9

Ruth

Meeting the Hill Farmer

Ruth huddled against the wall of the cave. Cold numbed her, deadening the excruciating pain that had racked her body as she’d stumbled along. Willpower had kept her going, and the reason behind this strong urge to make it was the force that had given her the strength to get this far. For herself, she felt wretched and would have gladly given up and let death take her, but she had to find a way of saving the others. She had to! And for that, she’d suffer anything.

These thoughts were at odds with what she knew to be the reality of their situation. There was little hope that she could do anything to help her siblings. Acknowledging this finally caused her to curl her body up into a ball, as trembling sobs of despair coursed through her. But weeping hadn’t helped. It had only compounded her desolation, so she’d fought against giving in to the heartbreak that engulfed her and instead tried to find some hope, some strength to carry on.

Hunger gnawed at her, as did thirst, but both vied with the cold. Closing her eyes, Ruth rested her screaming mind for a moment, though she dared not go to sleep for fear of never waking again. Despite these thoughts, she must have drifted off, because when the sounds of another being nearby came to her, they startled her awake. Hardly daring to breathe, she listened. Had someone followed her? Or was the sound that of a wild animal?

Keeping stock-still, she listened, feeling great relief mix with her apprehension as the kindly tones of a man talking to his horse drifted into the cave.

‘Come on, me lass. We’ll not get any further in this darkness. I’ll tether you to your favourite tree. It’ll give you shelter, and there’s still some grass under it for you. There you go. I’ll unhitch the cart, so you can have your freedom. By, it’s cold the neet, me lass.’

The rasping of a match on stone brought a small flicker of light towards Ruth. This was quickly followed by a brighter one, as the sounds of an oil lamp being pumped and brought up to full power came to her. Her body wouldn’t move, though she didn’t feel any fear. Something told her this man wouldn’t hurt her. She’d ask him for help. But though she tried to call out, she could only manage a croaky sound.

‘What were that? Who’s there?’

Thank God he’d heard her. Trying again, this time a moan was all her throat would release, but it brought him nearer, and the light from his lamp now bathed the space around her in a soft glow. She could see his outline. He looked huge, fat even, but had the stance of a younger man than she’d first thought, from his talk with his horse.

Still, she didn’t feel threatened when he asked, ‘What’re you doing here, eh?’ His lamp blinded her as he leaned further over her. Her body cringed away from it. ‘Christ! It’s a woman! Eeh, lass, don’t be afraid. I’ll not hurt you. Me and Aggie, me horse, we come this way regular. I bring a cartload of me vegetables and me milk cans over, to sell in the early-morning market.’

The man’s logic in thinking that if she was afraid, this explanation would make her less so, marked him out as harmless. Though Ruth’s dry throat still wouldn’t let her talk to him.

‘Here, I’ll get you a drink o’ water, lass. You sound reet parched.’

The cool water choked her at first, but as Ruth swallowed some of it down, it soothed her and brought some life back into her. As it did so, her body shivered against the cold.

‘Eeh, lass, I’ll fetch you a blanket and then I’ll make a fire. We need to get you warm.’ It didn’t seem five minutes later that flames licked the wall of the cave near the entrance. ‘There, that’s better. I allus set me fire against the wall – gives more warmth that way, as the rocks heat up an’ all. Look, you can see where it has blackened them from me previous visits. Mind, smoke’s a problem, but you can sit out of its way.’

The flames warmed every part of her, helping Ruth to unfold her body, limb by limb.

‘That’s better, lass. Now, can you tell me why you’re here? Naw, on second thoughts, don’t do that yet. I shouldn’t have asked you. Wait a while whilst I get some hot water on. I have tea, though I don’t suppose you have ever tasted it afore. You’ll like it. It picks you up some. And I have some of me ma’s stew an’ all. She allus makes me some for me journey, along with chunks of her best baking of bread. I’ll soon have it all on the go. I’ll just take some water to Aggie and put a blanket over her. She’ll need it the neet.’

As her bones relaxed, Ruth felt this was a nice man. He made her feel safe and cared for. She’d tell him the truth of it – but not about her killing the Earl. She’d not tell him that, for fear he was a God-fearing man and would think it his duty to give her up to the police. But the rest, and her worries for her brothers and sisters . . . she’d tell him all of that.

The steam from the hot tea he handed her dampened her cheeks as she lifted the enamel mug to her lips.

‘There you go. Now then, me name’s Josh, short for Joshua. And like I said, I’m a farmer. I have a farm some ten miles afore you reach Pradley. Me land is on the edge of the Bowland Hills, but on the other side from here.’

His voice further soothed her as he told her how he made this trek to Blackburn once a month to the markets, but also sold his wares at Pradley market. He went on to describe where he lived. ‘Some of me land is flat – well, flat-ish – where I grow me vegetables, but most of it is high ground where me sheep graze. Me and ma’s house is up high an’ all. It has lovely views, though, and it’s peaceful. Not many visit, as it is a bit of a steep climb. But I’ve done it all me life now, and I’m used to it. I have to walk Aggie up and down it, as it’s safer to lead her than to ride on the cart, though she’s a strong carthorse and has managed some good loads. Now, that’s who I am. What about you, lass? What plight does you find yourself in, that you must take shelter in a cave, eh?’

‘Me name’s Ruth, and I have tasted tea afore. Nowt like this, though. Ma—’ Just to mention her ma brought a great sadness to her, but she swallowed hard against the constriction of her throat and continued, ‘Me ma used to say as what we had were the sweepings from the deck of the ship that brought the tea over the water, but it were thirst-quenching and hot. I come from Pradley, though we never went to market. Me da did, with sheep and stuff, but we ate the produce of the farm me da worked on. It were a hard life, but, well, we were happy in a way.’ To Ruth’s shame, she found that despite her best efforts not to, she was sobbing by the time she’d told all.

‘Eeh, lass, you’ve sommat to cry over there. Let it all out. It’ll do you more harm keeping it in. So now you’ve nowhere to go – well, except to this butcher fellow. Aye, I know of him and I crossed paths with your da an’ all. Nice man, your da. But that Whalley Bradstone . . . Eeh, I wouldn’t like to think of you hitched to him. He ain’t looking for someone to love and care for. He’s after a slave. He’d kill you off, as you don’t look strong to me.’

‘I – I can do a lot of stuff, but I have this curve in me back and this foot—’

‘Aye, I can see, lass. And that’s where the mystery is with Whalley wanting you, as you wouldn’t be a lot of use to him. I’m thinking it were more lust, as you’re a beauty. You may not look your best just now, but I can see as you’re an attractive lass and have a nice figure.’

This was said in a matter-of-fact way that didn’t alarm Ruth. He might have been talking about the merits of Aggie as much as about her own merits.

‘I don’t usually dress like this. Them as I told you of, they put these on me. I ain’t got any others.’

‘I realize that. Look, lass, you can come home with me, if you have a mind to. Ma would like that. You’d be company for her, and could help her with her mending and other little jobs as you could manage, like feeding hens and collecting eggs, and maybe a bit of churning, though we’d have to see about that. She’s a good ’un, me ma – hard-working and of a sunny disposition, but she’s getting on a bit; she’ll be sixty next, and she gets lonely when I’m off on me treks. And in return for your help, you’ll be fed well and will have warmth and a room to yourself. And when I make me visits to Blackburn, I’ll make enquiries as to your family. How does that sound, eh?’

‘Aw, ta, Josh, ta ever so much.’ Ruth had to fight against the tears coming again, but she managed it. ‘And I’ll make it up that hill of yours. I can, if I put me mind to it. I came across the Bowland Hills, walked all the way from Pradley to near Clitheroe, though I couldn’t manage the steep bridle paths.’

‘Naw, and you won’t manage the hill to mine, neither, but Aggie’ll give you a lift up it and bring you down, when you needs to. That’s settled, then. And with you nice and warm and fed, and having some prospect for the future, you should sleep well the neet. I have some bales of straw on me cart; I’ll get one in and make a mattress of it for you.’

Lying on the soft, sweet-smelling straw, once she’d managed to tame any prickly bits that dug into her, Ruth couldn’t believe her luck. She was saved. And the life in front of her sounded like heaven. She’d not have to give herself to Whalley Bradstone, or fear those in Pradley town, who would throw stones or call her names. Nor would she be in fear of one of the lads in the town kicking her crutch from under her arm as they sped by her, leaving her rolling on the ground, unable to get up until someone who dared touch her stopped and helped her, or one of her brothers came looking for her – but then she’d also be away from all of those she loved most in the world. And though she’d never see her ma and da again, she prayed to God that one day she’d be reunited with her sisters and brothers.

It wasn’t much after dawn when Josh woke her. ‘We’ve to get on the road, lass. I’ve made some more tea. It’s just brewing. Here, have this slice. It’ll put a lining on your stomach. Stays fresh for days, does Ma’s bread. I’ve put a bit of dripping on it. You need some fat in you on these cold mornings.’

The tea warmed her and the bread tasted delicious. Pork fat, she’d have said, though Josh hadn’t mentioned keeping pigs. She hoped he did, as she liked pigs. The saying ‘mucky as a pig’ weren’t true. They were clean animals in their habits; they just liked wallowing in mud.

‘Does you need a hand up, lass?’

‘Aye, I do, ta.’

‘Right, there you go. Now, I’ll get meself busy with Aggie, while you does what you needs to.’

Her cheeks flushed at this, as she knew what he meant. She didn’t say anything, but she went into the bushes as she had a strong need on her to relieve herself.

It took the rest of the day to reach Josh’s house, even though Aggie got up to a good trot on the smoother and straighter parts of the road. The last bit of the journey Ruth did with her heart in her mouth, convinced that she’d fall off the cart and over the edge of the cliff at any moment. ‘Eeh, Josh, why did your forebears build up here?’

‘You’ll see when you get there. It’s the only bit of our land we own that’s suitable. We need the lower fells for the crops, as they get plenty of moisture down there and a fair bit of sun in summer. But up here we have a kind of “table” of land, and the field for the cattle. That slopes, but only as much as they can cope with. Sheep are different: they can roam steep terrain, though we do lose a few to the elements, and the odd one slips and falls to its death. But up top we have enough space for our barns and the dairy, and a pen for our pigs.’

‘Eeh, I like pigs!’

‘Ha, so do I. They’re canny, are pigs. And they give us plenty of meat for ourselves, and for the market, as do all our animals.’ He spoke with pride and love. Aye, she could tell Josh loved his work and his home; it shone through every word he spoke. ‘We have a run for the hens, though you might fall out with the cockerel we have. He’s a noisy blighter. Mind, he’s nearly had his time, and he’ll be in one of Ma’s stews soon. He’s not doing his job so well; he just crows loudly about it, but doesn’t get on with it, so we’ll be bringing in a younger one afore long.’

She laughed at this. She felt at home with Josh. The daylight had shown that what she’d thought of as his large girth turned out to be muscle, not fat. His thick, unruly blond hair and bushy eyebrows looked almost white against his tanned, weathered face. His eyes matched what she thought of his nature – kindly. Pale blue, they twinkled when he laughed. Altogether, she thought Josh a handsome man who she’d put at around thirty, though he could be younger, as his hard-working life hadn’t done him any favours. It had calloused his hands and aged his skin, making it rough and thick-looking. Not that it mattered what he looked like, because Ruth liked him – liked him a lot. All of Josh, even down to the smell of him, which had wafted towards her when he’d lifted her up onto the cart. A fresh, outdoor smell – that of a clean man, but one who was always around animals and the land; and a familiar one that brought back memories of her da. But despite this sad memory, happiness was settling inside her, as was hope, and that was all down to Josh.

Though they had only just met, she could feel something between them: an ease in each other’s company and an awareness of each other. Not that Josh had the same effect on her as the new Earl of Harrogate had done. The memory of the moment when the Earl had stared into her eyes sent a tremble through Ruth, evoking a feeling that she couldn’t define. It had given her waves of anticipated pleasure that had rippled through her body.

Oh, she was being silly! Nothing could come of it. But she knew that if it turned out that Josh wanted her and asked her to wed him, she’d do so gladly. Eeh, what am I thinking? I’ve only just met him. She giggled at this thought. Josh looked back at her, his eyebrows raised, but didn’t quiz Ruth as to what had amused her. If he had, she’d have told him it was down to excitement and the feeling of being safe. And some of that feeling was due to him not showing any revulsion at her affliction, and that boded well for her, as that was all she ever wanted from folk.

The first sight of the house pebbled her arms with goosebumps and had the hairs standing on end, as its bleakness filled her with foreboding. A large house, it stood as if in defiance against the elements. Its grey stone walls hadn’t weathered well: they had dulled with the constant hammering of the extreme weather conditions that prevailed in the area. Snow lay on the rooftop, and icicles hung from the windows like teardrops. The wind howled around the building and those surrounding it, and as it gushed through the narrow gaps between the buildings, it moaned in a long, drawn-out sound of despair. Doors creaked, and one of them banged and opened, then banged again. The fragile hope that Ruth held within her died, and trepidation took its place.

‘Aw, lass, don’t look so scared. You’re seeing it at its worst. Come spring, you won’t know the place. Daffodils dance all around the garden and the sun brightens everywhere. Anyroad, you’ll find it warm and inviting inside, no matter what the weather. Lean towards me. I’ll catch you and help you down, lass.’

She didn’t speak. The feeling the place evoked hadn’t left her, and Josh’s next words compounded it.

‘Eeh, it’s not this place that should have you scared. It’s over yonder, Pendle Hill. Can you see it in the distance, over there, that large hill in the direction of Clitheroe? That’s where—’

‘Aye, I knaw.’

‘Well, the poor devils taken there still haunt it, they reckon.’

His laugh didn’t lighten what he’d said, as Ruth could feel the presence of the women burned as witches and hear their wails and screams. And with the feeling came the curses of those back in Pradley, and a dread seeped into her . . . of what, she didn’t know.

Turning away, she looked over Josh’s shoulder as he lifted her down, keeping her eyes on the house as he lowered her. The curtain twitched, just for a second – no doubt his ma, peeking at what he’d brought home with him. Before Ruth had her good foot on firm ground, the door opened and framed a large woman, almost as big as Josh. She had to bend to get through the door. A crisp white pinny, which looked as though she’d just donned it, covered the front of her long grey frock. Grey curls escaped from under her mobcap. A question creased her square-looking face.

‘Eeh, lad, what have you done? Who’s this as you’ve brought home, then?’

‘I’m Ruth, Missus. Josh said as I can be of help to you and—’

‘Help? What help can a cripple be to me? Josh, have you lost your mind?’

‘Now, Ma.’

‘I may be a cripple, Missus, but I can do a lot of things, and I’ll be no trouble to you. I can cook and mend and sew, and Josh said as I could feed the hens and collect the eggs, so them things’ll be useful to you, won’t they?’ Ruth could hear the plea in her own voice, and could almost touch the hostility in Josh’s ma’s.

‘More like you’ll be another burden, lass. With that gammy foot and, by the looks of you, unable to stand straight, you’ll need looking out for, more than you’ll contribute.’

Disappointment filled Ruth. Josh had said as his ma had a sunny disposition. Well, she might have with him, but she wasn’t about to extend it to her, by the looks of it.

‘Ma! What kind of a welcome is that, eh? Ruth’s out on her feet, and aye, she will need help for a few days, but after that she’ll be a help to you.’

‘Huh!’

This parting huff of disdain compounded the dread that had settled inside Ruth. Part of her was wishing Josh hadn’t brought her here, but if he hadn’t, she doubted she’d have been going anywhere other than to hell. Because she’d surely have died and, no matter how she looked at it, she was a sinner. A killer on the run.

‘Don’t pay any heed to me ma. She can take a bit of persuading to any changes I want to make. I’ve been on about getting her help for a good bit now, but she’s resisted. She’ll not like it, cos she’ll think I went ahead without her wanting me to. But when she hears circumstances of how I came to bring you here, she’ll come round.’

‘Aye, well, we’ll see. I’ll do me best to please her.’

‘Reet, that’s good. But you’re not a prisoner here, lass. If you don’t settle and you don’t feel happy, I’ll take you down to Pradley and you can take your chance with Whalley Bradstone as you planned.’

As she hobbled towards the house, Ruth knew she wouldn’t be doing that. However difficult it was to live with Josh’s ma, she’d put up with it, cos she liked Josh, and she knew he’d help her find the young ’uns. Besides, she’d be safe up here. But then why did she have this feeling of trepidation in the pit of her stomach – especially when she looked over at Pendle Hill? Her body trembled at the very name of the place and the thought of what had gone on up there. Aye, it might have been two hundred years since, but to her it was as if she were part of it. She couldn’t get the fate of the Pendle Witches out of her head. She could almost hear their cries of despair as they faced their death, on what had become a sinister and frightening hill to her. The sound rolled around her in the howls of the wind, striking terror into her heart. What if folk begin to think of me as a witch?

Pulling herself out of such a nonsensical thought, Ruth gathered all the courage she had left and entered the house. What met her showed her the truth of what Josh had said. The house did hold a warm welcome. It wasn’t just the physical warmth from the huge cast-iron cooking stove, set into a recess in the wall opposite the door, but the brightness from the three windows dressed with fresh-looking, light-green curtains and, added to that, the smell of baking, which comforted and gave a homely feel. Above the stove were three rows of shelves. The top shelf held all manner of preserves, the next one down dry ingredients, and the lowest one had a row of gleaming copper cooking pans. Under this hung every cooking implement you could name, from ladles to spatulas and a rolling pin. Against the back wall stood a scrubbed table, the biggest she’d ever seen. One end had two places set, the other held a pile of papers and magazines, which made her think that one of them – or both – must be able to read. She hoped it was Josh, as maybe he would read to her like Amy did. Eeh, Amy, lass . . .

Before the deep pain that stabbed Ruth’s heart at this thought could take hold and undo her, Josh’s ma said, ‘Well, come in, lass, and shut out the cold. Me name’s Nora, Nora Bottomless.’

This tickled Ruth and lifted her spirits, but she tried to suppress the giggle that rose in her. She hadn’t thought to ask Josh his surname, and now she knew why he hadn’t offered it.

‘Aye, I can see as that’s amused you. Not an apt name for someone like me, who has a backside to rival any as you’ve ever seen, but there it is. Sit down, lass. I’m sorry about me not being welcoming just now. It were a shock that Josh went against me wishes, and to see as he’d picked you – a lass who don’t look like you can be of much use. But I shouldn’t have acted like I did. I’ve a brew on. I expect you could do with a mug of tea?’

‘Aye, I could; ta, Missus.’

‘“Nora,” I said, and “Nora” it is. You may be here to work, but you’re not me servant and I’m nobody to be addressed by owt other than me name. Now, here’s your tea.

You can tell me a bit about yourself whilst you sup it. Where do you come from, and have you family?’

Sitting back on the wooden rocking chair and comforted by the soft cushion under her and at her back – cushions that matched the curtains, in that they too were of a light green, though these were of a soft velvet fabric – it took Ruth a moment and a large gulp of the hot, sweet tea before she could answer. ‘If you had asked me that two weeks ago, I’d have told you I had a da and a ma and two sisters and two brothers, and we all lived on a farm in Pradley, as me da were a labourer there. But, well, me da died . . .’

More than once during her telling she had to stop, drink some tea and compose herself, but Nora never once interrupted. At the end of her tale there was a silence, which lasted a good half a minute before Nora said, ‘Eeh, lass, that’s a sad tale.’ From the pocket of her pinny she drew out a huge white hanky. ‘Here, lass, dry your tears. You’ve landed on your feet. There’s a home here for you, for as long as you wants it. And a safe one an’ all, as anyone looking ain’t going to find you here. As for them young ’uns – your sisters and brothers – well, Josh’ll keep his word and make some enquiries. He knows folk, does Josh, and among his acquaintances are a few of them policemen. He’ll find out sommat for you.’

Ruth nodded. She hadn’t realized she was crying, but now it was all brought into focus, she felt a sob take her that jolted the very heart of her.

Josh didn’t remark on this as he entered the kitchen at that moment. He just went past her and stacked the logs he’d brought in with him, in a neat pile next to the brass coal scuttle that stood to one side of the Aga. His words were aimed at his ma. ‘We’ll need to keep stoked up the neet, Ma. By, it’s enough to freeze hell over out there.’

‘Ha, that’s a new one. Well, lad, you have done well to bring lass here. We’re what she needs, and I have to say it, lad, you were right about the help she’ll be, when she finds her feet. She were brought up on a farm, so she knows what goes on. Now, get another place set and you can tell me all the news of what’s happening in Blackburn whilst you eat.’ The wink that Josh gave Ruth spoke volumes. She managed a smile and felt her unsettled heart ease a little at the lovely grin he gave her back. This sealed the thought that she’d be all right here; these were good people. If only . . . But then, if she were to keep her sanity and be of any use to Nora and Josh, she mustn’t think of ‘if only’ – because if she did, it would grind her into the ground.