it?’