Feathers in the Fire Read Free Page B

hand himself, and I think in this case I am the lesser of two evils.’
    At this he had asked Molly again to name the man, but all she had done was to shake her head. And then he had told her to grab hold of the stanchion post and he had laid his horsewhip across her back. She had on a cotton blouse and although his hand was not heavy she jerked at each of the five lashes, especially the last, for the tail-end of the thong caught her on the bare neck.
    When it was over Molly had walked away with her head down, she had not cried. He had stared after her helplessly. The whole thing had come upon him so suddenly he couldn’t believe it had happened. Everybody seemed stunned, all except Geary, who showed no satisfaction in the outdated punishment he had demanded.
    He had wondered at the time why Geary’s big-mouthed, slovenly wife hadn’t done something to prevent the whole business; but no, she had just stood there and watched her seventeen-year-old daughter being made a public spectacle.
    When he came to look at the affair from a distance he couldn’t make it out, because Cassy Geary was the one to spew mouthfuls of abuse on anybody who laid a finger on a member of her family, even when they were all bairns together and in a straight barnyard fight . . . As his granda said, there was a smelly rat here somewhere. But where?
    When he had finished his work in the byres he went out and across the yard to the harness room. There, young Mickey Geary was sitting on a high bench with his back towards the wood-panelled walls, and he was almost entirely obliterated by a saddle arched across his knees. His face was bright and cheery. What he had witnessed happening to his sister this morning had apparently left no impression on him, for he said airily, ‘Want me to come now, Davie?’
    ‘You finished that?’
    ‘All but.’
    ‘You’ve been some time; you started it first thing.’
    ‘Aye, but I’ve cleaned it bonny.’
    Davie lifted the saddle away from the boy and examined it, then nodded and said, ‘It’ll do.’
    ‘We goin’ for the cows?’
    ‘Aye.’
    The child slipped agilely from the bench on to the floor, where his diminutive height and thinness questioned his eight years, but for all his smallness he was a bright little fellow and a favourite with Davie, or had been up till today. Now he hated the whole job lot of Gearys.
    As Mickey trotted beside him he chatted. ‘You goin’ to make up some polish the night, we’re nearly out, Davie?’
    ‘We’ll see.’
    ‘Can I help you? Can I stir the wax, you said I could last time?’
    ‘We’ll see.’
    ‘When is Primrose gona calf?’
    ‘Soon.’
    They went out of the farmyard into the road, through a gap in a drystone wall opposite, across a field and over a stile towards the steep hill they called The Ridge. The grass was slippery and Mickey measured his length once or twice, but Davie didn’t stop until the small voice suddenly said, ‘Ee bugger! I’m not ’alf hungry, me bloody belly thinks me throat’s cut.’
    Another time this would have brought a smothered laugh from Davie and he would have cuffed the boy’s ear while admonishing him, but now he just admonished him sternly, saying, ‘Let the master hear you an’ that language an’ he’ll sort you out.’ Then staring down into the small round face, he asked, ‘Didn’t you have no dinner?’
    ‘No. Me ma never made none, she’s in a hell of a sweat. Everybody is . . . you gona marry our Molly?’
    Davie’s face stretched; his whole body stretched, and before he could say anything the boy backed away a step, saying, ‘Well, I only axed, ’cos our Johnnie said you had a shy on her.’
    ‘Well, you can tell Johnnie to keep his mouth shut,’ he bellowed at the lad, then turned away and closed his eyes for a moment before tramping sharply on again.
    On the top of the ridge he waited for the boy to catch up. From where he stood he could see a great expanse of land beyond the boundary of the