A Dinner Of Herbs by Yelena Kopylova Page A

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