Larkrigg Fell

by Freda Lightfoot

  Later, she tried to discuss the subject with Andrew, but the mere mention of Pietro’s name sent him pulling on his jacket and heading out the door, as always whenever an unpleasant subject was raised between them.

  ‘Please don’t go. We need to talk.’

  ‘Not now, Beth.’

  ‘Why not now? Why do you always shut yourself away when things aren’t going quite as you’d like? When will you stop being such a loner?’

  But he only turned chilly eyes upon her. ‘Meg lost some sheep today. I’m going to see if she’s found them safely.’

  Beth stood and watched him go, tongue-tied with frustration.

  One morning in early May Beth woke to find herself alone, yet it was still dark and the alarm clock had not gone off.

  ‘Andrew?’

  Beth pulled on her dressing gown and went downstairs. It took no more than a moment to realise that he’d gone out, probably over the fells again. Any excuse to get out amongst the animals he loved.

  Beth sat shivering in the kitchen, sipping tea, wondering if she should light a fire or go back to bed. Then Emily woke, demanding to be fed and she nursed her while watching the pink light of dawn change to pearl grey and then blue. There was still no sign of him.

  She felt utterly exhausted. Worrying over Sarah, over Pietro, and the state of her marriage. She glanced at the clock. At this rate Andrew would be late for work. A small kernel of alarm started up somewhere deep in her breast. Where was he? Why hadn’t he told her he was going out, left a note or something? Surely he hadn’t left her, or done something stupid? Were their problems so serious? By the time the clock struck eight, the time he should have been at Bramley Engineering, Beth was dressed and tucking both children into the double baby buggy.

  ‘We’re going to see Aunty Tess, isn’t that nice?’ she said brightly, not wishing to frighten them with this change of routine.

  She almost ran down the lane, worrying what she would do if Tessa refused to take the children. But of course she offered right away, the moment she recognised Beth’s distress.

  ‘God knows where he is but I must find him. He has to get it into his head that the sheep are not his responsibility any more. Apart from anything else, he has a job and he should be there now.’ And I have to be sure that he hasn’t simply walked out on me, she thought. But couldn’t say that. Even to Tessa.

  ‘Beth, don’t worry. Andrew has been walking these fells all his life. He’ll be fine. He’ll be helping with the sheep, you know he will.’

  ‘I’m not worried about his safety,’ she said defiantly, eyes flashing. ‘I’m only bothered about him losing this job.’ Yet that wasn’t strictly true. Fear was a cold knot inside her, nestling against her growing anger. Tessa made no attempt to argue.

  As she climbed Dundale Knot, calling his name, Beth let the anger grow. It was much easier to deal with than the fear. Her feet slipped on the shale and the sheep cropped turf, but she didn’t slacken her pace, pushing herself harder till she had no breath left, only a pain piercing her side.

  Why was he too proud and stubborn to express his feelings? Instead, he took refuge in an impenetrable silence. Ever since Pietro had arrived he’d avoided her like the plague. They should learn to communicate more, as other couples did.

  How dare he go off like this, risking his job, his life, over animals that were no longer his responsibility. Why couldn’t he have left her a note? He’d feel the edge of her tongue when she found him.

  But when she did find him, lying flat on the ground, her one thought was to run to him, heart pounding. ‘Andrew, what is it? Are you injured?’ Oh, don’t let him be dead. Please, please God. I didn’t mean to be angry.

  ‘Hush,’ he said as she almost fell upon him. ‘You might frighten her. She’s stuck on that ledge.’

  She stared at him in astonishment, then down the side of the crag at a ewe which had got itself stranded. Tessa had been absolutely right. It was the sheep which were troubling him, and not their marriage at all. She was almost disappointed, and spoke more sharply than she intended, as a result. ‘Andrew, what are you doing here? You should be at work.’

  ‘I wish I’d brought my rope.’

  ‘Rope? Why should you carry a rope? You’re no longer a shepherd.’ She saw his face change, could have bitten her tongue off.

  He point to the terrified sheep, restlessly stamping about the narrow ledge. ‘Meg’s lost twenty sheep this week. I was helping her look for them when I found this one. Would you have me leave it to fling itself over the edge?’

  ‘I wonder if you realise the risk you’ve taken,’ Beth said, not yet ready to let her anger go, in case something worse should replace it.

  ‘What risk?’

  ‘Because one ewe was in trouble, you’ve risked losing your job.’

  ‘You are no doubt going to remind me that I have children to feed and a wife to keep. And that I don’t perform that role half so well as a certain person who apparently has money to burn.’

  Beth bit down on her lower lip, trying to remain calm. ‘Why does everything have to come back to Pietro? It really isn’t necessary, or fair.’

  He laughed as he got to his feet, which hurt more than his anger. ‘I come up these fells every morning before I go to work, if you want to know. Today it took longer because I was helping Meg out. Have you a quarrel with that?’

  Beth swallowed. She’d said enough, probably too much. This wasn’t the moment to talk about facing up to reality. ‘Shall I fetch Meg, or Tam? They’ll have ropes.’

  ‘No, I can move faster than you. You stay here.’ He gathered up a collection of small stones and started to drop them one at a time over the edge of the precipice at either side of the ledge upon which the ewe was stranded.

  ‘What are you doing? You’ll scare it to death.’

  ‘That’s the idea. If it hears stones skittering down the mountainside, it’ll be reminded of the long drop. See, she’s backed against the rock now. You’ll have to do this while I’m gone, if she starts getting restless again. We don’t want her taking fright and leaping into the unknown.’

  ‘Oh, Andrew, I’m not sure I can.’

  But he was already running down the fell, his long legs making short work of the distance. Beth lay down, as Andrew had done, then screwing up all her courage she dropped a few tiny stones at either side of the ledge. She repeated this at intervals, making sure the ewe remained where she was, shivering and clearly terrified, but pressed up tight against the rock. The responsibility seemed awesome and an eternity passed before Andrew returned, Tam with him, carrying two coils of rope and a crook.

  ‘You can do the climbing,’ Tam said. ‘You’re more nimble than me these days.’

  One rope was tied around Andrew and he began to edge himself down over the rock-face to a good position. Beth felt herself jerk with shock.

  ‘You’re not going down there?’

  Both men stared at her but said nothing. Beth bit her lip, feeling foolish and desperately afraid. She closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer. Don’t let him fall, dear God. He’s not in a good temper this morning, help him to take care and be patient. But she’d underestimated him. Andrew abseiled down the mountainside as if he were walking down Kendal Highgate.

  When he was dangling about eight or nine feet above the sheep he again dropped some stones at either side, to discourage her from moving.

  What will I do if he falls, Beth thought, panic overwhelming her, her heart beating so loud in her ears she was sure he must hear it.

  ‘Oh, do hold fast, Tam. Let me help you.’

  ‘Don’t you fret, lass. It’s fine he’ll be. Hasn’t he done this a hundred times or more?’

  ‘He may have, but I haven’t had the pleasure of watching him do it,’ she drily remarked, and clung fast to the rope along with Tam, just in case, ignoring his soft chuckles.

  Using the crook like a fishing rod Andrew lowered the rope like a lasso around the ewe’s head. The next minute he was on the l
edge beside her, wrapping the rope around her legs, and Beth gasped out loud, expecting at any moment for the ewe to run mad and knock them both off the ledge, spinning them over the crag into oblivion.

  Moments later he was climbing back, bracing himself with the rope and was again beside her. She wanted to grab him to her, smother his face with kisses, instead she scolded him quite sharply. ‘Did you have to risk your life? And for what? A damn sheep.’

  ‘Aye,’ he said, his gaze steady as he considered her distress. ‘I had to fasten her up safe. She trusted me.’

  It was Tam who eased the tension growing between them with his soft, Irish chuckle.

  ‘It’s no more than a shepherd does every day, Beth lass. Risk his life. Out in all weathers, tending the flock, keeping them safe, and rescuing one when needs be. Now, are we ready? Heave away.’

  Despite its struggles the animal was safely drawn up the side of the precipice, flustered and frightened but none the worse for its ordeal.

  ‘You did well there, lad,’ Tam said, laughing as the ewe scampered off, its dignity ruffled and no doubt its heart beating faster than it should.

  ‘Will she be all right?’ Beth wanted to know, exhausted from the emotion, let alone her own efforts on the rope. At last able to show her concern for the animal now that she knew her husband was safe.

  ‘She’ll soon settle. See, she’s found her lamb already.’ They all laughed as a noisy reunion took place.

  It was then that she happened to glance at Andrew’s face and saw it had come alive, alight with laughter for the first time in months. Nothing could have more plainly declared his unhappiness with the state of his life than to see him transformed in this moment, over the rescue of one careless ewe.

  And in that moment, it came to Beth like a blinding revelation that she loved this quiet man. Loved him with all her heart.

  Beth was in a shiver of excitement. She had never felt like this before, not just waiting for her own husband to come home. It was intoxicating, as if she had drunk a whole bottle of champagne.

  She made an extra effort with the meal that night. She’d bought some fresh plaice from the fishmonger’s van and baked an apple pie to follow. She set candles on the table, a cup of wild violets and pretty folded napkins. Then she hurried the children through their baths and off to bed early. They would have the entire evening to talk over this delicious new discovery she had made, and explore what it meant.

  How should she tell him? How would he take it? Would he be pleased, delighted, surprised? In all their marriage she’d never said the words, though she could see now that she had loved him for years. It had grown upon her quietly without her realising. He was a dear, loving man, and she adored him. It was amazing that she hadn’t realised it before. No wonder their love life had always been good. And would be even more so now.

  Dazed with delight and anticipation, she bathed and perfumed and slipped into her best dress, a pretty pink silk that rippled against her legs as she walked. It reminded her that she was still young and sexy.

  She would judge precisely the moment, say exactly the right words and see the light of love shine in his eyes. She felt warm and glowing all over just to imagine his pleasure. Everything was at last going right for them, her life falling into place. Andrew had a job, she had her workshops at Broombank, two beautiful babies, and they loved each other. What more could she ask for?

  Beth could hardly wait for the sound of his footsteps coming through the door. But when he did come, she saw at once that something was wrong. Her heart plummeted.

  ‘They’ve laid you off,’ she said, taking in at a glance the expression on his face, grey with worry and bitterness.

  ‘I’ve been late once too often it seems. Today, apparently, was the last straw. Told me I was unreliable. I told them they could keep their damned job.’

  ‘Oh, Andrew.’ All the strength went out of her and she had to sit down. Now they were right back where they started. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘No.’

  She slid the candles quietly back into the drawer and Andrew ate the delicious meal without comment. He didn’t even notice her dress or remark on how pretty she looked. Then they went to bed, each to their own side and nothing more was said. She would have to wait for another day to tell him of her discovery. This was the saddest night of her life.

  Andrew set out early the next morning to start all over again on his search for work. He hadn’t even laid the fire for her, as he usually did. Beth had meant to spend part of the day at Broombank, working on her own project, but somehow the heart had gone out of her. Everything seemed too much effort. Nothing ever lasted. Whenever she found something or someone to love and care for, she lost it. Jeremy, Pietro, even Sarah, her own sister. It was taken from her as if by some jealous gods who couldn’t bear her to be happy even for a moment. Now Andrew was slipping from her, just when she’d truly found him.

  The day seemed endless. She worried over how he was faring at finding work. Emily screamed and refused to eat her dinner. William threw a tantrum and smashed his favourite truck. And Beth cut her finger on a tin of corned beef she’d opened for their lunch. Altogether a dreadful day.

  When later Meg called at the cottage, Beth welcomed her with open arms.

  ‘Am I glad to see you. I’m suffering from a surfeit of children.’

  Meg grinned. ‘How about a breath of fresh air then? Down the lane, or over Coppergill Pass?’

  ‘Anything to take me away from stinky nappies and keep these little devils quiet.’ They dressed the children in warm jackets against the spring breeze, tucked them into the buggy. and set off along the lane, negotiated the stile with difficulty and headed uphill, over the pass.

  The smooth track rose gently at an angle, with the hump of Dundale Knot glowering above. Pretty clumps of primroses pierced the warm earth, braving the risk of a late frost, and somewhere in the depth of Brockbarrow Wood, a wood pigeon cooed.

  They kept to the lea of the dry-stone wall as they climbed, enjoying the vista of dale spread out below them. Beth could see Broombank and further down, Ashlea, where Sally Ann lived with Nick and Jan. The lush greenness of the dale contrasted sharply with the scoured bleakness of the surrounding mountains.

  ‘Oh, this is doing me good.’

  Meg stopped, her eyes on her home. ‘This is my favourite view of Broombank. I fell in love with it when I was still a girl and have enjoyed every day I’ve spent in it since.’

  ‘I can see why,’ Beth agreed.

  ‘How’s Andrew settling in to his new job?’

  An abrupt change of subject that brought, for a moment, only the response of silence as they set off again along the path.

  Beth struggled to find a tactful reply. ‘He’d rather be in farming, but accepts what must be.’ She couldn’t tell Meg that he’d just lost his job because of searching for her sheep. Yet Meg’s shrewd grey eyes were piercing.

  ‘He misses the animals. That’s plain to see.’

  Beth nodded. ‘It’s hard to see him unhappy.’

  ‘We’re grateful for his prompt action the other morning. We’d have lost that ewe otherwise, and we’re losing enough right now, one way or another.’

  ‘Did you know he’s been getting up at four every morning to check on them?’

  Meg smiled. ‘Oh, I can believe it. Farming is in his blood. We all curse them on freezing mornings and then wonder how we’d go on without them. Tam and I talk about it quite a lot. That incident, and others, have concentrated our minds even more lately.’

  Beth cast her grandmother a sideways glance. ‘Why? You’ve no problems, have you?’

  Meg frowned. ‘As I say, a few too many sheep are going missing. Maybe it’s our age. Perhaps we aren’t up to the job any more.’

  ‘I don’t believe that.’

  ‘We’re certainly not getting any younger, much as we’d like to deny it, and it gets harder to get out of bed each cold morning. Tam says, ‘tis growing soft we are.’ T
hey both laughed at her fair imitation of her husband’s soft Irish accent. ‘And shinning down mountainsides is less fun than it used to be, I can tell you. He’s been trying to persuade me to retire for ages and I’ve almost decided to do it.’

  Meg stopped and brought Beth round to face her. ‘But I must consider Broombank.’

  ‘Of course.’ Beth jiggled the buggy gently as she waited for Meg to get whatever was troubling her off her chest, not wanting her babies to wake. After a moment Meg started walking again, but was clearly in reflective mood.

  ‘Broombank was handed on to me by a fine old man whom I loved dearly. I scraped and worked hard to pay for it, a low price but it seemed a fortune to me, a young girl with no money but the luckpenny he gave me to go with it. I couldn’t let Lanky down, you see. He always believed in me, and my own father - well, least said about Joe the better.’ She smiled. ‘I couldn’t bear to lose all the work we’ve put into it over the years. It’s a different farm to the one I took on. I’d need to know it was in safe hands before I gave it up.’

  ‘Naturally. But you won’t give up. Not yet. You’re tired, that’s all, after a long hard winter.’

  ‘I’m not so sure. Visiting America made me realise there are other things Tam and I could do together, other places to see. It crossed my mind that you and Andrew might be interested.’

  Beth forgot all about jiggling her babies. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Why not? Andrew is a farmer looking for a farm. We have a farm looking for a farmer. You can continue with the workshops, as agreed, only it’ll be handier for you if you’re living on site.’

  ‘Wait a moment, I can’t quite take this in. Where would you go?’

  ‘We’ve decided to buy one of those new bungalows at the end of Quarry Row. We’re ready for a rest, though we thought you wouldn’t mind if we put in a bit of part-time labour at Broombank, without pay of course, whenever we feel inclined. Just for the love of the place.’ She grinned. ‘I can’t let go too quickly.’

  Beth’s heart was beating hard against her ribcage. ‘I don’t understand. How could we ever afford to buy it? It’s quite beyond our means. We’ve no money, none at all. And it would cost a fortune.’