Daughter of the Dales

by Diane Allen

  ‘I don’t intend to. Politics is more my thing. I’ll make the bullets that you will fire on my behalf – that way it’s a lot safer. Isn’t that what all politicians do?’ Bill laughed.

  ‘Too bloody right; it’s them lot that cause half the wars in the first place, but you won’t catch them on the battlefield.’ Luke sat down at his desk and grinned at his mate.

  ‘No, they’ve more sense. I’ll leave it to the likes of you, if there’s ever a war. It’s best I sit behind a nice warm desk and let the others do the fighting.’ Bill looked at the blackboard, and at the teacher coming in.

  ‘Coward,’ Luke whispered.

  ‘Too true, but at least I’ll still be around to tell the tale.’

  Luke looked around him, stopping to catch his breath as the steep track rose in front of him out of Settle, leading on towards Malham. He turned round to see down to the market town of Settle, and a little further afield he could see the majestic copper dome of Giggleswick School chapel. It rose above all else, stating its importance before the students and school below it. Further to his right, he could just make out the rooftop of his home at Windfell. He looked at it for a brief second, before putting his best foot forward as the CO yelled at them all to keep marching. He missed home, but had decided a while ago that the army was to be his life.

  They had marched through the centre of Settle, past the ancient Shambles and up through the market towards the narrow cobbled street of upper Settle, turning all the locals’ heads as they swung their arms and walked in time together. Over their shoulders were their trusted rifles and on their backs were their backpacks, filled with what they would need for their two nights on the wild fellside. Luke was quietly looking forward to staying out in the wilds. He knew that he did not excel in his studies, so he devoted his time to becoming a soldier and to one day serving the King. It was what he most desired. And two days of scouting and shooting practice were right up his street; anything to get away from the musty-smelling oak-clad rooms of the ancient school, which his mother had thought he would be happy in.

  The troop marched onwards to the winding Stockdale Road, high above the market town of Settle on the remote landscape leading over to Malham. There in front of them stood the high limestone crags of Attermire Scar, and the rifle butts were just visible at the bottom of the crag known as Warrendale Knotts, nearly half a mile from the road. Luke remembered when he had been at the site with his father on Whit Monday, when he taken part in the full-day shoot known as the ‘Tradesman’s shoot’. The shops in Settle and the surrounding district donated prizes for the best shot. His father had donated and awarded a clock to one of the local boys from the TA and had patted Luke on the back, then turned to him saying, ‘Next year it could be you, son.’ At the time Luke had doubted it, but now he had progressed with his skills and was certain that the prize would be his in the coming year.

  ‘Right, men, we are staying in the field over the road. Sort yourselves into two groups. Group one needs to erect the tents, while group two will dig holes for the latrines and find some kindling and wood to build a fire. And look lively.’ The CO bellowed as Luke and Bill Palmer decided which group to be in, and finally opted to be the ones digging the latrines and gathering firewood.

  ‘Shit attracts shit,’ Brunskill laughed as he pushed his way past Luke and Bill, carrying the tent poles into place.

  ‘Piss off, Brunskill,’ Luke shouted to the well-known bully. ‘Shove your pole up your arse!’

  Brunskill glowered at him, and then grabbed Luke by the shirt neck, quickly letting him go as the CO looked his way. ‘Go and dig your hole and bury yourself in it,’ he whispered as he strode off with his followers on his heels.

  ‘Don’t annoy him, Luke. He’s not worth it. And we might have to sleep in the same tent as him.’ Bill picked up his shovel and made for the wall side, ready to dig.

  ‘I hate him. I’ll make him think twice about picking on us, one day. He’s nothing but a coward anyway.’ Luke walked off, with Bill following. He would get even with Brunskill. He might be older and larger than him, but one day he’d regret being such a bully towards him.

  Unfortunately Bill had been right, and the first night of camping neither Luke nor Bill hardly slept, conscious the whole time that a few feet away from them lay Brunskill and his mob of friends. They’d kept themselves out of the way of them all evening, as they had been made to tramp up and down the scar with laden backpacks to improve their fitness. But when night-time had come, they had had to put up with the jeers and mockery of Brunskill as they settled down to sleep. Now Luke was trying to keep awake, frightened that Brunskill would do something to him or Bill while they were asleep. He rubbed his eyes and listened to the snores coming from everyone else, and felt his head getting heavy as the night slowly crept into morning. Then sleep eventually got the better of him.

  ‘Wakey-wakey, sleepy Foxy.’

  Luke woke up feeling the warm, foul-smelling liquid being poured over his head and the sound of a voice coming from the person he hated.

  ‘I couldn’t be arsed to go out to the latrine, so I’ve given you a morning wash instead.’ Brunskill kicked him slightly and then buttoned up his trousers as he put his dick away.

  Luke lay in his bed as he realized that Brunskill had urinated over his head. The smell of pee made him want to be sick. ‘You bastard!’ He got out from under his soaked grey blanket and was about to confront the laughing Brunskill when the CO entered the tent, on hearing all the commotion.

  ‘All of you, out across to the range in ten minutes. A spot of breakfast is to be served in the wooden hut next to the wall and then practice will begin. Fox, get up and get dressed, and tidy yourself up, man.’ He turned and left the group and walked out of the tent.

  ‘Yes, you stink, Fox, anyone would think you’d pissed the bed.’ Brunskill swaggered as he led his followers out of the tent, leaving just Bill hunched up in a corner, looking shame-faced at his best friend.

  ‘Sorry, Luke, I couldn’t stop them.’ Bill watched as Luke emptied his billy can of water over his head, trying to get rid of Brunskill’s smell from his hair and his skin.

  ‘It’s alright, Bill, I know. But I’ll not let this lie, believe me.’ Luke made himself tidy and put his uniform on while his best friend watched. He vowed to get his revenge and show up Brunskill for the bully he was.

  Bill and Luke ate their breakfast in silence. Luke watched as Brunskill sniggered across at him, making his friends laugh as he held his nose and commented about the smell around the table.

  As soon as breakfast was over, the troop went out to the range, which was tucked away under the limestone scar. Raised areas of shooting platforms were distanced at various yards from the targets – one hundred and fifty yards being the easiest and the hardest being set at the lane edge, a distance of eight hundred and eighty yards. Only the most proficient shot could manage to hit the target from there. The six-foot target on a rotating iron axle was only a speck in the distance.

  The group started off at the shortest distance and everyone hit the target. Captain Pierce, who had joined the group that morning, was keeping score.

  ‘This is bloody easy – I wish we could get a move on,’ Luke complained, as everyone lined up to take shots at the first three distances.

  ‘It might be easy for you, but I missed the target altogether last time. There is no way I’m going to manage the last two distances.’ Bill looked around him. He was beginning to wonder why he had bothered entering the Officers’ Training Corps, for he was not military-minded, but his father had told him it would make him more of a man, so he’d agreed to give it a go.

  ‘You don’t concentrate enough. Hold your gun steady and gently squeeze the trigger. Like the CO says, you’ve got to treat your gun like the most precious thing in your life.’ Luke and Bill walked towards the platform set at seven hundred and fifty yards from the target. In their footsteps came Brunskill, who overheard their conversation.

  ‘Perhaps he�
��s not like you. He’s got more precious things in his life. Unlike you, who’s not even loved by your family – boarded out, when your family only live two miles away from the school. Let’s face it, nobody wants you,’ sneered Brunskill.

  ‘They are busy, they work hard, so shut your mouth, you.’ Luke stared at Brunskill. How he hated him.

  ‘Aye, we know exactly how busy your father was, especially on that bike of his.’ Brunskill sniggered as he walked off and lined up to position himself at the next platform.

  ‘Don’t let him get to you.’ Bill pulled on Luke’s sleeve, holding him back from tackling Brunskill. ‘He’s not worth it.’

  ‘I’m going to show that bastard he’s not perfect. I’m sick of him picking on me and my family.’ Luke lined up along with Bill and took his next round of cartridges from the CO before loading his gun, his face set, determined to outshoot Brunskill, if nothing else.

  ‘Right, men, whoever hits this target will go on to try the platform furthest away. This will really test you all,’ shouted the CO, as the cadets looked at the distance and knew what was being asked of them.

  One by one, each cadet stepped up to the platform, taking his time to line up his scope and fire. All the cadets missed, bar Brunskill, who boasted about his victory. Bill stepped up and did as Luke had told him to, but to no avail, for he was no marksman and he knew it. Then Luke stood behind the wooden platform, resting his gun solidly and holding it firmly within his hand. He squeezed the trigger. He stood back and grinned as the bullet sped to the centre of the target, and Captain Pierce waved the white flag to say the target had been successfully hit.

  ‘Well done, Luke. That means there’s just you and Brunskill to try the next platform.’ Bill patted his mate on the back and looked at the anger on Brunskill’s face as they made their way across the wild grassland to the platform next to the wall. Brunskill’s mob was cheering him on and he was full of himself as he opted to shoot first, when given the choice.

  The cadets went quiet as he posed himself, taking time lining up the small speck in the distance. Bang! The shot was fired and all eyes turned to Captain Pierce as he rotated the target, and it looked as if it had been hit. But his arm rose and waved a red flag to show that the target had not been damaged, and a gasp of disappointment was heard from Brunskill and his followers.

  ‘Good luck, Luke,’ Bill whispered, as the rest of the cadets watched him.

  ‘Aye, good luck, mate,’ one of the group shouted as Luke took his position.

  He licked his lips and twisted his cap round. Looking through his sights, he lined up the target as best as he could, aimed and fired! It seemed an age before the target was turned round and examined by Captain Pierce, and Luke couldn’t believe it when a white flag was raised and a cheer went up from all the cadets. They patted him and congratulated him, swarming round him like bees around a honey pot.

  ‘Right through the bloody centre, Fox, a pure bullseye.’ Captain Pierce came running up with the paper target showing the impact of his shot. ‘Good man.’

  Luke grinned and was speechless. He turned and looked at a downcast Brunskill, whose friends seemed to have deserted him. Luke held his hand out to him and watched as Brunskill couldn’t quite take in his act of comradeship.

  ‘Hard luck, Brunskill, better luck next time.’ Luke shook the hand of the lad who had been a bully to him for so long. He’d no need to prove his worth to him any more. He’d been shown to be the better shot, and now everyone knew it.

  Brunskill was silent as he shook Luke’s hand. He knew he had to look like a gentleman, but he also knew that his days of being top dog among the cadets were over. No one was even giving him the time of day as he went and sat down behind the drystone wall and lit a cigarette. Bloody Luke Fox – his sort always won.

  23

  ‘Really, Harriet, I’d have thought that you would have set your sights a little higher than Ethan, for Rosie.’ Isabelle looked across at her sister-in-law in amazement at the news she’d just been told.

  ‘I did – I said anybody but Ethan. There’s so many more suitable than him, but it is as Danny says: they are both happy with one another, and that counts for a lot. Besides, they are both young; we are hoping that it will come to nothing and that their so-called love for one another will dwindle. I don’t think Ethan has even told his parents. He won’t dare, as Jethro would have something to say about it, so he can’t be that serious. I just hope he doesn’t break Rosie’s heart in the process.’ Harriet looked up from her sewing and noticed Isabelle scowling.

  ‘Well, I certainly expect better of my Jane, even though she is trying me to within an inch of my patience at the moment. There’s plenty of young eligible men in the dale and she’s older than your Rosie, so she needs to get a move on. I keep encouraging her to attend socials and the local dances, but with no luck. I think we will have to have a Christmas Ball this year at Windfell, just like Mama used to have, and then perhaps I can invite someone who’s suitable along for her. Besides, it will do the family good and will disperse any rumours about James and me having a failed marriage.’ Isabelle stood back and admired the dress that she had been finishing off for a customer and smiled. ‘If Jane wore something like this, she would have no end of admirers.’ She pulled out the long skirts of the deep-red velvet ballgown and sat back in satisfaction at her work. ‘Mrs Capstick is a very lucky lady. I hope her husband appreciates her keeping up appearances.’

  ‘I’m sure he does, I’ve never seen a more devoted couple.’ Harriet smiled. ‘Should Jane not be with us by now? I was going to watch her as she cut out the pattern for the blouse that Amelia Hall ordered. I thought it was a good one to start with.’

  ‘She’s just doing an errand for James; he needed some ink to be collected from the printer’s. He barely had to ask her and could hardly believe her eagerness, for she usually turns her nose up at errands, but she went straight away. I think she knows that he is still in quite a bit of pain with his leg, although he dare not complain when he’s in my company. He knows that he will not get any sympathy from me. After all, he’s only got himself to blame.’ Isabelle sighed. It would take longer than a few months for her to forgive James for all the hurt he’d caused, and she was not about to show any weakness on her side of the marriage.

  ‘I was hoping you would have advertised for a new seamstress by now. Winter is fast approaching and I don’t want to be travelling from up at Crummock to Skipton each day. Besides, I probably won’t be able to, for the road soon gets blocked with snow, you know that.’ Harriet looked at Isabelle.

  ‘How can I forget, Harriet? Don’t you worry – I placed an advertisement in the local paper just last week, as I knew that although you are enjoying your time with us, it would not be practical for you to work here over the winter. Let’s say that I have learned from my shameful past mistakes. Hopefully, by spring, Jane will have learned well enough to follow in your footsteps anyway. Then, if you wish, you can join us as and when you please, as it is a joy to be working with you again, dear sister.’ Isabelle walked over to her sister-in-law and hugged her tightly. ‘Are you doing anything special for Rosie’s birthday next week? It’s not every day a girl is seventeen.’

  ‘No, she says she doesn’t want any fuss, she just wants a quiet day. No doubt Ethan will come into it somewhere along the line. He seems to have replaced us in her affections. I just wish she wasn’t so young, for there will be time for men in her life, and he’s the first one she’s known.’ Harriet looked up at Isabelle and then decided to keep her thoughts to herself. Isabelle was being very understanding, but she was no doubt hiding her true thoughts about her niece’s love affair. She remembered the caustic remarks about Ethan the last time he had come up in conversation. Still, she was glad that Isabelle had placed an advertisement for her position, for during the winter she was better up at the farm, which was where she belonged the most and where she would be needed, if snow came.

  ‘Ethan, these are absolutely beautiful. I can�
�t believe you have made them yourself.’ Rosie smiled as she admired the miniature set of drawers that Ethan had lovingly made for her birthday present. They both sat outside on the stone steps that led up to his new lodgings in the feed-room. They sat as close to one another as they dared, given that Rosie’s father kept walking across the yard as he went about his work, before the family tea that had been arranged for Rosie’s birthday.

  ‘I thought they could be put towards our home, when we get wed. They’ll look good on top of the mantelpiece. That is, if we can ever afford a home.’ Ethan kissed Rosie quickly on the cheek, hoping not to get caught in the act. ‘I love you – you do know that. I was just frightened when you said you were with child. I’d have stood by you.’

  ‘I know, and I was frightened too. It was perhaps a good thing I lost it. It makes days like this more special.’ Rosie opened the small drawers that could hold various bits and bobs, and looked at the handles that Ethan had fashioned out of offcuts of brass from around the farm and from old brass curtain rings. ‘I’ve been thinking that if we do wed and need a home, I could perhaps persuade Grandfather to let us live in his Great-aunt Lucy’s cottage in Austwick. It’s been empty for years and needs a lot of repair, but it would be lovely for just us two.’

  ‘I don’t think your mother will agree. She doesn’t seem to think that I’m good enough for you, but I aim to prove her wrong. There’s not much I can’t turn my hand to, and your father keeps saying what a good job I’m doing, now I’ve decided what’s important to me in life. I don’t want to be just the lad that mucks out the stable and cleans the harness – I can do better than that. Where’s the cottage at? Should we go and have a look at it, when we can get away together?’ Ethan had decided it was time to show his commitment to Rosie and to prove to her parents that he was a worker, now that he had something to aim for. He didn’t want to be excluded from the family as the outcast that he currently felt he was.