Lanky Jones Read online

  A minute later, having backed successfully and apparently with no trouble towards the gate, he went to drive forward again, but the back wheels whizzed and the car shuddered. ‘Oh no!’ Daniel cried as he swung round and looked out of the rear window; then added dolefully, ‘The back wheels are in a drift, Dad.’

  ‘Good Lord! Look. Get out, get behind her, and when I tell you, push…lift and push.’

  ‘Just like that?’

  His father nodded at him, saying, ‘Yes, just like that.’

  For the next ten minutes Mr Jones yelled, ‘Push! Push! Push!’ And Daniel attempted to lift and push until he became exhausted, when, leaning over the boot, he called, ‘It’s no good, Dad, she’s going in deeper. We’ll have to get some help.’

  Mr Jones now came out of the car and stood on the roadway and gazed about him. Then looking at his wristwatch, he said, ‘And we’ll have to have it soon, it’s well past three, it will be dark in no time. Good Lord!’ He shook his head. ‘I must have been barmy to come down here.’

  ‘You said it.’ Daniel nodded at him. ‘It looks as if you’ll have your cottage after all; we might have to camp out there.’

  ‘Don’t be silly; there’ll be a farm round here somewhere. Let’s go and see.’

  They walked over the packed snow, turned round three more bends in the lane, and then they saw the farm. It was about half a mile distant and situated at the bottom of the valley and closer to the opposite hills, which seemed to go on until they disappeared into the sky.

  ‘They’ll have a tractor.’

  ‘Yes, likely.’ Daniel nodded at his father, then added, ‘But they mightn’t like the idea of lending it; they’ll think we’re a pair of idiots to get stuck in a drift.’

  ‘And they’re right, aren’t they?’ Mr Jones made a slow conciliatory shrug of his shoulders which caused Daniel to laugh as he answered, ‘Speak for yourself; I didn’t want to look at a wreck of a cottage.’

  Their first impression of the farm was that everything looked very tidy; their second, that everything was very quiet except for the bleating of some sheep that were penned in a field near the outbuildings.

  They crossed a paved yard and came to what was evidently the back door of the house. Mr Jones knocked, then stood waiting.

  There was no response and so he knocked louder. When again no-one came to answer he tentatively lifted the old-fashioned latch and pressed against the door.

  ‘It’s locked. They’re out.’

  ‘Well, I shouldn’t imagine they’ll be out for long, if they’ve got cattle to see to.’

  Mr Jones stood looking about him, then said, ‘Sheep look after themselves mostly.’

  ‘There’s cows over there, I heard one mooing,’ said Daniel.

  His father listened, then said. ‘Yes, you’re right. It must be near milking time. Anyway, I can’t see the point of standing here. We’ll get back to the car, we can wait in it until they come along.’

  ‘What if there’s another road?’

  ‘I don’t think so. There’s only a narrow path leading up to the hills; they wouldn’t use that. Come along.’

  They were both cold and shivering when they returned to the car and after finishing the tea from the flask and the last of the sandwiches they prepared themselves to wait. But they had hardly settled down when they heard the rumbling of a vehicle approaching, and they were out and standing by the bonnet of their own car when the Land Rover came round the bend and drew up in front of them.

  They looked up at the young man who was driving, and at the two faces beyond his, those of a woman and a young girl. It was the woman who spoke. ‘Stuck?’ she said.

  ‘Yes, Ma, they’ve got stuck.’ It was the young man, laughing now, who answered her. Then he turned to them and said, ‘What you doing down here, anyway? You come to see us?’

  ‘No.’ Mr Jones shook his head, ‘I…well, really’—he gave a shamefaced grin—‘I came to have a second look at that old cottage.’ He jerked his head backwards.

  ‘That!’ The young man screwed up his face. ‘What on earth for?’

  ‘I couldn’t really tell you, except I…I saw it in the summer and just wondered if anyone round about had taken it yet.’

  ‘No.’ The young man shook his head. ‘Well, you see, they wouldn’t because they are all sane around here.’

  Daniel wanted to laugh—they had come across a joker.

  When the Land Rover door was pushed open and the young man jumped to the ground Daniel saw that the stranger was almost a head shorter than him and looked not so much a young man as a boy, perhaps about his own age. Yet he reasoned he must be seventeen to be driving a car.

  ‘Have you got any rope?’

  He was looking at Daniel, and Daniel answered, ‘No.’

  The young man now went round to the back of the Land Rover, saying, ‘Don’t you ever listen to the television or the wireless? They tell you never to go out in this weather without a rope, a shovel, a pick and enough grub to last you a month.’

  ‘Don’t take any notice of him.’ The woman had now got down on to the road, She was of medium height and was wearing a green velour coat with a fur-lined hood attached, and the face looking out from it was pretty and kindly. She was oldish, as old as his mother he thought, well over thirty, but her voice was light and had the laughing quality of her son’s. She was looking at his father, saying now, ‘Have you been stranded long?’

  ‘About an hour or so,’ Mr Jones replied. ‘We…we called at your farm. You are from the farm?’ He pointed.

  ‘Yes. It isn’t often we go out but my husband is in hospital in Hexham and…and we all wanted to see him.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I hope it’s nothing serious?’

  She paused before answering. ‘He…he’s much better now; we hope to have him home soon.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Well, would you like to get in before dark or would you rather stay put?’

  Mr Jones was forced to laugh and he turned to see Daniel tying a rope under the front bumper and the young man mounting his cab again.

  After a series of stops and starts and some pushing from behind in which the woman and her daughter helped, the back wheels eventually left the drift and were once again on firm ground.

  ‘Thank you, thank you very much indeed.’ Mr Jones was looking at the young man. ‘I’m indeed grateful.’

  ‘That’s all right. Pity we didn’t come along sooner. Have you far to go?’

  ‘Newcastle.’

  ‘Oh, you won’t make that before dark, will you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Have you plenty of petrol?’

  ‘Yes; I always keep a full tank.’

  ‘Well then, turn her round and I’ll see you up the bank. What I mean is, I’ll see if she can get up the bank. It’s freezing, you know, it’s a sheet of ice up at the top now.’

  Mr Jones nodded from one to the other and again said, ‘Thanks,’ after which Daniel, looking at the young man, said, ‘It’s good of you,’ and he included the woman in his thanks. Then his eyes rested on the girl who was staring at him. She was like her mother, with brown hair and blue eyes.

  He was feeling embarrassed under her stare and he said again, ‘Thanks. Ta,’ before turning about and getting into the car.

  When Mr Jones turned the key in the ignition the result was a choked spurt, a grunt, then silence.

  Putting his foot down hard on the accelerator, he tried again. After the third time he glanced apprehensively at Daniel and, the colour rising in his face, he muttered, ‘Oh no! No!’

  After the fifth attempt he wound down the window and looked at the face of the young man whose countenance, too, looked solemn except that there was a deep twinkle in the back of the eyes.

  ‘Often have this trouble?’

  ‘No; never before.’

  ‘She’s an old ’un.’ The young man now looked towards the bonnet as if he were discussing a horse or some farm creature, then added. ‘Ten ye
ar old?’

  ‘No, eleven.’

  ‘Old age tantrums, I should say. Well, try her again.’

  A little peeved, Mr Jones foolishly rammed his foot down on the accelerator once more; then again and again and again.

  ‘Know anything about cars, I mean their insides?’

  ‘Very little,’ said Mr Jones.

  ‘Mind if I have a look?’

  ‘Not at all.’ …

  They were all standing in the road again; the bonnet was up, the young man was poking about among the wires. Presently, he said, ‘Nothing that I can see wrong there, it must be something deep in her bowels.’

  Deep in her bowels. If the situation hadn’t been serious Daniel would have burst out laughing.

  ‘It’s getting dark.’ It was the first time the girl had spoken. Her voice was different from her mother’s and brother’s, markedly so. Her words were slow, separated from each other; it was as if she were repeating a lesson in elocution.

  ‘Yes, it is.’ Her mother nodded now and, turning to Mr Jones, she said, ‘Would you like to come up to the house? It’s no good standing out here freezing.’

  ‘Oh, we don’t want to put you to any trouble. Is…is there a garage anywhere near?’

  ‘Yes.’ It was the young man speaking again. ‘Two miles away. No, three. Yes, three’—he nodded to himself—‘in Bardon Mill. Aw, leave it; nobody can do anything with her the night. And look, as Sally said, it’s getting dark and I can tell you for nothing, no garage hand’s coming out at this time of night, especially on a Saturday, and it promising to snow again at any minute. So come on. Bring whatever you need out of there’—he thumbed into the car—‘and let’s get moving.’

  As if each were obeying an elder, they both took out the cases from the boot and obediently got into the back of the Land Rover; and seemingly within a split second they had bounded over the rough road and landed in the farmyard. Within minutes they were inside the house and Daniel saw the kitchen of Hillburn Farm for the first time. And there came over him the most odd feeling, a terrifyingly odd feeling.

  Perhaps it was the sudden heat of the room after the cold outside that had brought it on again. Twice before he’d experienced this same feeling. Once, when his mother thrashed him for no reason he could see except that he was playing his records. He had played one three times because he liked it; it was an oldie by Jim Reeves called “I Can’t Stop Loving You”. They were bringing a lot of oldies back at the club, besides Elvis. She had seemed to go berserk. The second time he had felt like this was the night she left them. On both occasions he had cried; and now he wanted to cry again…but why?

  Chapter Two

  It was two hours later, yet it seemed to Daniel that he had been in this farm kitchen-cum-living room for two days, two weeks, two years, for the place and people seemed so familiar to him now that he might have been acquainted with them all his life.

  The room was stone-flagged and had an open fireplace, yet modern amenities, from a fridge and washing machine to an Aga cooker, from the oven of which Mrs Everton, as he now knew her to be, had some time earlier taken a large casserole dish on the top of which bubbled brown dumplings. The meal was such that Daniel couldn’t remember having tasted anything like it before.

  He had learned that the young man’s name was Michael, and the hilarity that he had caused at the meal bore out his first impression of him being a joker. But he also learned that he was a hard-working joker. Immediately they entered the house he had disappeared, only to reappear minutes later in working clothes and accompanied by his sister who had also changed her clothes.

  It was their mother who explained they were bound for the cow byres, saying as she busied herself around the kitchen, ‘It’s routine, you’ve got to stick to it on a farm. Animals have their own time and they see that you learn it.’

  For over half an hour he had sat in a deep leather chair to the side of the open fire at the end of the room and listened to his father and Mrs Everton in conversation. He learned that Mr Everton had been in hospital for three weeks with kidney trouble, and apparently it wasn’t his first visit there. There had been a sadness in Mrs Everton’s voice as she said, ‘He should have had himself seen to ages ago, but he wouldn’t give in until Michael left school and was able to take over.’

  ‘You are lucky to have him then,’ his father had replied, and to this Mrs Everton said, ‘And I know it and I thank God for him.’ And then she added, ‘You might get the impression that he’s light-minded because of his joking manner but he has a serious side, and I’ve known times when I’ve longed to hear him joke. That was during his last year at school when he realised how much his father needed him full-time here. He and his father were great pals, and it’s odd you know—’ Daniel had watched her stop laying the cutlery on the table and look towards his father as she added, ‘my husband hasn’t the slightest sense of humour. We could be roaring our heads off at something we had seen on the television but there he would be sitting straight-faced. Michael used to say he’d given up laughing for Lent.’

  Daniel couldn’t believe that they were to stay here tonight, but it seemed to have been a foregone conclusion since they entered the house, for after they’d had the meal Michael had said, ‘I’ll take you upstairs and show you where you are to sleep.’

  His father had protested politely, saying, ‘But it’s an imposition. I…I never expected—’ only to be cut short by Michael saying bluntly, ‘Where did you expect to sleep then, out in your four-wheeled ancient monument? Or in Ramsey’s ruin?’ Apparently Ramsey’s ruin was the cottage that had once belonged to a man of that name.

  The bedroom was one of four leading off a square landing. The landing itself, Daniel noticed, was bigger than their own sitting room, and when, standing in the middle of it, he voiced this as he looked around him, Michael said, ‘The house is much bigger than it looks from the outside,’ and pointing to where another staircase led upwards, he said, ‘There are three big attic rooms up there an’ all. That’s where we keep the family ghost, and the heirlooms. And mind, we search everybody before they leave.’

  As Michael switched on the light and led the way into the bedroom Daniel thought that he might just get a bit tired of this young fellow’s wisecracking; like the saying, you can get too much of a good thing. He wondered if he ever talked in an ordinary fashion without interposing quips and suchlike.

  The bedroom was solidly and well furnished which Michael pointed out, saying, ‘Best room in the house, this. The only thing is it faces north and is inclined to be a bit nippy in the winter. Anyway, there’re plenty of blankets.’ He thumbed towards the bed. Then going towards the door and pointing, he said, ‘Usual offices right opposite.’

  ‘Thank you. Thank you very much.’ Mr Jones said.

  The door had hardly closed before it was opened again and their young host, putting his head round it, said, ‘Don’t go to bed yet, ’tisn’t every night we have four for cards and I can do some fleecing…Do some fleecing!’ He pulled a face before closing the door again.

  Finally left alone, Mr Jones looked at Daniel and, pulling a wry face now himself, said, ‘What is known as a smart lad,’ at the same time drawing the side of his forefinger across the bottom of his nose; and as Daniel laughed he protested in a whisper, ‘Oh, don’t you start, Dad. Two of you would be one too many, in fact two too many.’

  ‘Watch out; you’re at it an’ all.’

  Daniel smiled, then said, ‘But they are kind, very kind. His mother’s nice, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, yes, she’s a very nice woman, I should say, and so is the girl. Why didn’t you talk to her?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. I…I suppose it’s because she didn’t have much to say herself, and she has that slow way of talking.’

  ‘Yes, I noticed that, at first at least. But after a while her voice changed and she was speaking ordinarily. I think perhaps she’s shy. Well now, let’s get sorted out.’ And as Mr Jones opened his case he added, ‘I thi
nk I’ll take my coat off and put a sweater on. What about you?’

  ‘What? Yes, oh yes, me too.’ But before Daniel opened his case he stopped and looked at his father and said, ‘It’s been a strange day, hasn’t it? At least it has for me. There was an awful row with Mam when she knew I’d phoned for you. And that fellow of hers talking father talk at me; he made me sick. And then the car breaking down, and meeting these kind people and landing up in this farmhouse. It’s so peaceful here, isn’t it? I never wanted to live in the country, as you know, but this is different.’ And as his father smiled at him he added, ‘Will I use the bathroom first?’

  ‘Yes, go on.’

  Daniel now went onto the landing and was crossing to the door opposite when he was brought round sharply by a conversation taking place on the stairs. There was a light in the hall down below and it showed up the head and shoulders of both the brother and sister of the house. Michael had his back towards him and was standing on the step above Sally and she was saying in a pleading tone, ‘You won’t, Michael? Oh,you won’t?’ And Michael’s hissing reply came to Daniel, saying, ‘No, I won’t. All right, I told you, I won’t.’ And on this he put his hands on his sister’s shoulders and shook her; then turning her about, he pushed her down the two stairs into the hall below. And whether Michael was about to follow her or make his way up the stairs Daniel didn’t wait to see, but he almost sprang to the bathroom door and, pushing it open, entered, then stood with his hands behind him on the knob, his teeth nipping his lower lip as he asked himself what it was all about. Sally had seemed frightened. Why was she pleading with her brother like that? And his treatment of her had been anything but gentle. Just a minute ago he had been thinking all was peace and tranquillity in this house, but that incident had given no evidence of peace and tranquillity, much the reverse.

  It had been a strange day, a very strange day.

  They were in bed early, just before ten. As Mrs Everton had said, they went to bed early because the day started early on a farm. His father and Mrs Everton had talked quite a lot during the evening. She hadn’t played cards but had sat by the fireside knitting, and when she made any remark his father would turn from the table and answer her very pleasantly. And this had prompted Michael eventually to ask, ‘Are you going to play cards or are you going to talk?’ And they had all laughed.