Above the Harvest Moon

by Rita Bradshaw

  ‘Jake, I think we’re going to need a doctor.’ Frank’s voice was quiet but his tone brought everyone’s eyes to him. ‘The lad’s in a bad way.’

  Joe was in a bad way, the worst way. His pulse was so feeble it was barely there. Hannah met them at the kitchen door, she’d had her work cut out preventing Seamus from getting out of bed to see what was happening. Her face ashen, she watched as Frank laid Joe in one of the big armchairs. Both Jake and Joe were covered in blood but beyond telling her that Daniel’s brother had taken the horse and trap to fetch the doctor, Jake said nothing. He knelt by the side of Joe’s chair and when Hannah tried to bathe the ugly gash on Joe’s head, he brushed her aside and began to do it himself. When the gash was clean, he wound a piece of clean linen round Joe’s forehead but again he would let no one touch the unconscious man but himself.

  Frank went to let Seamus know what was what. When he reappeared in the kitchen, Hannah was standing by the kitchen table gnawing at her thumb, watching Jake stroke the hair back from Joe’s forehead, saying over and over, ‘Joe, Joe, come on. Come on, Joe. Please.’

  She raised agonised eyes to Frank.

  He walked over to Jake and, bending down, said quietly, ‘Shall I carry him upstairs so we can lie him flat?’ Surreptitiously he felt for a pulse. But even before he confirmed there was none, he had known.The lolling head and complete lack of movement had told him.

  He stood up, looked at Hannah and shook his head. She stared back at him, her eyes wide, unable to believe what he was inferring. Leaning on the table for support, she watched as Frank knelt down by Jake. ‘Jake, lad, come and sit down a minute, I’ll see to Joe.’

  ‘No.’ Jake’s voice was thick. ‘No, don’t touch him.’

  ‘He’s resting, lad. You can’t do anything more until the doctor gets here and there’s a deep cut on your head needs seeing to.’

  ‘No.’

  Frank straightened, casting Hannah a helpless glance.

  She thought for a moment, trying to bring reason to mind through the whirling horror in her head. She left the room, ran upstairs and fetched a blanket. Back in the kitchen she walked across to the armchair and draped the blanket over Joe so that only his head was visible, saying, ‘There, there, he’s more comfortable now. Let him sleep, Jake. Come and sit down and I’ll see to your head.’ She could see various cuts and scrapes and his lip was split, but above his ear on the damaged side of his face the flesh had opened to reveal a two-inch gash which was oozing blood.

  He looked up at her. ‘He’s just asleep.’

  ‘Aye, yes, he’s just asleep.’

  ‘He shouldn’t have been there. It was supposed to be just me an’ Dan. I told him . . .’

  She nodded but the pleading tone in his voice caused her to press her fingers tightly against her lip before she could say, ‘Let me see to your head now, eh? Please, Jake.’

  For a moment she didn’t think he had heard her and then he straightened. Hannah led him to one of the hard-backed chairs at the kitchen table as though he was a child, pushing him gently into the seat. She began to clean the cut while Frank looked on, his weather-beaten face creased with concern.

  Jake was feeling muzzy-headed, sick, faint, but mainly frightened, very frightened. Of what he wouldn’t let himself think, he only knew there was a terrible something pressing down on him but if he didn’t acknowledge it, if he gave it no room in his head, everything would be all right. Joe was sleeping, that was all, and who wouldn’t after a crack on the head like that? But the doctor would be here soon, and say what you like about the fees he charged, he was a good doctor, was old Stefford. He’d been Seamus’s doctor for donkey’s years and he didn’t beat about the bush. He liked that about Stefford. He liked straight talking.

  Round and round his thoughts ran while Hannah silently bathed his head. Then she made a pot of tea and added a good measure of whisky to his. She was a good lass, Hannah. Older than her years. She didn’t seem too keen on Daniel, poor devil, but lately he had thought her and Joe might get together now Joe had begun to cut the ties with Adam. Joe liked her, he was sure of it, and if it had to be anyone, he’d like it to be Joe. If nothing else, it would put paid to the secret dream that had begun to plague him. Damn it, why didn’t Joe stir? But Clara always said sleep was the best medicine. Aye, that’s what Clara said and she was a wise old biddy.

  Frank went up to speak to Seamus once more but apart from that the three of them sat quietly waiting for the doctor in the kitchen, the soft glow from the fire in the range and the steady ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece belying the desperate circumstances.

  When they heard the horse and trap, Frank went outside and met the doctor in the farmyard. Dr Stefford was a big man, robust and hearty with a booming voice, but when he came into the kitchen it was quietly and it was not to the figure draped in the blanket he looked but Jake. His voice calm and matter-of-fact, he said, ‘Hear you’ve had trouble with poachers again then.

  Cunning so-an’-sos, the lot of them. Let’s have a look at you, shall we?’

  ‘Not me. It’s Joe.’

  ‘Aye, I know, I know, but we’ll see to the walking wounded first.’

  ‘No, you don’t understand.’

  ‘Aye, I do, lad.’ The doctor’s voice was soothing and he glanced at Hannah as he said, ‘Concussion, and we’ll need to stitch the cut above his ear.’ Turning again to Jake as he delved into his big black leather bag, he said, ‘I want you to take these pills while I look at young Joe there. All right?’

  He nodded at Hannah, who had fetched a glass of water, and watched as she got Jake to take the pills and swallow from the glass several times. ‘Nasty business, Jake,’ he said softly. ‘Did you get a good look at them?’

  Jake stared at him.Why wasn’t he seeing to Joe? He’d brought him here to see to Joe.

  When Jake did not reply, Dr Stefford looked at him a few moments more and then turned to the slight body swathed in the blanket. After no more than thirty seconds he straightened. His tone as soft as before, he said, ‘You know he’s gone, Jake.’

  ‘No.’ Jake looked as though he himself was facing death. Suddenly he swung his arm violently, sending the glass and cups on the table crashing to the floor. ‘No, he’s sleeping,’ he repeated, getting to his feet.

  ‘Sit down before you fall down, man. Those pills I gave you would knock out an elephant.’

  In spite of the doctor’s words, it took both Frank and himself to force Jake down into the seat again. The tears had welled up in Hannah’s eyes and were trickling down her cheeks, but she didn’t know who she was crying for the most, Joe or Jake.

  ‘He’s gone, Jake,’ Dr Stefford said again. ‘There’s nothing you or I or anyone else can do about it. I don’t quite understand why because his injury doesn’t look that bad, but believe me, he has gone.’

  ‘It was one blow to the head, that’s all. Just one blow.’ Jake’s voice was becoming increasingly slurred. ‘Perhaps - perhaps he’s in a coma.’

  ‘It’s no coma.’And at Hannah’s involuntary movement of protest, Dr Stefford turned to her, saying, ‘He has to face it now, lass, hard though it is. In a minute or two those pills will take effect and it’s important he understands. I’m sorry, I’m sorry to the heart of me because I know he thought a bit of the lad but there it is.’

  ‘It’s my fault.’

  ‘What?’ The doctor screwed up his face. ‘Don’t be daft, man. Frank here tells me you didn’t intend for the lad to be there.’

  ‘It’s my fault. I brought him here. To - to the farm.’

  ‘Because he couldn’t face another day in the mine,’ Hannah put in swiftly. ‘He was desperate, you know he was, Jake. If it hadn’t been here it would have been somewhere else.’

  ‘No.’ His eyes were blinking as he tried to keep them open. ‘No, he wouldn’t have left the mine and Adam but for me. You - you said so yourself.’

  ‘This is not down to you, Jake. Get that clear in your head once and for all.’
Dr Stefford walked across and gently pulled the blanket over Joe’s face before turning and saying, ‘Jake?’

  Jake’s chin was resting on his collarbone, his eyes closed. The pills had done their work. Without further ado, Dr Stefford stitched the wound above his ear, after which he helped Frank carry Jake to his room. Leaving Frank to take Jake’s boots off and undress him, the doctor spent a few minutes with Seamus who was greatly distressed by the night’s happenings.

  It was some ten minutes later before he returned to the kitchen. He found Hannah alone, Frank having gone home to break the news to Clara. Hannah knew the little woman would take it hard, she and Frank had been very fond of Joe.

  ‘I’m very sorry.’ Dr Stefford looked at the young girl he had come to know and like in the last twelve months since she had come to work for Seamus. ‘It’s a tragedy for all concerned.’

  ‘He’ll blame himself for ever.’

  ‘No, not once he’s had time to think it over. He’s an intelligent man, is Jake. That’s what sets him apart from most of the fellows on the farm. Oh, they’re good enough, don’t get me wrong, salt of the earth and all that, but Jake’s different.’

  ‘We had a talk earlier.’ She began to cry as her tongue loosened and she gabbled, ‘I said to him that Joe would never have found another job by himself, that it was down to Jake he had come to the farm. And it was, it was, but in a good way, that’s what I meant. In a good way. And Joe, he’s only just turned nineteen. Nineteen.’

  ‘I know, lass.’

  ‘And now Mr Wood and maybe the others too will blame Jake. They won’t remember all he’s done for them. They’d be in the workhouse now if it wasn’t for him.’

  It was a little while before she calmed down and then she sat with her hand tightly across her mouth as though to prevent more words. Dr Stefford made another pot of tea and he was just about to pour them a cup when a tap at the kitchen door announced Clara’s arrival.

  ‘Ee, lass, lass.’ Clara took Hannah into her arms, holding her tight. ‘What a thing to happen, I can’t believe it.’ Both women’s faces were wet when they drew apart.

  Dr Stefford poured three cups of tea. He let Clara and Hannah drink theirs before he said, ‘I shall make arrangements for the body to be collected early tomorrow morning before Jake comes to. Because of the circumstances there will have to be a post-mortem. You understand?’

  Hannah nodded. Joe. Oh, Joe. Like Clara, she couldn’t take in the enormity of what had occurred.

  ‘Jake should sleep until at least midday and I should be back before then. The concussion may or may not have cleared but we’ll see how things are.’ Glancing at Clara, he added,‘I don’t want Hannah left alone tonight.’ He didn’t add, ‘Until the body is collected,’ but both women knew what he meant.

  ‘I shall be staying, doctor,’ said Clara firmly.

  He nodded.‘I shall notify the police and doubtless they will be here first thing in the morning. Now, could you direct me to the home of the other young man concerned? I would like to check him over before I leave.’

  When the doctor had gone, Hannah and Clara continued to sit quietly together. The cats had made themselves scarce earlier with all the hullabaloo but now they crept into the kitchen. After circling Joe’s armchair, they made for the back door, ears laid flat against their heads as they miaowed to be let out.

  ‘They know,’ Clara said as Hannah opened the door. ‘Animals are far more intuitive than folk give ’em credit for.The night Isaac’s wife died his whippets howled for hours, unearthly sound it was and nothing would shut them up. And then there was the time Neville Kirby turned the tractor over and was trapped underneath. Not used to it, see, it being new to the farm in them days. One of the farm dogs, nice old bitch called Josie if I remember right, she went and barked and nipped at some of the men’s trousers who were working in one of the barns till they followed her to the field. Saved Neville’s life she did that day. I used to see Sybil taking her a bowl of whatever they had for dinner for years after, right until the dog died.’

  As Hannah reseated herself, Clara glanced at her white face.‘Why don’t you go and get some rest, hinny?’ she said softly. ‘Likely tomorrow will be a full day.’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘No, I’ll stay.’

  ‘You can’t do owt, lass, an’ I’ll come and wake you once it starts to get light.’

  Again Hannah shook her head. ‘I want to stay, Clara. I - I know it sounds daft, but I think Joe would want me to. I’m almost family, I grew up with them all and I don’t want him to be alone tonight. Oh, I know you’d be here and he thought the world of you—’

  ‘Don’t frash yourself, hinny.’ Clara patted her arm. ‘You stay if you want. Look, I’ll make another pot of tea, how about that?’

  Hannah didn’t want more tea but she knew the little woman was as upset as any of them and this was her way of coping, to be busy. ‘Thank you. I - I guess it’s going to be a long night. It was good of you to come over, Clara.’

  ‘Oh, lass, lass, would that I could do more.’ Clara’s bottom lip trembled and she hastily rose from the table. ‘It’s a bad business, this. A bad business.’

  Yes, it was a bad business. Hannah’s mind had cleared, despite her grief and shock. It told her that, terrible though the tragedy was, the repercussions for the man presently lying in a drugged sleep upstairs would be worse. Adam and his father would blame Jake for giving Joe a job at the farm, she knew that, but if his mother added to the guilt which Jake had immediately taken upon himself, what would that do to him? Over the last twelve months since she had lived in such close proximity to him, she had come to realise he was far from being the cold, self-assured individual he presented to the world, a figure who remained aloof and untouched by the normal ups and downs which were most folk’s lot. That was just his outer shell, but like a turtle he had a soft centre that was as vulnerable as the next person’s - more probably, in Jake’s case.

  She stared at Clara who was busying herself at the range making the tea, her back to the room. Hannah’s heart was beginning to thump hard; she knew that if it had been in her power she would have done anything to protect Jake from the condemnation that would undoubtedly come from his stepfather and Adam, maybe from all of them. He had had enough to put up with in his life; this wasn’t fair.

  Then a question came, sharp, piercing: shouldn’t she be more upset about Joe’s death than how Jake was feeling?

  She was upset, she answered herself. Of course she was, terribly upset, but like Dr Stefford had said, there was nothing anyone could do about Joe. But Jake, he had to live on. And somehow she understood him like she had never understood Adam. The anguish she had seen in his eyes tonight was no passing thing. They said time healed everything but she didn’t believe that. It depended on who and what - on lots of things. Some folk felt with their soul, and such depth of feeling was both a curse and a blessing.

  ‘Here, get this down you, hinny.’ Clara returned to the table and poured the tea.

  ‘I’ll take Seamus a cup first.’ She knew the farmer would be in a state but she had needed to get a grip on herself before she went to see him.

  ‘Aye, all right, lass.’ Clara plumped down in her chair. ‘It’s a pity the master is how he is, it would have helped Jake if he was working with him every day like they used to.’

  So Clara, too, knew how Jake was going to feel. For a moment the two women’s gazes joined in perfect understanding. ‘This is just not fair, Clara,’ Hannah murmured brokenly as she stood up.

  ‘No, hinny, it’s not, but like me old da used to say when we were bairns and said the selfsame thing, neither is a blackbird’s backside but he gets on with life just the same.And that’s what Jake’ll do, you mark my words. He’s no quitter, not Jake.’

  No, Jake was not a quitter, Hannah thought as she left the kitchen with Seamus’s tea. And he would get on with life. But at what cost to the inner man?

  Chapter 16

  Rose did not blame Jake for her
son’s death, not even before the post-mortem revealed that Joe had been living on borrowed time for a great many years. His heart had been badly damaged, probably as a result of the attack of measles he had suffered as a child, and the doctors agreed it was a wonder he had reached manhood. Even more of a wonder that he’d endured two or three years working down a coal mine. Dr Stefford had been right. It hadn’t been the blow to his head that had killed Joe but a combination of factors working together on that fateful night which had proved the last straw for his already labouring heart.

  Jake heard this pronouncement from Dr Stefford at the farm. His stepfather had flatly refused to let him come to the infirmary and wait in the small side room to hear the findings.