Lanky Jones Read online

  Mrs Everton looked at the clock and said, ‘He’s been gone over two hours.’ Going to the back door, she called across the yard, ‘Michael!’ And when Michael appeared at the door of the cow byres, she said, ‘You don’t think Daniel’s made for home, hitch-hiked it?’

  ‘No, no. He’s just keeping out of the way to make sure. Once he’s seen the car go he’ll be back.’

  ‘Had he a coat on?’

  ‘I don’t know. He went out of the room, as you know, like a devil in a gale of wind.’

  ‘It’s looking like rain; I think you should go and have a look for him, because if he’s out on the hills and the mist comes down…well, you know.’

  ‘All right. Give me ten minutes till I finish off, Mam, then I’ll go.’

  ‘Put your mac on; it’s going to turn nasty, I think.’ She looked up to the sky. Then a minute later, as she fastened the top button of Sally’s coat, she said, ‘Don’t go far; we don’t want to go out looking for you an’ all.’

  ‘That’ll be the day when you start looking for me. I know these hills better than you do, Mam, having been with Michael on the trails.’

  ‘Go on, Miss Smarty.’ Her mother pushed her and Sally went off laughing …

  Three hours later Mrs Everton was to remember every word of their light exchanges, as she, among others, searched the hills for her daughter and the boy who had come to spend his summer holiday on the farm.

  Chapter Eight

  As she had said, she knew the hills, but she also knew that no-one was safe on the hills in the mist, even the experienced fell walkers. And there it was coming down floating towards her like a dirty grey cloud.

  Sally had come further than she had intended. She was near Poulton’s old empty house. Well, it had been an old empty house, but some people had taken it last year and were doing it up at weekends. But the work was progressing slowly and as yet only the roof had been mended. Some of the lower windows had boards across with plastic sheeting stretched over them.

  The house stood back about ten yards from a side road that was little more than a track, and from where she stood she couldn’t see if there was a car or a van standing to the side of the house. The times she had been this way she had noted that the people often came in a van. She had seen the owner of the van once as he was driving away. He had thick brown hair and a beard. He had lifted his hand in salute to her and she had waved back.

  She paused and stared towards the house. Could Daniel have taken shelter in there? He had likely run out without a coat, and the mist was already penetrating her own mac and making her shiver. Yet she doubted whether he would go into a strange house even if it were empty, unless of course he was asked in.

  She paused for a moment deliberating whether to hurry on back home or to go and see if she could look in one of the windows. He might even be sheltering in the outhouses at the back; there was a kind of courtyard there. The last time she had seen it, it had been strewn with grass, but she had imagined it could be nice if it were cleared.

  The decision as to what to do seemed to have been made by her legs because now she was running towards the house. The double wooden farm-type gate was wide open. She stepped off the rough path and hurried through the tall wet grass to the front window on the left side of the door. There had been fresh plastic sheeting put over the boards here, and she could see nothing inside. She passed the front door and attempted to look through the other window, but this too was covered in the same way.

  She hurried round the side of the house, her footsteps muted by the matted grass. There was no vehicle in the courtyard but she noticed immediately that the back door was slightly ajar. She went to it and pushed it open; then stood transfixed at what she saw, as also did the three occupants of the room, the two men who were standing and the bound figure on the floor.

  When the man with the beard sprang towards her there came into her head that recognised whirling that made her mouth spring wide and dragged up from the depths of her a great protesting scream.

  The man had grabbed her by the shoulders, but now he almost threw her from him and, her eyeballs rolling, she fell to the floor in a screaming writhing bundle of twitching limbs.

  When at last the terrifying sound faded, three pairs of eyes watched her teeth digging into her lower lip as her body became almost rigid; then, as if from a balloon, the air seemed to be let out of her and her limbs relaxed and she lay supine. The only sound now was her breathing that was like a series of snorts.

  ‘Good God! That was a fit…She had a fit!’

  ‘Aye.’ Billy Combo looked down on Sally as he remarked, ‘She’s given to them. That’s another thing they tried to hide. But this is a nice kettle of fish, two of ’em.’

  ‘What are we gonna do?’

  ‘I’ll have to think.’ Combo rubbed his chin with his hand. Then glancing at the bound and gagged figure of Daniel, he said, ‘I know what I’m gonna do with that ’un. Right from the start I knew what I was gonna do with him. If only the damned lorry hadn’t broken down.’

  ‘I told you we should have made another contact.’

  ‘Don’t talk soft, Arthur. Go to one of the garages should we and say, “Lend us a van, mister, to transport wor stolen sheep down to Shields quay?” Aw, man, I think most of your brains is in your beard, and you’ll be a dead loss if ever you shave that off. Look, I’ll go down to the main road and phone. And you get in the shed there and skin ’em ready. And see you put plenty of taties on top of each one in the plastic bags. We don’t want any slip-up on the dock side; it nearly happened last time.’

  ‘Why don’t you just let them go to the butchers? There’s plenty’ll take them.’

  ‘And for what? Pin money, compared with what the foreigners give us for a few extra miles of cartage. Have sense, man. Now go on, get out and get started.’

  ‘What about her? She wants tying up an’ all, doesn’t she?’

  ‘If past times is anything to go by she’ll sleep till the mornin’.’

  ‘Look, I don’t like it. I can understand about him—’ the man nodded towards Daniel—‘but she…she’s only a bit lass.’

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll drop her off somewhere along the way, miles out, and when they find her we’ll be well in the middle of the ocean. And this lanky townie with us.’ He had turned swiftly and jabbed Daniel in the side with his boot, and as Daniel’s eyes blazed back at him Combo bent over him and said, ‘Aye, you can look like that, but before I say farewell to you, me lad, you won’t be able to see out of either of them. You’ll regret the day you showed me up.’

  Helplessly, Daniel watched the two men go out of the room, closing the door behind them. And from where he sat propped against the wall he looked at the limp form of Sally and, for the moment forgetting his own fate, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of sadness and pity. The mystery of the screaming was solved; but oh, how he wished for her sake it could have some other solution. Poor, poor Sally. That’s why her mother wouldn’t let her go to discos; that’s why she couldn’t ride. He recalled now the conversation at the bottom of the stairs between the brother and sister and he knew that she had been pleading with Michael not to mention the fact that she was epileptic. That was why, too, she slept up in the attic when there were strangers in the house. Yet didn’t they know that her screams could be heard down below? Well, his father hadn’t heard them and he himself had only heard them because he was a light sleeper.

  Oh, if she’d only wake up. If he could only get this gag out of his mouth. He could hardly breathe. And his arms were breaking; the rope was cutting into his wrists.

  In a sudden desperate movement he fell onto his side and wriggled his body towards Sally until his feet were touching her shoulder, and in no gentle fashion he now began to push her.

  For almost five minutes he pushed at her, thrusting his feet against her arm. But in spite of all his efforts her body remained inert, her head lying to the side, the saliva running out of the corner of her mouth …

  Always after a seizure Sally had been made comfortable. Usually, a water bottle was put at her feet, blankets were tucked round her, the thin bone ruler that had been placed between her teeth to prevent her biting her lips was drawn away, and her hair stroked gently from her forehead. All this had tended towards relaxed sleep. Never before had she been pushed, even thumped into wakefulness. She was aware of a great dizziness in her head. She felt very tired. She wanted to sleep, but something was stopping her. Somewhere in her mind a voice was crying. ‘Mam! Mam!’

  The voice grew louder and she now felt herself being rocked from side to side. The voice in her head changed and now called, ‘Michael! Michael!’ The rocking was still going on. She was floating upwards through a blackness that slowly turned to grey. The rocking was hurting her; her arm ached. The grey light became white; it was on her eyelids. She wished Michael would stop rocking her; he was hurting her arm. Why was he doing it? He had never hurt her on purpose. He sometimes got angry with her when she acted silly and got into a temper about having fits. Why should she have fits? Other girls didn’t have fits. She couldn’t have any fun, not like other girls. Oh dear. Oh dear. Her head was going round. If only he would stop hurting her arm…Oh! That was an awful push. Why was he doing it?

  Slowly she opened her eyes. Her lids felt heavy. She looked upwards. The rocking had stopped. Where was she? The ceiling was dirty. This wasn’t her bedroom. Slowly she turned her head to the side and as if the mist had invaded the room she saw through it the trussed figure of Daniel. His head was on a level with hers, only some distance away. There was a rag hanging from his mouth. She should pull it out, but she was so tired.

  As she went to close her eyes again the rocking started once more and she blinked, rapidly now. It wasn’t Michael, it was Daniel, and he was kicking her, kicking her arm. He wanted something. Now he was wriggling towards her. His face was near her; she only had to put her hand up and pull that rag from his mouth. She stared into his face. His head was moving in a pitying sort of way. She wanted to help him, but she was tired, all she wanted to do was sleep. He was moving his head down now by the side of her arm. His cheek was near her hand. Go on, she said to herself, do that for Daniel, because you like him. He’s been nicer to you than any of the Threadgill boys. They had never wanted to walk with her or talk with her …

  There, she had made the effort and she was looking into Daniel’s face again. His mouth was working and he was spitting. It wasn’t nice to spit, but likely the rag was dirty.

  ‘Sally! Sally! Wake up! Wake up! Do you hear?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Come on, wake up! Sally! Listen. You can hear me, can’t you? You can understand what I’m saying? Look at me, Sally. Sally! My life depends upon you, upon you getting home and telling Michael and Mr Threadgill and the others. Oh, Sally! Sally, wake up. Come on, wake up!’

  ‘Oh, Daniel.’ Sally had pulled herself onto her elbow now and, looking at him, she said, ‘I…I feel dizzy.’

  ‘Kneel up. Come on. Come.’

  Slowly she did as he bade her. Then looking at his ankles, she said, ‘I…I can’t untie them, I’m very tired, Daniel.’

  ‘I know you can’t untie them. Anyway, you couldn’t in any case, it’s tarred rope and they’ve made a good job of it. But look. Go on outside. Go quietly, and get home.’

  ‘I…I can’t, Daniel. I’m…I’m very tired.’

  He had his face close to hers now. ‘Listen to me. Do you want me to die?’

  ‘Oh no, Daniel. No, Daniel.’

  ‘Well then, get on your feet and get home. And listen. Listen carefully. They’re taking the sheep, and me, to a boat that’s lying berthed in Shields. Have you got that? A boat that’s berthed in Shields. It’ll be sailing on the morning tide. Listen. Listen, Sally. Tell them it’s a foreign boat…Oh good, good; you’re standing up. Now go on, quietly.’

  ‘I’ll…I’ll fall.’

  ‘No, you won’t. Once you get in the air, you’ll be better. Oh, Sally, go on, quickly.’

  As if still in a dream, Sally stumbled towards the door and when she pulled it open and it creaked loudly, Daniel closed his eyes tightly and bowed his head, expecting any minute that the big bearded fellow would come dashing towards her and thrust her into the room again. But there was no sound from outside. For a moment he thought she must have fallen down and was lying there inert again. But then his attention was brought round to the sound of footsteps beyond the window. They were light, as if someone were walking in slippered feet on a carpet. Again he closed his eyes. She had got that far. And feeling so far relieved, he edged himself back towards the wall and forced himself up into the position in which they had left him. But now as he waited for Combo’s return he was filled with fear such as be had never experienced before …

  Outside, the mist was thick and Sally stumbled into it, not really conscious of the direction she was taking. Twice she tripped and fell down. The second time she had a great desire to stay where she was lying on the wet hillside, but her shivering brought her to her feet again.

  The mist was coming in patches. One minute she could see yards ahead, the next she was enveloped as if in swathes of gauze. In one clear patch she saw the road ahead and a van passing along it. The sight of the van stirred something within her, which told her she must get home quickly. Yes, she must get home. But which way was home?

  She was still so tired, so very sleepy. At one point she found she was crying. She hadn’t known she was crying, she had thought it was the mist running down her face, until she began to whimper, ‘Oh, Mam. Mam.’ Then she was adding another name: ‘Michael. Michael. Michael.’ And soon she was calling another name and out aloud now: ‘Daniel. Daniel.’

  When she stumbled against the small stone erection, she smiled to herself. She knew where she was now. It was Mr Beaconsfield’s lambing shed. Oh, that was nice. Likely there was straw inside there and she could lie down and go to sleep again and be warm. Oh, she wanted to be warm and to sleep.

  She crawled into the small stone hut and lay down on the damp straw, and within minutes she had fallen asleep again.

  ‘Dear God! What could have happened to them?’ Mary Everton looked from Farmer Threadgill to his companion Farmer Newberry, then on to Peter Jones, and when she said, ‘Not a sign of either of them?’ it was a question, and it was Farmer Threadgill who answered, ‘No, Mary; and it’s as black as ink out there. It’s hopeless looking further until the morning.’

  ‘What!’ Daniel’s father rounded on them. ‘We’ve got lanterns, haven’t we? And if the rescue team can go out, we can…at least, I can.’

  ‘Excuse me for saying so, but you know nothing about these parts, or its weather, Mr Jones. The search party will have given up by now and we should be hearing from them at any minute. As for the children, they’ve likely found some shelter, an old barn or underneath a knoll of some sort. There’s the phone now. That’ll likely be Jim Wade.’

  Mary Everton ran down the kitchen towards the hall doorway, there to see Michael picking up the phone. Then she watched his mouth widen and his face brighten and she heard him say, ‘Oh, thank you, Mr Beaconsfield! Thank you. We’ll be over immediately.’

  He banged the phone down and, turning to his mother, he said, ‘They’ve found her…Mr Beaconsfield. She was fast asleep in the lambing hut.’

  They exchanged a quick glance which spoke as plainly as words saying, she must have had one of her turns.

  They were both in the kitchen now crying their news, and amid the bustle of getting into coats, Mr Jones’s voice came quietly: ‘And Daniel…is he with her?’

  Mary Everton now looked sadly at him, saying, ‘He…didn’t say,’ she said; ‘he…he only mentioned her name. But…but likely he’s found shelter an’ all. He’s certain to. Don’t worry.’ She put her hand out and touched his sleeve, then said softly, ‘Go with Michael to pick her up. I’ll stay here in case there’s further news.’

  Mr Jones said nothing to this but turned silently away and followed Michael and the farmers out of the kitchen. And Mary, once the door was closed, began to busy herself, filling hot-water bottles, putting extra blankets on Sally’s bed, setting a pan of broth on the stove to heat; and when all this was done she sat to the side of the fire, her eyes on the door, her ears alert for the return of the Land Rover.

  She hadn’t long to wait.

  Michael laid Sally down on the rug before the fire, saying as he did so, ‘She’s frozen stiff. Another couple of hours out there and she’d have been a goner. Get something hot into her, Mam.’

  The warmth, the tender hands, the hot liquid that was sliding effortlessly down her gullet, brought Sally some way back to consciousness. When she opened her eyes and saw her mother’s face above her, she had the feeling she had been sent on some message and that she should now deliver it. But what had she been sent for? What had she to bring back?

  ‘There, there, my dear. You’re all right.’ The voice was soothing, sleep-inducing again. But she struggled against it. She had been sent on an errand of some sort and she must tell her mother. But what had she to tell her?

  As she felt a warm wet cloth passing over her mouth she remembered the errand, at least part of it. It was to do with the cloth in Daniel’s mouth. She opened her eyes and said, ‘Daniel.’

  ‘Yes, dear? Yes…Daniel? Where is he? Did you see him?’

  ‘Gag, Mam.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  Michael who was kneeling on the mat at Sally’s side turned his head and, looking up at Mr Jones, he said, ‘It sounded like gag.’

  ‘And to me too.’ Mr Jones bent forward and appealed to Mary: ‘Can’t you waken her up? She might be able to tell us something.’

  ‘I doubt it at this stage.’ Mary turned her face towards him. ‘She must have had a turn.’