Billy had returned with the box, and she now took from it a piece of linen and soaked it in the warm water before using it to clean the jagged ring of flesh and skin. Following this, she took some strips of linen, thickened one with ointment from the jar in the corner of the box, and placed it tenderly round the wound; then with more strips, she bandaged the heel and part of the leg, tying it top and bottom in place with a narrow strip of linen; after which she again took the now bandaged limb in her hands, bowed her head for a moment, then quite smartly got to her feet and, passing Ward, went to the cow’s head, saying, ‘It’ll be all right, Maisie. Be a good girl, and I’ll see you in the morning.’
She turned to look up at Ward, and he looked down on her. She was his Fanny once more: she was smiling tenderly at him, and she asked, ‘Are you going to make sure there are not any more of them…I mean in any other pastures?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t think there’ll be any in the other pastures; this was the one that runs by the bridle path and leads into the wood on Ramsmore’s estate. But the path starts in the village, and it’s quite easy for anyone to pop over the wall alongside. But my God! I’ll see they don’t pop over again.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Shoot the first bugger I see standing where he shouldn’t belong.’
It was the first time she had heard him swear; it was the first time she had heard him use this tone, especially so when he turned to Billy, who was standing to the side and said, ‘I mean that, Billy. By God! I mean that.’
‘And I don’t blame you, master. Here’s one that wouldn’t blame you or anybody else. Anyway, if they were given over to the authorities, they would go along the line. It’s punishable now; in any form, they’re punishable…traps. Except, of course, when you set them on your own land for rabbits.’
As Ward marched out of the cow byre, Billy, after glancing at Fanny and nodding towards her, followed him. But she remained where she was for quite some moments. Shoot them, he had said. Yes, and perhaps he would. He had every reason in the world to be angry, but the man who had just gone out of the byres was a different man from the one she had come to love. She looked back at the cow who was now standing docilely looking towards her, and in her mind she spoke to it: There is more in this than meets the eye, Maisie, she said. There’s something behind it. Why would anyone want to do him an injury through his animals? And why, when I go to the village, do some people pass me without speaking, while others are cheery? Why?
She went from the byres, across the yard and into the kitchen. Annie had finished her scrubbing, and had donned a clean apron. She had just banged the oven door closed, while exclaiming again as if she were talking to the air: ‘This flue’ll have to be swept; I’m not gettin’ the heat I should. That piecrust in there is as pale as a reluctant bride.’
‘Annie.’
‘Yes, mistress?’ Annie straightened up, dusted her hands and waited.
‘Come and sit down.’
‘There’s no time to sit down; it’s half past eleven in the mornin’, ma’am.’
‘Sit down, Annie. I want to talk to you.’
Reluctantly, Annie lowered her plump body down onto a chair she had recently scrubbed, and Fanny went on, ‘At least I want you to talk to me. I want you to explain something, tell me something.’
‘What do I know, ma’am, that I could tell you, you who are educated enough to learn the lad his letters an’ such?’
‘Listen to me, Annie. I am going to ask you a question, and it’s this: what is it that makes some people in the village ignore me and others speak quite kindly to me? Is it because War…the master married me?’
Annie turned slightly and looked towards her oven, then lifted up the corner of the large white apron and rubbed it around her mouth before returning her gaze to Fanny and saying, ‘He’s never told you anything?’
‘Told me about what?’
‘Daisy Mason.’
When Fanny made no reply Annie gave an impatient jerk of her head; then casting her eyes upwards a moment, she exclaimed, ‘Men! Men! The silly buggers. They think they can hide behind their own shadows.’ Then bringing her eyes back to Fanny, she said bluntly, ‘Daisy Mason is a lass…oh, a woman, who expected to find herself in your place. Now that’s the top an’ the bottom of it. And don’t look like that; these things happen. You hit him like a bull on the rampage. But anything further from a bull I’d like to find.’ Her lips now moved into the semblance of a smile.
‘You mean…he jilted her for …?’
‘Oh no, no!’ Annie’s head was being almost violently shaken. ‘There was no jilting on his part, because the thickhead had imagined there was nobody to jilt. It’s like this, ma’am. He and Daisy Mason went to school together in the village; an’ with her and her two brothers, he romped about when they weren’t working, as youngsters will; and as they grew, they still kept company…No, that’s wrong, not company, because keeping company means courtship. And as far as I can gather I doubt if he has as much as kissed her over the years. I don’t know, but I shouldn’t expect so because, like most of his kind, he was blind, at least where a lass’ feelings range from she’s sixteen onwards. You know what I mean, ma’am. And he took her to one or two barn dances, set her home from church; an’ sometimes he went and had tea with her people. Well, he had always dropped in there for a bite to eat at odd times—the two families were friends—that is, until about two years ago, when I think he must have smelt a rat, because he stopped going to church. I realise now it was really because he would have to set her home after. It was the rule to do so. And he started to visit Newcastle more; and Gateshead and the like towns, where there were good turns on. I’m sure he did it because he had seen the signal in Daisy’s eyes; and he wasn’t for marrying her, or anybody else at the time. Then, one night, he goes to The Empire, and there you were, the Maltese Angel, they called you. You were flying all over the stage, and dancing like a fairy, so he told me. And you were just the opposite in every way that God could think of to Daisy Mason. And you know the rest.’
It was a full minute before Fanny said, ‘And that’s what they’re holding against him…and me?’
‘Aye, in a way, you could say that. But it would have been the same whoever he had married…I mean the effect on Daisy and her family, because, you see, give them an’ people their due, everybody expected it. To all intents an’ purposes they had been courtin’. Well, I tell you, when you went about courtin’ you kept to the same lass. And he had never bothered with anybody else over the years. And you know somethin’, ma’am? If he had lived in a town it would have been different…Oh, different altogether!’ and she expressed the difference with a great wave of her hand. ‘Nobody would have noticed unless the lass had taken him to the justices for breach of promise, which a lot of them are doin’ these days, brazen hussies that they are. But in a village it’s different. Well, in this one it is, anyway, ’cos it’s like one big family: it is as if everybody was related to everybody else. And some are, you know, some are. They have intermarried for generations, some of them; and the results…’—her eyebrows went up—‘the results have left a lot to be wished for here and there. And the village isn’t only the main street, lass; it spreads out…aye, even to the gentry, because you can keep nothing secret: everybody knows everything about everybody else. And if they think anything’s been kept back they get the mud rakes out…That’s a village, ma’am. They’re nearly all alike; there’s not a pin to choose atween them. But don’t worry yourself. Just think of what you’re carryin’ and let them get on with it…But having said that, it’s not saying that your man will, because once this kind of thing starts you don’t know where it’s gona stop. But one last thing, please don’t let on that I’ve told you all this. There’ll come a time when it’s right for him to enlighten you about the whole matter. Until then, my advice, ma’am, is to plead dumb. You understand?’
‘Yes. Yes, Annie, I understand. And thank you for making things plai
n to me. But nevertheless, I am saddened to think that I have been the cause of the division in the village.’
‘Well’—Annie now rose from the chair—‘if it wasn’t you doin’ something, ma’am, it would be somebody else, because there’s nothin’ lies faller hereabouts. If it isn’t some farmer knocking on the door in the dark, or high jinks at harvest time, it’s somebody goin’ off with the Christmas money from The Running Hare, like Sep Newton did three years ago. And he’s never turned up since. Yet his mother still shows her face at church on a Sunday, I understand. And them’s only scraping the surface of things. So don’t worry, ma’am, just carry on with your life, and continue to be a nine-day wonder to your man.’ She now grinned widely as she added, ‘And that’s what you are, you know. He still can’t get over having you.’
‘Oh, Annie.’ Fanny moved impulsively forward and put her arms around the sturdy body, and for a moment she rested her head on Annie’s shoulder, saying, ‘What would I have done without you? I thought when I parted from the friendship of Mrs Killjoy I would be alone here, but from the moment I stepped in the front door you took me under your wing. I shall always remember that, Annie. And I thank you.’
‘Oh, go on with you, ma’am. Go on with you. Besides having dancing feet you’ve got a dancing tongue,’ and at this she pushed Fanny gently from her and turned her attention quickly to the oven, saying again, ‘They’ve got to sweep this chimney, and soon, unless they want cold porridge set afore them on the table.’
Before the day was out the village was made aware of Ward Gibson’s reaction to the planting of the trap. The term ‘tearing mad’ was putting it mildly. First, he visited the blacksmith’s shop, and there, showing the trap to the blacksmith, he said, ‘What d’you make of that, Charlie?’
Charlie Dempsey grasped the iron spike to which was attached a piece of wire with a loop on the end, and he fingered it for a time, pushing one end of the loop backwards and forwards; then looking at Ward, he said, ‘Crude job, Ward, I’d say, but very effective. It’s on the lines of a rabbit snare, but bigger. I don’t know what they’d hope to catch with it. Nothing like a mantrap, ’cos as I see it, you would have to step into this. And it’s a pretty big loop.’
‘Big enough to take a heifer’s foot?’
Charlie looked at Ward before he said, ‘Aye. Aye, yes. It could step into it, but being silly bitches they wouldn’t step out, they would just pull it and it would tighten. Aye.’ He now pulled on the main piece of wire and repeated, ‘Aye. Aye. What’s it about?’
‘It’s about crippling my herd, Charlie. That’s what it’s about.’
The blacksmith made a gesture of almost throwing the contraption away from him, saying, ‘No! No, man. Who’d do a blasted thing like that? I mean, it’s never been heard of. Rabbits, foxes, badgers, aye, but never cows…Is it badly seared?’
‘Almost to the bone in one part.’
‘Good God! Well, I’ll be damned! This is something I’ve never known afore.’
‘But you’ve likely seen those spikes; they’re all of nine inches, and it takes some knocking into the ground.’
‘Yes, I’ve seen those spikes, because I made them; and I think I’ve supplied them to every farmer in the district, and to every farmer for miles around; an’ you yourself. But they would have had to be knocked fully into the ground else they could have been spotted.’
‘Yes, if they were on bare ground; but they were placed cunningly in some lush grass, near one end of the field. And there’s another thing: bairns cross that field, those that come from the school. The lads, in particular, climb the wall. Amos Laker’s two young ’uns often do. I’ve yelled at them more than once because the little devils go scattering the cows and disturbing the milk. What if one of them had been caught in that, because their clogs would have dropped off and some damage would have been done before they could have got their foot out of the infernal thing.’
The blacksmith now picked up a pair of tongs, took a piece of iron from the glowing forge and hammered the end of it flat before he spoke again, saying, ‘You’ve got to face up to it, Ward; there’s them round about that’s got it in for you. It’s like a lot of bloody fools in this world, going fighting other people’s battles, because, you know, I don’t think the Masons themselves would do anything. There’s not a nicer couple than him and her; and I’ve had a drink with the lads now and again, and they never utter a word against you. No; it’s some of them like the Conway lot, or Ted Read and his pal Jock MacIntosh. Oh, he gets under my skin, that fella. Why doesn’t he go back to Scotland among all his brave countrymen, those who he shoots his mouth off about? Likely one of that ilk. Of course, we mustn’t forget them down in the Hollow. There’s good and bad among all kinds, but there’s one or two that smell down there; like Riley, for instance. I know where I’d like to stick a hot rod in that one…sly, smooth-tongued…crawler. He’d spit on his Pope for a tanner.’
This tirade had been going on between bangs of the hammer; and now, dipping the piece of bent iron into a bucket of water, Charlie Dempsey waited until the sound of the sizzling had died away before he said, quietly now, ‘Anyway, there’s another side to it: you’ve got good friends among us; and I can tell you this, the more I see of your little wife the more I understand your situation.’
The leather apron around his stomach now began to wobble, and he bent his head and rubbed his sweat-covered face with his blackened hand as he muttered, ‘You should have heard my missis the other night when I was talking about your young lass. And you know what I said? I said, we all had regrets in life, and it was a pity that I hadn’t clapped eyes on that dainty piece before Ward had, because he wouldn’t have had a look in. And do you know what? She brought her hand across me ear; and her hand’s not delicate, it’s a mitt, I can tell you.’
Ward did not smile. At this moment he couldn’t appreciate his friend’s trend, which was an effort to lighten his humour, so that when he turned slowly and went towards the open door of the forge, Charlie said, ‘Where you off to?’
And Ward’s reply was short: ‘To both of them: The Hare and The Head; and I won’t be drinking in either. But I’ll tell Sam Longstaffe of The Hare and Michael Holden of The Head in no small voice so that their customers can hear me, that I’ll not rest until I find out who did this.’ He now shook the trap that was hanging from his hand. ‘Then God help them.’ And with this, he walked down the street in the direction of the two inns.
In bed that night, holding Fanny in his arms, he said to her, ‘Don’t go walking round the fields by yourself. Do you hear me? And don’t go into the village again, unless Annie goes with you.’
‘But Ward, my dear, that won’t happen again…I mean what’s happened today.’
‘No, it mightn’t happen again; and yet it might. But other things could happen; and don’t say “Why?” just do as I ask. Do you hear?’
‘Yes, Ward, I hear.’
‘I love you.’
‘And I love you, too, Ward, so very much.’
Two
The weeks wore on; the months wore on; the weather remained favourable, the crops were good; the prices in the market were moderate, but healthy enough to allow Ward to make improvements. Not only did he have the yard stone-paved from the open barn right to the yard gates but he had the house painted and, what was more, he didn’t engage Arthur Wilberforce, cousin to the verger, but a Mr Percy Connor, painter and decorator, who had a business in Fellburn. The village didn’t like this at all: even his friends felt he was going too far, because everybody knew the village tried to be self-sufficient, and likes and dislikes were forgotten when they touched on a man’s livelihood; even the gentry round about rarely went farther afield than the village for either victuals or inside and outside work. As Hannah Beaton confided to one of her customers, ‘That little dancer up there has wrought havoc in this place.’
As for the little dancer herself, she no longer felt little: she was carrying inside her a weight that grew heavier each
day. She was almost on her time. Annie told her she had carried well: she hadn’t been sick at all, and she had been blithe in herself, which wasn’t always the way with the first one.
It was now nearing the end of August. During the months past they’d harvested two crops of hay; and now they were stocking the last of the corn. Ward, Billy and the boy had been working from early morning, and during the day Annie and Fanny had brought out three meals to them; and to eat the last one they had not sat propped up against the hay cart, or seated in the shadow of the hedge. Instead, Fanny had laid a check cloth on the stubble, and they had all sat round and drunk of the cool beer and ate shives of bread and cheese and veal pie, and a great deal of laughter had ensued, mainly over Annie’s chatter.
However, as soon as the meal was over, Ward and Billy rose and were away to resume work; but Carl, his mouth still wide with laughter, continued to stare at Annie, and she shouted at him, ‘Don’t you laugh at me, young man, else I’ll come over there and skite the hunger off you,’ and at this, Carl, still laughing, enquired, ‘What does that mean, Mrs Annie, skite the hunger off you?’
Annie paused before replying, ‘Well, I don’t really know, lad. Me mother used to use it. I suppose it’s sort of saying, “look out or I’ll box your ears”.’ Then she cried, ‘Mind where you’re going!’ and thrust out her hand as Fanny stumbled a little on the rough ground and, grabbing the basket from her, she said, ‘Give me that here! You’ve got enough to carry with that lump of yours. Have you been having any pains?’
‘Not pains exactly, no; just a feeling.’
‘Well, from what I gather, you’ve got another week to go. But then I might have gathered wrong.’
‘Oh, I’ll go another week. I mean to’—she nodded at Annie—‘because I’d love Mr and Mrs Killjoy to be here…You won’t mind them staying for a few days, will you, Annie?’
The Maltese Angel Page 10
