Larkrigg Fell

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘Jonty,’ Sarah’s scream echoed over the fellside as she realised the danger at last. But it was too late.

  The calf was half demented already, and somehow Jonty had got himself between the calf and his mother. It was perfectly plain to everyone that she did not like it. Before anyone could move or do a thing to prevent it, she’d lowered her head and shoulders and begun to pummel Jonty against the wall of the pen.

  Sarah lay on the big bed she’d once shared with Jonty and let herself sink into deep depression.

  It wasn’t as if she’d loved him, she told herself. They’d had fun together, that was all. Sex. Teasing. Fun. Games. I won’t grieve. I refuse to. But the image of the scene tortured her, filling her mind, waking and sleeping. She saw the blood spurting, forming scarlet splashes all over her skirt and Beth’s cream ‘wedding’ dress as they’d struggled to drag him clear. She woke sometimes in the night in a hot sweat, screaming and trying to brush the stains away, then she’d go to the bathroom and fill the old bath and scrub herself raw to rid herself of the memory. But it was impossible. She would remember those sickening moments and the crack of bones splintering, for as long as she lived.

  ‘It was you, Beth, and your bloody cows,’ she said, violet eyes big as bruises in her pale face. ‘If you hadn’t fussed so much in the first place about a dratted cow, Jonty would never have thought to tease Andrew with one. He never meant to hurt anyone. It was all a joke. If you hadn’t been so prissy and just enjoyed sex with Pietro instead of wanting flowers and wedding bells, this might never have happened.’

  Beth had no strength to argue. She sat shivering, arms wrapped about herself as she stared at the floor, not wanting to hear Sarah’s words.

  ‘Now I have no one,’ Sarah wailed. ‘What a goddammed mess.’

  ‘He’s not dead,’ Tessa screamed, standing up and facing them all in furious despair, fists clenched, tears running down her face. ‘Stop talking about him as if he were dead. Stop thinking of yourselves. They say he’ll never walk again. Think about him.’ Then she ran from the room, leaving Beth to pick up and console baby James, reduced to sobs by the emotion in his mother.

  Sarah turned her face into her pillow and wept too.

  To Beth’s great astonishment in the days following, Tessa cried even more than Sarah. Great gulping sobs which threatened to overwhelm her by their anguish. At first she thought that it was Tessa’s fears for baby James, who’d been so dangerously close by. But later it came out how she’d secretly cared for Jonty all along, without saying a word to anyone. Finding the right words to comfort her seemed a near impossibility. Tessa kept saying how unlucky she was with men and Beth could only wonder at her own misjudgement. What a terrible muddle.

  It hadn’t been Andrew who Tessa had wanted at all, but Jonty. Perhaps Andrew’s jealousy over losing Tessa had finally overwhelmed him. No wonder the fight had got so quickly out of control.

  Questioned endlessly by the police about the accident, seeing two of his best cattle sold off cheap because he couldn’t bear to keep them on the place, and now to lose the woman he loved. Poor man. Beth could hardly bear to think of it.

  Chapter Twelve

  No one felt much like work during those long, nerve-wracking days, Beth agonising over whether Sarah was right about it being all her fault? If she’d never become obsessed with her rural dream and the idea of owning a cow, would Jonty still be well and whole to this day? Beth tried to tell herself that the undercurrents of tension had been there from the first between Andrew and Jonty. They’d taken an instant dislike to each other and there’d been nothing she could do about that.

  But perhaps these tensions had been made worse by trying to live together, had become heated and finally exploded in a most terrible way.

  The weather worsened, growing wet and bitterly cold, the fells taking on the silence of winter. November was here, Christmas on the horizon.

  Even the curlew had deserted them for milder climes on the coast, and Beth felt very much alone.

  They took it in turns to visit Jonty but he never spoke. He lay surrounded by drips and trollies and unimaginably frightening medical equipment, either asleep or feigning it. Despite their vigilance he resolutely ignored them all.

  The nurses tried to reassure them. ‘He’s doing fine.’

  ‘He’ll be starting physiotherapy as soon as his ribs mend and his internal wounds are healed. He’ll be able to lead a pretty full life from a wheelchair. People do these days. Don’t despair.’

  But they did despair and Beth suffered an intolerable level of guilt, more than she had ever imagined possible.

  Once, Jonty opened his eyes and glared straight at her as if saying that yes, it had been entirely her fault. But he still didn’t speak and after a long moment closed them again. As long as she lived she would never forget the accusation in that pain-wracked stare.

  She tried to bury her guilt and misery in work, spent hours digging and weeding the garden, cleaning the duck pond, mending dry-stone walls and chopping logs. Anything which would exhaust her and help her sleep at night.

  When she wasn’t working she took long walks over the fells, gratefully breathing in the cold crisp air, trying to come to terms with what had happened, to convince herself that she was not the cause of this disaster.

  But it did no good. Sleep eluded her and if ever the accident did slip from her mind for a moment, a mere glance at her sister brought all the terrible anguish rushing back. However unfair and illogical, Sarah held her entirely responsible, and made no attempt to disguise that fact.

  Everyday reality returned with the drop of a letter on the mat. It was from the bank manager. Beth read it in disbelief and hurried at once to Sarah.

  ‘Did you know we’ve spent all the savings, and Derry’s loan too. Every penny we have in our bank account? This letter says we’re overdrawn.’

  Sarah lay in bed. She never rose before lunch these days which invariably was brought to her on a tray by Beth, which she would pick at in a perfunctory way. ‘What does it matter?’ she said, pulling the bedclothes over her head. ‘There’s more in the building society.’

  ‘For how long? You have to get up, Sarah. We have to sort this out.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn about the account. What the hell does money matter?’

  ‘We have to face life, Sarah.’

  But Sarah blankly refused to speak to anyone, even the bank manager, however reasonable he might sound. She stayed in her room day after day, not crying, not sleeping, simply lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling or sitting on the window seat gazing out over the fells. Every now and then she’d storm about on the bare boards, and everyone would lift their heads and listen until she’d go quiet again.

  Tessa moved about the place like a zombie, going through the motions of feeding and caring for James with no conscious thought, spending more and more time at the hospital. She said at least she could be of some use there, keep Jonty company. No one could quarrel with that.

  It seemed perfectly ridiculous to Beth that Pietro should fall into a sulk because she’d told him their wedding must be indefinitely postponed.

  ‘Postponed? But why? This was all very tragic but it is over. Life must go on.’

  ‘No one is in the mood for weddings, or playing games.’

  ‘It would cheer us all up.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  He put his arms about her. ‘You can at least come and share my bed,’ but Beth eased herself free.

  ‘I’m sorry, I know it might sound foolish but I really don’t think that would be right, not yet. How could I think of love-making when Jonty is lying in bed, partially paralysed. It would be too callous. Perhaps when he begins to recover ...’

  ‘But that could be weeks - months.’

  Beth looked bleak. ‘I’m not saying we have to wait quite that long, but I can’t help the way I feel. I’m worried about Sarah and Tess. How can I be selfish and think only of myself? It wouldn’t be right. You do un
derstand, don’t you?’

  For a moment Beth thought the quarrel would erupt into something worse as Pietro glowered at her from beneath dark brows. Then he put his arms out and gathered her close, stroking her hair and kissing her brow. ‘But of course. I am being selfish, wanting you too much. What you must do is to write and tell your mamma that we are engaged. Tell her to come over quickly, then in a month or two, when Jonty is feeling better, we can have the proper wedding. No more silly games.’

  She turned away from him, not yet ready to consider the future. ‘This isn’t the time to make plans, Pietro. Please try to understand.’

  ‘I think you do not love me,’ he pouted.

  ‘I do, I swear I do.’ But she could not, would not give in. She settled the argument with an indisputable fact. ‘In any case, we can’t afford a wedding. We have no money.’

  ‘What you mean, no money?’

  ‘We’re not rich, you know. We must work and save. This place is costing a fortune to do up, more than I realised it would. And I’ve had this letter ...’

  He gave a careless shrug. ‘Poof, what is money? I can get whatever we need. How much would a little wedding cost? Peanuts.’

  ‘I’m not simply talking about financing a wedding. I’m talking about our future life together. Even the roof still leaks.’

  ‘You can borrow money for the roof from your family, from Jan or Meg. Then we will be cosy and can marry, yes? My family always help each other. They will help me, yours will help you, sì?’ He reached for her again but Beth pushed him away, very slightly irritated by his inability to comprehend fully how she felt. Her head ached and she wished she could go to bed and someone bring her cocoa for a change.

  It was left to Beth alone to visit the bank and sort everything out. She didn’t even ask Tessa for a lift but walked down the lane as far as the Broomdale Inn and caught the bus into town.

  When she got back to Larkrigg it was to find Tessa packing her bags. ‘What are you doing? You’re not leaving?’

  ‘I’m taking James to my mother for a bit. See if she remembers who I am.’ Still the same jokey Tess but with a sad edge to the quips. ‘It will be easier to visit Jonty from home. He needs me more than you do now, Beth.’

  ‘Yes, I can see that.’ Beth sat on the edge of the bed, watching her fold baby clothes and felt suddenly, desperately alone. With Tess gone there’d be only the three of them left.

  ‘I’m sorry, kiddo,’ she said, reading Beth’s mind. ‘I know he’s entirely unsuitable, and won’t be any better tempered in a wheelchair, but I think I must love the bastard. I’m not going to abandon him now, not when he needs me.’ Her eyes filled with tears and she dashed them angrily away. ‘Not till I’ve given it my best shot.’

  ‘You’ll come back and see us?’

  ‘Try and stop me.’ Kisses and hugs and brave words but they both knew that even if she did come back, it wouldn’t be the same. The dream had been tarnished, the innocence savaged. The commune had been Jonty’s crazy idea and for all he’d been difficult to live with, they’d miss his energy about the place, his acerbic comments and dry wit. The game was over.

  But then it would probably have ended soon in any case, Beth told herself, remembering all the tensions that had sprung up between them. With Tess beside him perhaps Jonty could find some sort of salvation. ‘He’s a lucky man.’

  ‘Tell him that.’

  ‘You’ll write.’

  ‘Of course.

  Beth helped pile her luggage into the small yellow mini. ‘I’ll miss you, Tiger,’ she said, hugging baby James as she tucked him into his car seat. Then she found Pietro in the kitchen drinking coffee, dragged Sarah out of bed and insisted they both come and see Tessa off.

  Pietro hugged Tessa and tickled James under the chin, making the child giggle ecstatically.

  ‘Given up on us, have you?’ Sarah said, shuffling across the yard in dressing gown and slippers, her raven hair flying wild and free in the brisk afternoon breeze. For all her declared grieving and the grubby, uncared for clothes, Sarah looked, as always, absolutely stunning. She could wear a potato sack, Beth thought with a twinge of envy, and still look beautiful. ‘Now that we’ve no money left.’

  Tessa flinched at the cruel taunt but turned away and climbed into the driving seat without a word. Sarah’s face remained grim as she closed the door after her.

  ‘He was only using you, you know. Any woman who’d open her legs was fair game for Jonty. He didn’t love you.’

  Tessa turned empty eyes to meet Sarah’s fiery gaze. ‘Nor you.’

  ‘He’ll use you and hurt you and show not a morsel of gratitude.’

  ‘I don’t want his gratitude.’

  ‘You’re a fool.’

  ‘Maybe he’ll change.’

  ‘Maybe hell will freeze over.’

  Both women faced each other for a long, tension-filled moment and then Sarah smiled coldly. ‘We’re both losers, it seems.’

  ‘Not me,’ Tessa said, turning to wink at James who gave a shout of laughter and began to kick his fat legs and drum his heels on the seat, oblivious of everything but his own joy at riding in the motor. ‘Depends how you judge success. Come on, cherub, let’s go see Grandma.’

  ‘Drive carefully. And don’t stay away too long,’ Beth called.

  ‘Don’t worry, you haven’t seen the last of me yet,’ and the mini coughed into life then drove serenely out of the yard, the painted eagle on the bonnet a defiant blaze of colour.

  Beth stayed in the yard until the little car was nothing more than a yellow blob in the dale below, then she shivered as a chill wind struck through her sweater right to the heart of her.

  The mountains had never looked more bleak and blue with the cold of a coming winter, clouds gathering grey and heavy with the threat of rain.

  ‘I think we might be in for a storm,’ she said. But she was talking to herself. Pietro and Sarah had back gone into the house long since.

  Later that evening as Beth fastened up the hens and checked that the geese and ducks were safe, the wind was even worse. The outhouse roofs rattled ferociously, doors slammed and she was almost knocked from her feet as she ran back and forth, putting abandoned garden tools away, tying dustbin lids down, anything which might be sucked away by the ferocious wind and spewed up miles away across the fells. A house on a ridge was all very well with its panoramic views and clean, fresh air, except in bad weather.

  She clung to a dry-stone wall for a moment as she watched black storm clouds foaming about the heads of the mountains, back lit by a translucent blue. It made her feel small and insignificant and she shivered, for the first time apprehensive about the future.

  Was she doing the right thing by postponing her marriage to Pietro? She’d no wish to lose him. But would it last? Was it possible to fall in love so quickly and why did she even have these doubts? Why wasn’t she dragging him down the aisle as fast as she could?

  She’d certainly behaved with unusual impulsiveness during these last few months. Buying the goat for one thing, which had proved to be a total disaster. Buying hens, ducks and geese which she kept largely as pets and for the few eggs they provided. Still seeking some pastoral dream. Then without heeding anyone’s advice she’d decided on a cow and set off a whole chain of events which had ended in horror.

  Now Beth felt that the accident had left her even more unsure of herself, filling her with new insecurities,

  Larkrigg would seem so empty without Tess. Beth knew she would miss her, if not Jonty. But however irritating he could be with his odd games and weird sense of humour, she’d never have wished this terrible tragedy on him, never. Nothing would be quite the same ever again.

  There were tears rolling down her cheeks, the first she’d cried since the accident. Somehow there hadn’t been time with all the problems to see to. For a long moment she allowed herself the luxury of grief and self-pity and let the sobs come, cupping her face in her hands like a child. If only she could turn back the clock
and they could all be happy and carefree and young again.

  After a while Beth wiped her wet cheeks with the flat of her hand and lifted her face to the wind, letting it finish the cleansing process. The tears had eased her tension and she felt a little better. No regrets, she decided. The decision is made. We’ll see what life brings.

  The rain started and she was obliged to run. Sarah was standing by Pietro at the kitchen range and they moved smoothly apart as Beth entered, shaking water everywhere. Poor Sarah, she thought, seeing the glint of tears in her sister’s eyes. She was suffering badly, and how kind of Pietro to comfort her. Beth kept her voice bright and cheerful as she struggled to close the door against the wind.

  ‘There’s a real gale blowing up. I hope everything’s battened down properly or we’ll have no poultry left in the morning.’

  ‘Stop worrying about the bloody poultry. They’ll survive without your fussing,’ Sarah said sharply. ‘We all will.’

  ‘Shall I make cocoa?’ Beth suggested brightly, as everyone stood about, not quite knowing what to do or say next.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, not everything can be cured with a cup of cocoa. I’m going to bed.’

  When Sarah had gone, slamming the door behind her, Pietro took Beth in his arms. ‘Now that we are alone, you will come to my bed tonight, yes?’

  She pushed him away, laughing. ‘No, of course I won’t.’

  ‘Why not? I need you.’

  ‘We’ve been through all of this countless times.’

  ‘Why should we not comfort each other?’

  ‘There’s Sarah, just a few doors away, grieving for Jonty.’

  ‘She could have had him, if she’d had half of Tessa’s courage,’ he said, and knowing he was right, Beth felt almost embarrassed for her sister.

  ‘Sarah is very sensitive,’ she hastily explained, ‘and she doesn’t find it easy to give of herself or deal with difficulties of that nature. I’ve no wish to sound disloyal but I wouldn’t call her a naturally caring person. She finds it hard to show her feelings.’