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Authors: Yelena Kopylova

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BOOK: A Dinner Of Herbs
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across the yard, passing some men who, having withdrawn the dolly from the tub, were

now beating the

sides of it with hammers, a process that allowed the heavier,;

70 | ore to settle gradually at the bottom with the lighter refuse coming to rest upon it.

And after they let

the water out of the tub, they removed the dross to the dead heap, leaving the pure ore to be taken to the

bing stead

How many times he had trundled that dross to the dead heap during his early days and in this moment he

hoped he would never again hammer on a dolly.

The men chaffed him as he passed them, Paul and Johnny Fowler shouting after him,

“Doubled your

wages then, has he? By, we’ll have your neck for that, Roddy boy.” Will Campbell just

straightened his

back and stared after him: nobody had ever shown any interest in his own handicraft, and he could

whittle wood into any shape. Favouritism, that’s what it was, favouritism.

Roddy wasn’t unaware of the mixed feelings towards him in the mill.

Most men didn’t like change, they feared change, and anyone who wanted change was to

them a

disturber of the peace. They had their pattern of life: they worked hard; the majority of them still drank

hard, although now they didn’t allow their drinking to interfere with their work; they kept it to a Saturday

night and Fair days.

Roddy had come among them as an odd boy who couldn’t remember his past, but now he

was a young

man who still couldn’t remember his past but who lived very much in the present and

thought of the future

and was one of them who wanted change. Moreover, besides his drawing working on the

rudiments he

must have picked up while a boy in Shields, he had taught himself to read and write. But he wasn’t the

only one who could do this, there was Hal Roystan. They said he had a shelf of books in old Abel

Hamilton’s cottage. Of course this was only since the old fellow died for he’d no use for books, old

Abel, a pick and shovel had been his tools.

Hal Roystan, they thought, was as opposite in temperament from Roddy Greenbank as

chalk was from

cheese; yet they were very close in a way, and both connected with old Kate.

Now there was a funny one for you: you had to keep on the right side of her or you found yourself with

boils on your neck, and even on your nether regions an’ all. See what happened to Ben

Fowler that night

he got blind drunk and took the wrong way home and kicked her mongrel dog while

passing. He

couldn’t move the next morning, stiff as a ramrod.

It took him weeks to get his back straight again. And then what about Jed Pierce? Just because he

made up to Mary Ellen Lee on the road on her Sunday off while going home. He had

wanted to court

her, he said it openly. And he told Kate that, after the lass had run from him to the old woman’s and

what had Kate said to him?

“You wantin’ Mary Ellen! You can’t even keep your snotty nose clean. If you come

within a mile of

her again you won’t be able to sit down for a month, I’m tellin’ you.” And be god that’s what had

happened. He got a carbuncle, as big as a double-yoked egg it was, and it nearly drove him mad, at

least the treatment did, for his brother Roger and his two sisters had held him while his elder brother Billy

stuck a stone water bottle filled with steam on. the offending carbuncle in an effort to draw it to a head.

Jed had smashed half of the crockery in the kitchen before they got hold of him again.

So she had powers, had Kate Makepeace, and it was as well to keep on the right side

other, as those

three certainly did, for they had all prospered in different ways: Roddy Greenbank was well in with the

boss while Hal Roystan had risen to be one of the best paid men on the floor; as for Mary Ellen Lee,

Farmer Davison and his wife had almost adopted her, treated her like one of their own, they did. Aye, it

was well to keep in with witches.

Roddy could almost hear their voices going through his head, and as he made his way

quickly home,

striding out as if he were going to his shift instead of just finishing the ten hour stretch in the sweltering

heat and dust, he wasn’t only thinking of the meeting with the artists, there was

something else on his

mind which was even more important than the success of his drawings. Yet in a way they were linked;

the happy outcome of one might depend on the other.

Kate greeted him as usual.

“Well,” she said, ‘another one over? “

“Aye, Kate,” He put his bait tin down on the table and stood looking at her, a small

shrunken figure with

a face like a dried nut but with a voice that still denied age.

“All set?” she said.

“Aye, Kate, all set. I go first thing in the mornin’. I’ve got a letter here’—he tapped the inside of his

coat ‘and I’m likely to meet some big names. Well, that’s the impression I got from Mr.

Mulcaster. By

the way, Kate, could ... could I have a little money?”

“Could you have a little money? Why do you ask me, lad? What’s there’—she now

turned and

pointed with a crooked finger to the inside of the chimney ‘is yours.”

“No, no. We’ve had that out a long time ago.”

“Aye, I know you’ve said that afore but I’ll say again, what’s there’s yours. Anyway, if you don’t have it

now you would have it later. As you know the money I took from your da’s belt went in

the lean years,

but the fifty-five pounds those thieving clerks sent for the sale of the house is still there as it came.

Fifty-five pounds! when it was sold for a hundred an’ ten. Eeh! Daylight robbers.

Anyway lad, take it

for whatever you want to do with it.”

“I don’t want fifty-five pounds, Kate. Look, I’ve got two of me own.”

He jerked his head now.

“I know it should be twenty-two, and would be if I didn’t buy so much bloomin’ paper

and the like, but

if I could sort of take three. You see.... Well, he meant it kindly enough, but I really don’t see any need

for it,” he lied emphatically, accompanying his words with a quick nodding of the head,

‘but Mr.

Mulcaster thought, seem’ as I’m meetin’ these upper type of people, I should have some different kind of

clothes. “

“Different from your Sunday ones?”

“Aye.”

She seemed to consider for a moment, and then said, “Well, I suppose he’s right. He

knows what he’s

up to, he wouldn’t want you to show up there with straw sticking from under your cap.

But remember,

lad, an’ more so when you meet these other folk, it isn’t what’s underneath. They say if you look a man

straight in the eye you can see right through him, but don’t you believe it. Some eyes have had long

practice in deceiving and there’s them that could smile while cutting’ your throat.”

She turned from him now to lift a black pan from the fire, but paused while she held the handle, adding,

“What if they take you up there? I mean, take to your drawin’s an’ want you to go further like, a sort of

training What’ll you do?”

“I don’t know. I’ve thought about that. But anyway—-’ He paused, so stopping his

tongue from

saying, “ If a miracle should happen;’ instead, he said, “If anything like that came about and I had to

work in Newcastle I could always be home at the weekends.”

She brought the pan to the table now and set the sooty bottom on a flat piece of stone, and as she took

off the lid she said, “London town, I understand, is the place for artists and suchlike.

What if they sent

you... ?”

She didn’t finish because in a voice that was deep now and firm he said, “Never! Never, Kate. I’d

never go out of Newcastle. Not a step further. No.”

She lifted her head and looked at him.

“No?”

“No.” . ;

“You seem sure of that.”

He looked at her, the while pulling the muffler from his i neck; then took off his coat, crossed the room

with it, and hung it on the back of the scullery door before turning and looking at her again.

“I should have told you,” he said, ‘but there seemed;

nothing to tell. There still isn’t anything really, but well’j Kate, I’ve . I’ve got me eye on a lass, and even

if there | wasn’t you, she’d keep me here. “ if He had a half smile on his face, shy,

diffident, and she

answered it by saying, “ Tell me something I don’t know. “ j His eyes now screwed up,

he took two

steps towards her, saying, “ You can’t. Well, nobody. I. don’t even know me self As for her. well. “

He put his head to one side now | and peered at Kate. They said she was a witch, but this was

impossible. He watched the look fade from her face as she said quietly, “ Not Mary

Ellen? “

His face stretched, and when he spoke there was a note of incredulity in it.

“Mary El lenT he said.

“Good God! Kate. No, no, never Mary Ellen. Why, she’s like a sister....”

Her outburst cut him off.

“Sister be damned! She’s no sister, an’ she’s had you in her eye since you first lay on that saddle there.”

She stretched out her thin arm and pointed.

“My God! man, you must be blind. And you’ve played up to her.”

“Oh no, no, Kate. Now don’t say that. I’ve been the same to Mary Ellen as I always have.

I’ve

argued and fought with her; even last Sunday we had an up-an’-downer. She’s got a

tongue that would

clip clouts and she’s got a head on her that would fit her granny, the things she comes out with.”

He knew a deep concern now as he stared at the old woman whom he looked upon as a

mother for he

knew that she had taken him in and cared for him from he’d had the accident. And in that first year he

must have been a handful, raving half the time, apparently. Recalling those early days, there also came

into his head queer pictures, jumbled up incidents that had no relation to anything he could remember.

And even now, the grown man that he was, they raised a fear in him, because when he

tried to think

back his head would swim and he would have the most odd feeling as if he was going to

tumble down,

faint, like some refined lady.

Softly now, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Kate. I never thought you...”

She took a ladle and scooped some stew onto a plate and pushed it across the table, but he remained

still, looking at her. The very fact that she had put out the meal without waiting for him to be washed told

how upset she must be. He again said, “I’m sorry, Kate, but ... I think you are wrong with regard to how

Mary Ellen feels.”

“Shut up! Shut up! man. Don’t you know you’re like a disease with her?

Always have been, a skin rash that she can’t get rid of, an’ never will. Anyway, who’s this other miss

you’ve got in your mind? Someone from round about? “

He shook his head and it was some seconds before he said, “She’s not from this part.

Anyway, I...

well, you see, I hardly know her. We’ve only met three times.”

“And you know she’s the one you want to mate with for life?”

His chin came up, his face hardened, as did his voice as he said, “Yes, Kate, it’s like that.

I’ve never

bothered with lasses. You know I haven’t....”

“No, because you’ve had Mary Ellen to fall back on.”

“I’ve never fallen back on Mary Ellen as you put it; she’s been there, like you’ve been there, one of the

family. I’ve never thought of her in that way, never. But ... but this other is different; as soon as I

clapped eyes on her I knew.”

Kate slowly lowered herself into a chair now and she drummed her fingers on the table as she said,

“What’s her name?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“You don’t know her name?”

He hung his head as if slightly ashamed.

“No, I... I don’t know her name,” he said.

You don’t know? You mean to stand there and tell me you’ve met her three times and

you don’t know

what they call her? “

“Aye, that’s it.”

“They must have been brief meetings “ They were. Yes, Kate, they were, just brief. “

“How long have you known her?”

“Nine months.”

“Nine months! and you’ve only seen her three times?”

“Yes; and the first twice we never spoke. Isn’t that strange now?” He was mimicking her.

“And I’ll tell you something else that’s strange, Kate. I saw her first through a window, sitting at a table

in the tea house off the main street in Hexham, and I went in and had tea just to look at her. Now, isn’t

that strange? And the second time was in the market, and I was close to her and we

looked at each

other, we looked at each other long. The third time was just a week ago, in Haydon

Bridge, and it was

there we spoke, not for long, but long enough to know that she’ll be in Newcastle the

morrow.” He

didn’t mention the times he had stood outside a particular house in Hexham where he had discovered she

visited.

Kate stared at him in silence for some seconds before saying, “Was the drawing business just an excuse

to meet her away in Newcastle?”

“No. That was all arranged a fortnight ago. You know that. This other just happened to fit in.”

“And you still don’t know her name or where she’s from?”

“No, I still don’t know her name. There wasn’t time to ask as we were standing in the

street, and the

coach came. One thing I did learn was that she comes from over Catton way, towards Old Town.”

BOOK: A Dinner Of Herbs
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