Above the Harvest Moon

by Rita Bradshaw

  As Christmas approached, Hannah deliberated over whether to go with Jake and Joe when they visited the house in Wayman Street. Jake had told her it would be for an hour or so on Christmas Day afternoon. Although she was aching to see Rose again - and Naomi too, who had been unable to come to the farm since she’d been ill - the thought of facing Adam and his new wife was daunting. The wound was still raw and she was worried she would make a fool of herself. Eventually, though, the decision was taken out of her hands. Seamus suffered a mild heart attack just before Christmas and the doctor confined him to bed, insisting he had to remain there for at least a week. As neither Jake nor Hannah trusted the irascible old man to do what he was told if he was left in the house alone, it was agreed Hannah would stay behind and keep an eye on him.

  She waved Jake and Joe off after Christmas lunch with a determined smile, watching the horse and trap until it was out of sight. Willing herself not to cry, she returned to the kitchen and cleared away the remains of the meal. She filled the cats’ bowls with chopped-up turkey and watched them eat the treat as she tried to sort out her feelings. She was relieved she hadn’t gone but at the same time achingly disappointed.

  Telling herself not to be so silly, she put the kettle on the hob to make a cup of tea. It was a bitterly cold day but bright, the driving snow and wind of the last weeks having subsided. Everything was frozen outside but she didn’t mind that. It was infinitely preferable to the acres of mud of the autumn when her legs had been constantly whipped by the wet hem of her coat and her face blotched and numb with cold.

  She stood for a moment at the kitchen window. Plumes of smoke rose from the chimneys of the labourers’ cottages but no one was about. The animals still had to be fed and cared for even on Christmas Day and she knew everyone had been up at the crack of dawn as usual, but for now Seamus’s men were enjoying the luxury of a Christmas afternoon doze in front of the fire after their turkey lunch. Come evening they would turn out again.

  After mashing the tea she took Seamus a cup, leaving it on the little table at the side of the bed when she saw he was asleep. She stood for a moment looking down at him before she left the room. She had been shocked when Jake had told her of Seamus’s heart condition, she had thought the farmer fit and well on the whole, in spite of Jake mentioning the doctor had told him to slow down months before. But all old folk slowed down. She hadn’t realised there was anything more sinister to it than that.

  She would look after him now she knew. She nodded mentally to the thought. He had been so kind to her, as had Jake, and she would make sure he didn’t do too much once he was on his feet again, even though he’d probably get irritable and fractious with her because of it. Smiling ruefully, she left the room and returned to the kitchen. She had actually sat down with a cup of tea in her hand when a voice from the direction of the scullery said, ‘Hello, Hannah,’ causing her to jump out of her skin and send the tea splashing onto the table.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I came in the kitchen and then I heard footsteps so I thought I’d better make myself scarce in case it was the farmer.’ Adam came fully into the kitchen, his eyes never leaving her shocked face.

  ‘What - what are you doing here?’ She’d risen to her feet, her hand at her throat, shocked he’d entered the house without being invited.

  He returned her stare for some seconds before he said, ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

  ‘Jake and Joe aren’t here, they’ve gone to—’

  ‘I know where they’ve gone, I watched them leave. Mam said last night they were coming over this afternoon. That’s why I’m here now.’

  His manner wasn’t what she would have expected. She had always imagined, in the moments she let herself think of him, that if they met he would be shamefaced, sheepish, even remorseful. His cool effrontery worked like a shot of adrenaline and now her voice was stronger when she said, ‘I don’t understand why you have come, Adam, but I think you ought to leave.’

  ‘Just like that? The snow’s feet deep in places and I’ve walked over three miles to come and see you.’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t have. You have a wife, a bairn on the way—’

  ‘You don’t need to tell me that.’ The look on his handsome face was aggressive. She had never imagined in her wildest dreams she would be frightened of Adam but she had prickles of fear running up and down her spine. ‘If anyone knows that, I do. And all this is your fault, you know that, don’t you? You’ve brought it on yourself, on both of us. I didn’t want it this way, you know I didn’t. But would you be kind to me? No.You drove me to the likes of Lily, damn you. I saw her so we could be all right when we were together, that’s all. Nothing would have come of it, I’d have waited for you, but she had to go and fall. I think she did it on purpose. In fact I’m sure she did.’

  ‘I don’t want to know.’

  ‘I don’t want her, Hannah. I never have.’

  She could hardly believe he was here saying these things, that he was blaming her for his unfaithfulness. ‘She’s expecting your bairn so how can you say you never wanted her?’

  ‘Oh that, that’s nowt. Any lass would have done for that, it was just that she pestered me day and night. But it’s you I love, you know that. And you love me, you know you do. All this about Daniel Osborne don’t hold no water. Our Joe can’t lie to save his life. I know you still love me.’

  ‘I want you to go, Adam. Right now. Just go.’

  ‘Listen to me, hear what I’ve got to say.’ His voice low now, he said, ‘I’m sorry, Hannah. I didn’t mean for things to turn out the way they have. If she hadn’t tricked me, you’d be none the wiser. I’d do anything to alter things but I can’t.’

  So it was Lily’s fault now. First hers, now Lily’s. Anyone’s but Adam’s. For the first time since Joe had told her about the other girl, she found she could think about her without her stomach clenching with jealousy and hate.

  Whether Adam mistook her silence for encouragement she didn’t know, but the next moment he took a step or two towards her, his voice holding the beguiling note he did so well as he said softly, ‘We could still meet sometimes, Hannah, just the two of us. No one need know. I wouldn’t expect anything, not a thing, but we could talk and that. I love you and you love me, we can’t let anything stand in the way of that. And who knows what the future might bring? Only last week a young lass up the street died having a bairn, it happens.’

  Appalled into speech, she said, ‘Stop it, stop that talk right now. You’re a married man and there is nothing between us now, nothing, nor will there be even if you became free tomorrow.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.You’re just saying it to punish me and I can understand that, it’s natural. But the odd hour sometimes wouldn’t hurt anyone. Come on, lass, say you will. You know you want to. It can’t end like this. You don’t want that any more than I do.’

  His absolute confidence in his power over her robbed her of speech for a moment. He stood scrutinising her through lowered lids and she noticed he had dressed up. He must have got his suit out of pawn, probably for Christmas Eve Mass. Such was her complete disillusionment she didn’t fool herself it was specially to see her.

  ‘I don’t want you any more, Adam.’ It came out more baldly than she’d intended and she saw he was taken aback.‘Whatever was between us, it’s gone. Dead. I don’t know what it was, to be truthful, not in view of what’s happened. All I want is for you to go back to her, to your wife.’

  ‘I know you don’t mean that.’

  But he was uncertain, she could read it in his eyes. He’d begun to realise he couldn’t sweet-talk her.

  ‘I do mean it,’ she said flatly, praying her voice wouldn’t tremble. ‘I wouldn’t want you to touch me now. I’d feel mucky, dirty.’

  ‘Because I’m married?’

  ‘Not just because of that.’

  He stared back at her.‘Is it because of him, that Daniel Osborne? The first time I saw him I knew he wanted you. Have you been carrying
on behind my back?’

  His audacity was amazing.‘There is nothing between Daniel and me, if you want to know. Is that the only reason you can come up with for me not wanting you, that I’m seeing someone else? Well, I’m not. This has nothing to do with anyone except me and you. I really don’t want you any more, it’s as simple as that. You’re a liar and a cheat.You must have been carrying on with Lily Hopkins for weeks and weeks, likely others as well. You disgust me, Adam Wood. All right?’

  He swore, the profanity harsh. ‘I’ve risked plenty to come here today like this.’

  ‘No one asked you to.’

  ‘And that’s your answer?’

  ‘Aye, it is.’

  ‘You smug little piece. There’s a side to you you’ve kept hidden.You’ve a hard streak running through you, I see it now. It makes me wonder what really happened that night with your uncle. Did you lead him on, was that it?’

  She gulped, not because she didn’t know what to say but because his words had hurt her so much. She felt the colour sweeping over her face and she had the urge to walk across the kitchen and smack his face, but somehow she knew that was what he was expecting. He’d turn it to his advantage somehow. It would show weakness and she mustn’t do that. ‘Get out.’ She raised her chin in a gesture that was characteristic of her. ‘And don’t come back.’

  ‘And if I don’t want to?’

  She didn’t really think he would go so far as to try to attack her. Nevertheless she said,‘I was taking Farmer Shawe a cup of tea when you hid in the scullery.’ His face reddened. ‘He’s in the sitting room and these days there’s always a shotgun to hand since we’ve been having trouble with poachers.’ This last had the advantage of being true. ‘I would suggest you leave now and quietly. He wouldn’t take kindly to someone breaking into his house. I only have to call and he’ll be down.’

  ‘I didn’t break in.’

  ‘Well, you weren’t invited so how else would you term it?’

  He stared at her for one moment more and then stalked past her, his face black with rage. It wasn’t until the kitchen door had banged and silence had reigned for some long seconds that Hannah let out her breath in a shaking sigh and dropped onto one of the hard-backed chairs.

  The things he had said, the way he had tried to blame everything on her. Of a sudden she jumped up and hurried to the door, sliding the bolts at the top and bottom before gathering Buttons in her arms and sitting in Jake’s armchair. She held the cat’s soft, warm body to her and cried and cried.

  How could she have imagined she loved him? How? But she had. She had thought he was her sun, moon and stars.

  Her eyes felt sore and her face was swollen after the bout of crying was exhausted.Telling herself she mustn’t let Jake or Joe know Adam had come to see her, she bathed her face for ten minutes in cold water before going to her room and brushing out her hair and fastening it once again into a bun at the back of her head.

  What a Christmas Day! Every other Christmas Day afternoon she had spent with her Aunt Aggie, sitting on her bed while they read her aunt’s magazines and ate sugared almonds and chocolate. Had her aunt received the letters she had written since being at the farm? She hadn’t replied, so maybe not. Oh, why were people so horrible? Human beings could be so much worse than the animals. She had said this to Jake in the aftermath of finding out about Lily, and he had agreed with her.

  She stuck the last pin in her hair and stared at her reflection in the spotted mirror of the dressing table. She didn’t ask herself at this moment which human beings belonged in this category but she knew Adam was only one of them. She felt tired, very tired but it wasn’t a physical thing.

  But there were good folk too. She nodded to the girl in the mirror. Look how Clara and Frank treated Joe as one of their own, and Daniel had gone out of his way to show Joe the ropes. And then there was Jake. The thought of his big broad-shouldered figure made her wish he was home. She felt safe when he was around.

  She would have a word with him about her Aunt Aggie. See if he could come up with a way she could make sure her letters got to her aunt. Perhaps Jake would agree to go round and put one in her aunt’s hand himself.

  No. She immediately dismissed the thought. She couldn’t ask him to do that. It would be too much of an imposition. But neither could she go. It wasn’t the possibility of seeing her uncle and mother which deterred her. She could grit her teeth and cope with that, unpleasant though it would be. But if she saw her aunt face to face there was a chance the truth about her abrupt departure from the house might come out, and it would break Aunt Aggie’s heart. All in all, perhaps it was best to leave things as they were. But what must her aunt be thinking?

  She shook her head at her muddled thoughts. Why did everything seem so complicated? Sometimes she felt her life was a battleground governed as much by her thinking as events. But she was not going to let her uncle and mother, or Adam either, spoil her life here. It was up to her how much she let past happenings dwell on her mind and she wasn’t going to give any of them the satisfaction of crumbling. This was a new life, a new start. She had to look at it like that and make the most of it.

  She turned from the mirror and walked to the door. She was going to make a fresh pot of tea and sit in front of the fire with the cats for company and read the latest copy of the Woman’s Weekly Jake had bought her a few days ago when he’d gone into town. Admittedly there were a hundred and one things needing her attention but this was Christmas Day after all. Perhaps her aunt was reading the same magazine. ‘Happy Christmas, Aunt Aggie,’ she murmured, walking down the stairs. ‘Know I’m thinking about you today and that I love you.’

  In fact Hannah had been on Agatha’s mind all day. As the weeks had gone on, Agatha had become convinced an argument with Miriam wouldn’t have prevented Hannah from contacting them or at least writing. No, there was more to this than met the eye but with Edward and Miriam seemingly content with the current state of affairs, there was little she could do, bedridden as she was. But if she could just see Hannah, talk to her, she was sure she could convince her niece to come back home.

  She said as much to Edward when he brought her an afternoon cup of tea but in a roundabout way. The last weeks had taught her her husband was touchy about the lass’s departure. She rather thought Edward looked at it as a personal insult, as though Hannah had thrown all their love and concern back in their faces.

  Once he had seated himself at the side of the bed with his own tea, she let him take a couple of sips before she said, ‘I’ve been thinking about Hannah. She was right pleased with that bracelet you picked out for her last Christmas. Do you remember?’

  ‘Bracelet? Oh aye, that’s right.’

  ‘I wonder if she still wears it. I mean it’s not as if she fell out with us, is it? Just her mam.’

  His eyes were staring at her now and he said quietly, ‘Likely she looks on the three of us as one and the same.’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so.’ There was a note of indignation in Agatha’s voice. ‘I for one always got on with her extremely well and so did you, didn’t you? She helped you in the shop, you worked together and never a cross word.’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘So doesn’t it seem strange to you that she hasn’t at least written to us if not her mother?’

  ‘Strange? Not really.’

  ‘Well, it does to me.’

  ‘Aggie, we’ve had this conversation more times than I’ve had hot dinners.’ He paused, turning his eyes from her and looking to the other side of the room as he went on, ‘If Hannah doesn’t want to see us or write, that’s up to her. You have to accept that.’

  ‘Well, it seems to me you’ve certainly had no difficulty accepting it,’ she said sharply.‘Perhaps I can’t write folk out of my life so speedily as you.’ It was rare, almost unheard of for her to speak to him in such a fashion and for a moment the look on his face made her want to put out her hand and smooth his hair back from his brow and tell him it didn’t matter.
But it did matter, and since she had become convinced Miriam was more to her husband than merely his sister-in-law, the tenderness she’d felt for him, a tenderness which had formed a large part of her love and which had been faintly maternal in its substance, had withered and died. And so she continued to sip her tea before she said, ‘I don’t believe Miriam, Edward. There, I’ve said it. You know I’ve thought it for weeks and now I’ve said it and you can think what you like. Miriam isn’t what she seems in more ways than one.’

  His eyes shot to her face with the last words. ‘Now, now,’ he blustered, ‘don’t take on. I know Miriam can be a funny one at times but we’d have been hard pressed without her, lass. Fair’s fair.’