Land of Milk & Honey

by William Taylor

  ‘Yes I do,’ said Jake, head bowed. The two of them sat, not touching, side by side on Jake’s bed. ‘But I do have to say one thing if I’m to be honest with you.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘If what happened tonight, the situation, if it happened again…’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I can’t promise you that I wouldn’t do the same thing again, no matter how hard I tried not to. If that bastard was in front of me, I would still want to kill him. I know I would.’

  ‘That’s understandable.’

  ‘I can promise I’d do my best to remember to think of alternatives but…’

  ‘Probably the most I can ask of you, at this stage,’ said James McGregor, wryly, his smile growing a little. ‘I suppose, in the light of what you say, I should pray that, next time, and I hope a next time never happens, the boot continues to be on the same foot! Let me just remind you, regardless of what I say, I have not the tiniest scrap of sympathy for Pearson. None at all. I am sure you dealt to him only a fraction of what he deserved.’ The old man’s small smile spread into a broad grin and his face was that of a boy. ‘I imagine it felt good!’

  ‘I think it did at the time. Must have done because I went on hammering him. But I don’t know, not really. Not now. Now I just have an empty feeling.’

  ‘I’m very glad to hear that.’ The doctor stood and smiled down at Jake. ‘Means you’re not totally beyond redemption. Come on. Cup of tea. We both need one. And then you had better get to bed.’

  ‘Shake hands,’ said Jake, and extended his hand.

  ‘Certainly. But not too hard. Now I know the power of that fist I could be in significant danger!’

  ‘I’ve got to tell you this, Jake. You’re lucky, bloody lucky I’m not here to take you in!’ said Barry Jackson. ‘Mac tells me he’s made his point to you, well and truly, so there’s not much need to say more.’

  Jake and the constable sat in a sheltered corner of the veranda. Molly Henderson had brought them tea and scones, and left them to it. ‘What did I do to him?’

  ‘Probably less than you intended. Murder may have been on your mind but he’s going to live. He’s with his mother, getting a spot of attention and, I imagine, not too tender care! Possibly a cracked rib or two, minus a front tooth, a very sore jaw, various swollen bits and pieces in sensitive areas and, I would think, a headache like he’s never had before.’ He gave a slight chuckle. ‘Nothing too serious.’

  ‘Why aren’t you going to arrest me?’

  ‘Well, you see, I can only agree with what Dr Mac said to you up to a point,’ said Barry Jackson. He took out his cigarettes, lit one, offered the pack to Jake.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jake.

  The policeman spoke very quietly. ‘I don’t care who takes on that brute or what they do to him. To my mind it would always be less than he deserved. Violence may never solve anything but that is a good and simple message that never gets through to the likes of Pearson. I know this is different from what Dr Mac has told you and I’m not going against anything he might have said. Understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’re a tough little blighter. I’ve watched you play football. Guess you’ve had to be over the years, getting through everything you’ve had to face. I’ve also watched you recover from what Pearson did to you—and I will never forget what he did and how you looked. You pulled yourself back together in fine fashion, my man, and you can be proud of yourself for that. Never looked for sympathy and, as far as I know, never whined and moaned about your lot.’

  ‘I think I did,’ Jake gave a small smile. ‘You should ask Dr Mac and Molly.’

  ‘It would have killed me to have had to arrest you for last night. Believe me. You came within a hair’s breadth of booting the brains out of the sod. You know that? Now, given the history of all this, while you might not have been found guilty of murder, it would have been manslaughter and a long time behind bars! Understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘God knows how, but you seem to have something of a friend in Gary Miller. He told me the ins and outs of the whole shooting match. Which reminds me, I had no idea you’d been an undercover agent for Churchill. Remarkable life you’ve led!’

  Jake grinned and looked at the policeman. ‘Yes, I have.’

  ‘He’s not worth it, Jake. Pearson, I mean.’

  ‘I know that,’ said Jake. ‘Look,’ he floundered. ‘Look, it won’t happen again. I promise. I said to Dr Mac that I couldn’t promise what I would do if the same thing cropped up another time…but I think I can say it won’t. When I think about it, even though I wouldn’t want to, I’d run.’

  ‘Well, then, good,’ said Barry Jackson. ‘Enough said.’

  ‘I’ve got to tell you though…I did want to kill him.’

  ‘Fair enough, on the one hand. Bloody stupid on the other. He’s not worth the mess you’d find yourself in. You may be pleased to know that Pearson is in considerably more trouble than you.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘Well, he’s on a sort of parole. Got out of borstal double quick on account of his old man needing him on the farm. And ask yourself…what’s he doing buying beer, under age and after hours? Pearson’s meant to be safely at home tucked up secure in his little bed during the hours of darkness. Don’t you worry, Jake, he’s got some very hard talking to do, that one, and at the end of the day will be lucky not to be back in borstal for another six months or so. If my word’s worth anything, that’s where he’s headed.’

  Jake’s broad smile said it all.

  ‘I thought that would please you,’ said the policeman.

  ‘Robert and me once planned how we were going to hang Darcy Pearson.’

  ‘I bet it was going to be very painful.’

  ‘Sure was. We were going to stretch his neck very, very slowly.’

  ‘Robert tells me you’re a crack shot on the old bunnies. How about you and him coming with me one weekend to chase a few deer up in the foothills? That’s my favourite sport. Mind you, these days I’ve got to get permission from my better half, and that’s not always easy.’ Jackson smiled.

  ‘That’d be great, thank you.’

  ‘I know old Mac isn’t that hot on violence and all that but I happen to know he does enjoy a nice roast of venison. The damn things are taking over up there, so we can call it a public service. Now I’d better get on my way. Got a rather sticky interview with the good folks at the pub!’

  ‘Thank you for everything.’

  ‘Nothing to thank me for, Jake.’

  ‘Could I thank you for another cigarette before you go?’

  ‘Don’t press your luck, boy. Buy your own!’ and Barry Jackson took his pack from his pocket. ‘I know Mac has told you that while he’s pretty damned disappointed at what you did, he does understand what drove you to do it. We agree on that. We also agree that should it happen again, for God’s sake, run like the bloody clappers! You know what you’re up against and you’ve the sense and wit to know that a character like Pearson hasn’t heard of the Marquess of Queensberry and you’re likely to have a broken beer bottle shoved in your face.’ He looked at Jake for a moment. ‘Mind you, boy, I wasn’t too sure after I had a look at the sod that you’d heard of the good Marquess, either!’

  Jake Neill stood on the veranda in the wintery sun, his cat, Big Black Sambo, sitting beside him, surveying his territory. Jake’s steel-grey eyes were hard and cold as he watched, taking in Darcy Pearson’s every pained movement as he hobbled, aided by his mother, from the doctor’s surgery. Pearson stopped to rest for a moment and caught sight of Jake. Their two eyes locked. Nothing was said. Mrs Pearson pointedly looked in the opposite direction.

  Satisfied at what he’d seen, Jake turned and walked into the house. Big Black Sambo stayed where he was.

  XI

  My dear son Jacob

  Thank you for the telegram that come on the same day as your Christmas parcel which was a month late but that is O.K. Two Christmasses you
been gone now. Time flies. I was pleased to here you got this school cert not that I know what it is but I work out is the exams you have had and passed. This is good and you are a credit. The good doctor must be proud of you like me. Might be one day you will be a doctor and that would be handy for me ha ha. But I do not know. It takes a lot of time I feel sure and I think you will go to work now. You are old enough and with an exam like you got can get a job at the factory where you are that makes all that butter and you can make good money. What say you?

  I must say it is good to know you are fine. I must say it is not good I never know about Janny. Not one word if she is live or if she is dead. It is like I never had a girl and at times it gets me down when I think of it. But then I think it is better off for her where she lives and if she gets to write in a year or so when she knows how that is fine. It’s a funny old world ha ha.

  The new job in the box factory is fine and I don’t have to stand all the time. This is long for me and I shall stop now. I like your letters. You are the clever one.

  Give my wishes to the doctor and to Mrs Molly.

  On a wing and a prayer (one leg and a prayer ha ha)

  Your Dad X.

  ‘Never seen that red dahlia flower so well. What’ve you done to it, lad?’ asked James McGregor, surveying a bank of blooms.

  ‘I just did as you told me.’ Jake pointed. ‘That whole lot there got God knows how many wheelbarrows of horse shit in spring.’

  ‘Manure,’ said Mac.

  ‘That’s what I said,’ grinned Jake. ‘It would have been easier to get one of next-door’s horses, tie it up in the garden and tell it to get to work. That horse manure,’ he stressed the word, ‘near broke my back!’

  ‘Nonsense. Damned good exercise, and it’s worked a treat,’ said the doctor. ‘The place is looking good, boy. You’ve done well. Let’s have a look at the pond. My favourite spot. A good garden, Jacob, is balm for the soul.’

  ‘But not for the back.’

  ‘Stop moaning, boy. From what I see, you enjoy every moment of it and get as much enjoyment out of the old place as I do. Go fetch a bottle of beer from the house. Hot work this gardening.’

  ‘Well,’ said Jake. ‘It is for one of us!’

  They settled down and drank their beer by the lily pond, enjoying the warmth of the summer evening.

  ‘You miss your old man, don’t you?’ James McGregor asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Jake thought for a moment. ‘Why d’you ask just now?’

  ‘I know you had a letter, lad. The smile is not quite as bright?’

  ‘Well, he was all Janice and me had when everything was over. Funny in a way. He was the one sent us away, didn’t he?’

  ‘For the best possible reasons, lad. There was your future, and that of the little one, your sister, to think of. And how was he, poor man, to care for the two of you?’

  ‘I know all that. I know he did it for the best. But we didn’t ask to be sent away. Not that he knew it, but he sent me to bloody hell, didn’t he? And I don’t know where Janice is. I’ll never know where Janice is,’ Jake was silent for a moment. ‘It was sheer good luck I ended up here with someone who…well, cares for me and, I think, well…likes me.’

  ‘Go on, laddie, you can say it,’ the old man chuckled. ‘Someone who loves you, is what you wanted to say.’

  ‘Don’t put words in my mouth, Dr Mac.’ Jake smiled at his friend.

  ‘Do you miss the old country?’

  ‘England? Hell no!’ Very firm. ‘Not ever. OK, so I’m English and I don’t hate the place but I didn’t have much of a life there, did I? Look at everything I have now. I’d never have that at home. I’d be working by now, probably somewhere like the box factory my dad works in. I wouldn’t be still at school. I know I’m lucky, bloody lucky, this is my home.’

  James McGregor looked hard at Jake. ‘Thank you for saying that, boy. That’s the first time I’ve heard you put it that way. It is your home. It always will be. Pour me another beer. Go get another bottle. I’m thirsty.’

  Jake brought back two more bottles. ‘In case you’re very thirsty,’ and he laughed. ‘You think about it. Think of what, thanks to you, I can do here. I’m still at school. I live in this grand place with a grand old gentleman,’ he winked broadly at James McGregor. ‘A grand old bad-tempered gent who drinks too much beer, but I can ignore that…’

  ‘Yes. You’d better, if you want to go on drinking your share of his beer!’

  ‘Robert and me are going to play golf this year. His uncle’s got it all jacked-up. There’s no way I could even dream of that at home. I play rugby. Wouldn’t ever do that at home,’ he smiled broadly. ‘God, if I was lucky I might get to boot some sissy round ball on a flattened bomb site! Got everything here. Barry even takes us deer stalking in the hills…’

  ‘As nice a bit of venison as I’ve ever tasted, that last one.’

  ‘Should’ve been. Not much more than a poor little baby, but it didn’t suffer,’ said Jake. ‘But above all, because of you, I seem to be able to do whatever I want to do. He grinned. ‘And even if it is only Weatherley District High, I’m getting an education.’

  ‘You’re getting that through no effort of mine, lad. It’s your hard work paying off. Great results. Which brings me to the point, young man.’

  ‘What point?’

  ‘What’s this damn fool notion of yours Molly’s told me about?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Jake, looking the other way.

  ‘Don’t lie to me, sir.’

  Jake turned back to face the doctor and blushed bright red beneath his summer tan. ‘I didn’t want to tell you. Not yet.’

  ‘Not yet? When, then? After you’d fully qualified. Didn’t cross your mind I’d get a mite suspicious as the years rolled by; not suspect anything until the glorious day you turned up on the doorstep, your little suitcase in hand and a brand-new stethoscope dangling round your neck?’

  ‘I want to be a doctor,’ said Jake.

  ‘Over my dead body,’ said Dr Mac.

  ‘You can’t stop me,’ said Jake.

  ‘I can give it a damn good try,’ said Dr Mac. ‘Why, for God’s sake? Is it simply because you’re living here with an old nitwit who didn’t have the sense to make a better choice when he was your age?’

  ‘Yep,’ said Jake. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘We will talk more of this, boy,’ said James McGregor. ‘Help me up. The sun’s shed its last rays for the day. A bloody doctor? Fiddlesticks and phooey! As if one in the family weren’t enough. Mind you,’ he chuckled. ‘Rate I’m degenerating, there may be no need to worry on that count. Only ever be one in the damn family! Come on!’ he ordered.

  EARLY SUMMER 1950

  The tall young man lounged against the car, finding little to enjoy in this one spot he hated more than any other place. The sun shone, but, even so, he shivered slightly in its pleasant warmth. He lit a cigarette and turned so he faced away from the old man who clumped up and down the pot-holed asphalt strip behind him. He checked his watch and muttered a curse, ‘Bloody train had to be bloody late today, of all bloody days!’ He felt even sorrier for himself. The old man wandered off and leaned against a fence a hundred yards or more away. He examined a crop of swedes.

  Jake began to pace what passed for a platform and, as always when he came to this place, failed to rid his mind of the image of a much smaller boy, alone and frightened, in a Harris tweed jacket with his small, battered suitcase beside him.

  ‘No, Mac. Please, Mac,’ he’d pleaded. ‘Not today. It’s my last match for the school. The last one, ever! Pukeonake High, and maybe this time we’ll beat the sods. Gotta be there, I’m the captain, for God’s sake! Please. Can’t you phone your friend and ask him to make it later in the week?’ It was bound to be old Judge Freddie again, coming for a few days of fishing, of swapping yarns and drinking Mac’s whisky.

  ‘Impossible, laddie.’

  ‘Barbara can drive you.’

  ‘B
arbara’s off and away. You know as well as I do she’s doing a stint up at the hospital while old Lil’s down country doing what she can to learn what it takes to be a nurse in the second half of the century. Bloody miracle needed there!’

  ‘Molly? Hell’s bells, Mac, all she’s doing is painting that other bedroom that doesn’t even need it.’

  ‘Molly’s up to her eyeballs in…No, lad. Afraid it’s got to be you. Let that be an end to the matter,’ brooking no argument. ‘Sorry about your jolly game, but I’m sure there’s a way around an hour or so of your absence. Do your best to see it’s your team gets to bat on Thursday. Cheat, if you have to. Get your mate Robert on to it. He’ll talk a way around it, if anyone can. No one is one hundred percent indispensable. Not even you.’

  Life was quietening for the old man. Early in the New Year he would take on a younger partner. ‘She’ll be doing the legwork, the house calls, the hospital. Just be keeping enough to myself to keep my hand in and stay alive.’

  ‘Reckon she’ll do the lawns and gardens?’ Jake had asked.

  ‘May be stretching it a bit far. But that side of it’s not my worry, young man. You want to walk out on me, it’s your job to find a suitable replacement before you take off. Whoever you find had better be bloody good.’

  ‘I feel sorry for them already,’ Jake smiled. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll find the poor little sod and train him well before I go.’ He looked at his old friend. ‘You know…you’ve only got to say don’t go and I won’t.’

  The doctor gave a chuckle. ‘Put that way, Jacob, you don’t really give me much option, do you? Of course you’ll be going, boy. It’s the way of things. I hate to say it, but, you’ll make a damn fine doctor one of these days. Dammit. Would have wished you’d chosen otherwise, but…I’ll be doing what I can to help you along the way.’