A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 48 Acquisitions Introductions and Interventions
The hundred and odd Bearthwaite Rangers performed a variety of tasks dependant upon the season. A major part of their winter work was checking the integrity of the many miles of fences and knocking snow off them when necessary to prevent, or in really poor weather minimise, wind damage. They kept an eye on the game, feeding it when necessary and culling deer as required usually in the autumn [US fall]. The individuals culled were mostly determined by their experienced observations, but detailed records of their observations concerning the natural feed available, what additional feed was provided and the age, size, sex and weight of the animals culled along with many other details were kept for the scientists who worked closely with Beebell. The relationship between Beebell and the scientists was a mutually rewarding one. Beebell received information concerning the optimal numbers of deer they should harvest and the scientists received detailed data on what was essentially a large, complex, but closed environment that was ideal for their research purposes.
It was clear to only a few Bearthwaite folk, those who were sufficiently mathematically educated, how the modelling of the deer numbers was done, and more to the point how the suggested cull numbers were arrived at. However, Sasha after explaining the impossibility of a sustained exponential population growth(1) and the more probable usefulness, especially for determining the proposed cull numbers, of the admittedly not perfect logistic curve(2) model had provided explanations in the Green Dragon taproom that soon circulated to give explanations to others that if they were not entirely correct offered a sufficient degree of understanding to satisfy folk that there was some science behind what they were telt they could harvest, the scientists used the word exploit, and it wasn’t just smoke and mirrors or arcane bullshit like what politicians tried to feed them.
The rangers also ensured that nothing untoward was going on regarding poachers. Shotgun cartridges loaded with rock salt rather than buck shot were a wonderful deterrent and after a few incidents the word circulated and the poachers went looking for easier game than what was to be found on Bearthwaite land. In the early days the rangers had had a large number of incidents concerning travelling folk, pejoratively referred to by Bearthwaite folk as potters, gypos, pikeys and a number of other names no longer seen or heard in the media for legal reasons concerning racism, not that that was of any concern to Bearthwaite folk, for the general opinion was ‘Scum is scum and it makes no odds what you call it’. Reasoning with the travellers hadn’t worked, and the police didn’t want to become involved without authority issued by the courts, because it risked accusations of racism. Adalheidis had said would take forever to obtain that authority because the courts were afraid of being accused of racism too. Too, it would be expensive and there was no guarantee it would achieve anything. The rangers had tried mass confrontation, but despite being considerably out numbered the travellers had stood their ground and said words to the effect of, “What are you going to do? Force us out? Hit the women and kids? We’re recording it all on our phones.” Harwell Stevison who was the head ranger advised walking away and leaving the travellers alone. “They’ll go eventually, and we’ll beef the gates up so they can’t return,” was his official position. The fifty-odd rangers left to the accompaniment of the jeers and insults hurled at them and taunts that if the gates were too difficult the fences were easy enough to deal with.
Harwell had a chequered history, and in his opinion Sophia, one of the Bearthwaite sport and games teachers, had rescued if not redeemed him from a nightmare of a life. Sophia had met him in a pub in Leicester when she’d gone on a week long sports medicine course at nearby Loughborough university over the summer when the school children were on holiday. There had been an immediate attraction and much to his surprise he’d admitted to her that he’d grown up on the streets and from a young age he’d become a thief to eat, and that was still how he ate from time to time because he didn’t know how to do anything else besides various other less than legal activities on behalf of more serious criminals than himself often involving arson connected with insurance fraud. The only honest work he’d ever done had been labouring in numerous capacities, but there was sharp competition for such work, and employers tended to take on much bigger and more heavily muscled men than himself. She in her turn had explained about her empty and uncared for childhood in a series of foster homes before ageing out of the system and living in rooms at university and how her life had changed when she’s taken her first job at Bearthwaite School as it was then. Harwell had asked her if there was any work there that someone like him with no qualifications would be able to do, because he was tired of his life and though he’d never been caught never mind convicted he’d had a lot of close shaves and considered it to be only a matter of time before he was doing time.
Sophia had asked him if he would like her to make enquiries. He’d said yes, and to his surprise she’d made a phone call immediately. He could hear her half of a phone call to someone she’d called Chance explaining the situation and then she’d passed her phone over to him. Harwell had been honest about his life to that point and Chance had asked if he would be able to put all that behind him. Harwell had said he’d only lived that way when he’d not been able to get work labouring and had needed to eat, but honest work was getting harder to find by the month. He’d added that though he was pretty good at arithmetic he was rather poor at reading and writing. Chance had told him about the recently formed ranger service that was in serious need of more members. He’d said that it would only suit someone used to spending a lot of time outside and who would be happy living under canvas for days on end in all weathers. Harwell had laughed and said sleeping well fed in a nice dry tent in a howling snow storm sounded a lot better than sleeping hungry on the streets in the same weather. Chance had offered him a job and a room on a three month trial and said that Sophia would pay for his train ticket and expenses and claim the money back from him later.
On the train north the pair had become a couple, and Harwell had never needed the room offered by Chance. Though Sophia was almost nineteen years younger than Harwell the couple had set up home together in one of the smaller houses in Mill Terrace. Most folk considered it easy to see why Harwell was attracted to Sophia for she was young and pretty and, in the words of outsiders, would be seen as a trophy wife for a man of his age. It was only Bearthwaite folk who appreciated why Sophia was attracted to a man like Harwell who was only average sized and not especially good looking. For Sophia Harwell was mostly husband and lover, but he was part father too and he represented a security that she’d never known. Pete and Gladys had shrugged their shoulders, for the age gap between them was even greater than between Harwell and Sophia, and Gladys had said, “None can know what makes a couple able to make it work and it’s none else’s business.”
Initially Harwell had been just one of the rangers under the oversight of Tony Dearden the digger and excavator operator who bred and coursed lurchers and spent a lot of his life outside. Tony hadn’t wanted to take on the task of overseeing the rangers whose work initially had barely been decided upon, but he was much the best person available to do it and he’d reluctantly agreed to do it till such time as things became a little clearer and a better person could be found. Livvy had been talked about as the best possibility, she would actually have been a better choice than Tony, but though tempted by the job she’d refused on the grounds that she hoped she would be leaving soon for university. Much to Tony’s relief, Harwell, due to his diligence and perception, had been appointed as head ranger just before the end of his three months trial. Within six months Sophia was expecting and Harwell was in his own eyes the man he should had been had he been given but half a chance. He had a responsible job that he was good at and enjoyed. He didn’t earn a lot of money, but he didn’t need to, for what he did earn was more than adequate to support a good life for Sophia and himself, and her income they were putting to one side with the accountants to earn more ready for their future family’s needs. He hadn’t gone hungry since moving north and his history of theft and nefarious activities was behind him. However, to survive on the streets he’s had to be physically and mentally tough and with Sophia at his side he was now emotionally as tough as he was physically and mentally. All of which suited him to his job too. Few realised it, but now having a wife and a forthcoming family to fight for and protect made Harwell a much more dangerous man than he’d ever been. He was grateful beyond words to Bearthwaite, and there was nothing he would not do to protect his community and it’s property. He’d said to Sophia, “There is nothing I will not do to protect the community that didn’t stop to count the cost of protecting me. All I need to find whatever strength of mind that that requires is you. I may have to do things I’ll not wish to discuss, not even with you which is for your well being as well as mine. I hope you can understand that.”
“Yes I understand. What I don’t know about I can deny. I think that’s called plausible deniability isn’t it?”
“That it is.” Harwell did not explain that what she had no knowledge of she couldn’t be tricked into admitting and that kept him and therefore her, their family and their community safe. That he would end up breaking the law he was certain, but if only he knew he was safe. Even if he had killed folk who threatened his folk, for that was how he now saw Bearthwaite folk, his folk, he would be safe.”
Unknown to any of his staff, and all others too, Harwell had kept a close eye on the latest group of itinerants, the ones who’d jeered his men away saying they’d destroy the fences to gain admittance to Bearthwaite land, using high power binoculars from a considerable distance. He’d been monitoring their patterns of behaviour, for he knew sooner or later opportunity would knock on his door and he had all prepared for when it did. Three weeks after the attempted mass confrontation the travellers returned to their caravans [US trailers] after what they referred to as a day’s work to find every last one had been burnt out and there was little left other than smouldering piles of scrap metal and a smell of burning tyres lingering on the air. Thugs, bullies and thieves, men and women both, for generations now they’d relied on the law to be able to intimidate others and have their way as regards where they parked their caravans for however long it suited them, and they raised their children, who due to lack of school attendance were as illiterate as their parents, to be carbon copies of themselves.
When they left a place it always looked like a municipal rubbish tip, with the addition of excrement and menstrual hygiene products in the nearby bushes, and the local taxpayers had to pay for the clean up, which usually took a team of a dozen persons wearing hazmat gear several days. Finally they’d run afoul of someone who wasn’t interested in the law, someone who played by their rules even more roughly than they did, and who’d cost them hundreds of thousands of pounds, and they didn’t wish to cross that someone again. They’d been out thugged and out bullied and left the area in a hurry in the trucks which were now their only possessions. The Bearthwaite Burnout, as they referred to it as, rapidly became known to all of their acquaintance. True to form it took a team of a dozen persons wearing hazmat gear several days to clean up the site they’d occupied and the area around it. Bearthwaite never had a problem with their ilk again, though doubtless the unsourced whispers heard in pubs of stockpiles of RPGs(3) to burn out caravans helped.
Harwell had dressed like a dirty nondescript homeless vagabond and had waited till the burnout came up in conversation. Shaking like an alcoholic as he drank his cheap vodka, he’d whispered in a hoarse Glaswegian accent to just one man at the bar that he’d heard in the Greyhound, another equally insalubrious drinking den in Carlisle comparable to the one that he was drinking in, that the folk in some places where the potters usually camped had got sick of them and had got some of those Rocket Propelled Grenades to deal with them next time. He’d apparently gone to the gents after that, but he’d left via the back door. That was all it had taken, and within forty-eight hours the tale, which lost nothing in the telling, was circulating in hundreds of pubs and none knew whence it originated. The police were deeply concerned, but the travelling folk avoided the area for years after that.
Police officers from Carlisle had contacted folk at Bearthwaite asking for help with their enquiries because their superiors had ordered them to, but they knew most Bearthwaite folk would refuse to listen or talk to them unless they were taken in for questioning, and even then their solicitors would advise them to say nothing simply because they were not obliged to, and they would take the advice. It was the way most Bearthwaite folk were. They rarely interacted with outsiders and never interacted with officialdom without representation. Even the few folk who would interact with the police would provide nothing that would be of any help, for all would claim they knew nothing and had neither seen nor heard anything, including rumours, and because they didn’t have to they wouldn’t make official statements. Michael Graham, the local police sergeant who was Bearthwaite born and reared and had recently moved back there to live, had said, “Unless we have some evidence a court would accept to connect a suspect from Bearthwaite with the arson attack we would be well advised not to go there with out a warrant and certainly not to bring any in for questioning, or we shall end up in court in the dock.
“Adalheidis Levens won’t hesitate to use the fullest extent of the law if we do anything however small that does not comply with the letter of the law, and if you even think about trying to talk to kids other than with a court order and with both a parent and social workers in attendance, James Claverton will flay you alive in court. Even if you were to get the court order and have a parent in attendance the social worker involved will certainly be Germain Beattie the director of regional Social Services for she is a well regarded friend of Bearthwaite folk and her fiancé is a Bearthwaite man. For Bearthwaite folk it is simply a matter of privacy. Adalheidis pointed out to me just a few days ago that it may prove beneficial to remind you that in the last twenty years no Bearthwaite resident has ever been convicted of a criminal offence which is several thousand crimes less than officers of Cumbria Police have been convicted of in the same time period. Given that the police have what? about fifteen hundred officers of all ranks and Bearthwaite has a population of about ten thousand, I would suggest you don’t even consider asking what have Bearthwaite residents got to hide, because they neither trust nor like you simply because you are outsiders and police officers. As of yet they have no personal dislike of any of you. If any go there with a warrant or to take any of them in for questioning it would immediately become personal. They would make it personal and would specifically dislike all involved from who ever signed the authority to do so all the way down to whoever executed the order, and it wouldn’t take them long to find out who all those folk were. Even I don’t know how that is done, but I do know that some Bearthwaite residents are amazingly well connected to folk so high up the food chain that it defies belief.
“Bearthwaite folk will take no account of the fact that you were doing your job. Their attitude to that would be if the job is that hateful then either get a job where you can live in good conscience an honourable, respectable life or accept the hypocrisy that makes you equally guilty. They will hold you personally responsible for your own actions. Bearthwaite folk do not accept the existence of collective responsibility and will not accept the Nürnberg defence(4) at any level. If you ever upset any of them to that level you will upset them all, and within days they will all know who you are, what you have done, and what you look like, and that information will be regularly updated. Bearthwaite has been doing that for a few decades now because they want to know what the enemy looks like, and all that data is on each and every Bearthwaite smart phone, and every man, woman and child of Bearthwaite always carries a smart phone. They would never seek to hurt you, but from that day forth you would cease to be someone they were indifferent to and become an enemy. As such you would never receive aid from any of them under any circumstances whatsoever. By which I mean they would leave you dying at the side of the road without ringing for an ambulance. They’ve done it before, and doubtless they’ll do it again. It’s up to you and I’m not even going to advise you one way or the other because I am Bearthwaite folk and proud of it.
“There is an expression that outsiders use more often than we do. A fair weather friend is said to be one who is only a friend when it is convenient but the moment hard times arrive they leave your side. The reverse of that coin would be a fair weather enemy, one whom one only hates when they are doing okay, but not when their chips are down and they really need some help. Bearthwaite folk are neither fair weather friends nor do they forgive them, and they have no fair weather enemies. If they dislike you it is constant and permanent. As an example of that, we never found any evidence of human presence when that pair of lunatic vegan anti veal raisers were found dead from hypothermia up on the tops over a year and a half since, during that really cold snap in February, but there were dog prints there of the right size for a border collie in the snow and the mud. From the number of prints I saw I’d say just one dog and it went right up to the bodies, turned round and returned exactly the same way it had approached. Both sets of prints were in a straight line to the snow free rocks of the ridge which to me indicated a well controlled dog, a sheepdog. Where there is a sheepdog under control that tight there is a shepherd not far away, so I’d put money on it some one knew those holier than thou do gooders were up there dying and just left ’em to get on with it, if of course they weren’t already dead. Not of course that that’s a crime. ’Tis in France, but ’tain’t here. Naturally when questioned all the shepherds who admitted to working anywhere near there at the time had seen nothing, heard nothing and knew nothing.”
“For fuck sake, Michael, that’s got to be bullshit. Who’d leave folk to die up there without ringing for the mountain rescue? And how can anyone call me a fucking Nazi for going to arrest someone when I’ve been ordered to and I have a warrant? And why didn’t you tell the investigating team what you thought about the dog. That’s criminal.”
Michael’s voice was ice cold as he replied, “The answers to your first question, Colin, is someone who doesn’t approve of city tree huggers acting like amateur commandos in an attempt to disrupt his way of life and prepared to use violence to do so. Those dead wannabe save the planet types were all visibly armed when they were discovered by those walkers several days later. The answer to your second question depends very much on which side of the barbed wire the responder is situated. The answer to your third point is, no as I already telt you it is not criminal under either English or Scottish law, and because I was telt from the very top to stay away and keep my mouth shut because I was from Bearthwaite and my loyalties were suspect. Since it suited me I followed orders, stayed away and kept my mouth shut. If you don’t like it take it up with the brass, but tek heed you’ll get nowhere, for all the evidence up there will now be washed away by the rain and we’ve had as much out of Bearthwaite shepherds as we’re ever going to get, and you’ll be badly thought of for rocking the boat and embarrassing them.” At that he walked out.
“Is he fucking crazy or what?” Colin asked his half dozen colleagues.
“Well now, that depends entirely on how you view being a good copper, Mate,” an elderly sergeant replied. “Michael sees it as being able to resolve difficult situations without having recourse to the law and upsetting folk. He’s one of the best, if not the best, community coppers I’ve ever come across. Some would say his arrest record is appalling, others, like myself, would say that the ability to resolve as many tense situations as he has done without violence, upset or anything else unpleasant like arresting folk is a testament to his humanity. He regularly goes unaccompanied in uniform to estates [the hood] where the rest of us only go mob handed with full riot gear. He is welcomed, the kids talk to him and get him to play with them and some one will bring a cup of tea out to him. I’ve seen him playing illegal street football [soccer] with young lads and making a fool of himself playing hopscotch with little lasses. Then after he’s drunk his tea and only then will he be asked if he’s there on business or just for a chat. Sometimes it’s just a chat to find out how folk are going on, if it’s business the matter will be resolved with no fuss. If it’s teenagers that need sorting out he’ll be given assurances that it will be done, and it will. I’ve seen big lads turned twenty come to the station to apologise to him and promise not to do it again. He was pleasant to them, and they left with no animosity on either side.
“I’ve been to places with him, just the two of us, where I swear I could feel the cross hairs of a rifle sight in between my shoulder blades. It was like being back in the RUC(5) years ago. Places where we had a chat and after I was introduced I was given a sandwich and a cuppa. I’ve seen him take a twenty out of his wallet and with tears in his eyes give it to a grief stricken young woman and ask her to have someone buy some appropriate flowers for her mum who had just died. Yeah, he’s fucking crazy all right. A few years ago he was asked if he’d like to go part time and have Bearthwaite as his beat, work there all the time like. He’d have loved to accept. We all knew he’d wanted to go home to live for years, but the floods on the lonning into the village made it impossible till he bought a boat. Now he leaves his car on the car park at Bearthwaite Lonning Ends and someone drives him to it and picks him up on the way home. If the road floods, he comes to work by boat and then by car, same in reverse going home. But think on he refused the offer to work Bearthwaite as his beat because he said it didn’t need a copper because there was no crime there that a clip round the ear from a pissed off mum couldn’t solve. The kids there would far rather have their arses kicked by their dads than face their mums. Like I said he’s fucking bat shit crazy all right, but we could do with dozens more as mental as he is. One day if you’re really lucky, you’ll be as well thought of by your colleagues as he is and as respected and liked by the folk you police as he is, but some how I doubt it. My advice is listen to Michael and do whatever he suggests. In the past we’ve always left owt to do with Bearthwaite to him and that’s always got us the result we were after without any effort and more to the point without any of us getting hurt.”
Days later, of the travellers, Michael had said, “Those sorts of folk make a lot of enemies. If I were hell bent on that order of revenge I certainly wouldn’t have burnt them out where they’d caused me any trouble. I’d wait till they were miles away, at the least in another county under the jurisdiction of another police force. However, I suspect they received what was owing to them and I can’t say it bothers me one little bit. They were chased out from the outskirts of Gateshead by the local villains before they came this way. Maybe we’d be better off asking a few questions over there if we really care that much. Personally I always hated protecting them from the actions of the decent folk they were abusing, even if those actions would have been illegal, just because the scum had got a court order and we had no choice but to keep the peace. With a bit of luck I’ll be retired before they come back this way. I reckon the best way to view the matter is that the democratic process has enabled natural justice to take place. I wish I did know who did it so I could shake his hand and buy him a pint. Then again the ways those folk operate maybe it was a lass they upset. We all know that it takes a lot more to seriously upset lasses than men, but think on, seriously upset lasses are far more dangerous than any bloke. Mind, if they’d hurt or threatened her kids a really upset lass would have burnt those trailers with their inhabitants still in their beds inside ’em. So look on the bright side, at least we’ve not got a major multiple murder enquiry to investigate. Don’t suppose those scum had any insurance on those hundred thousand pound caravans because they never seem to have any for their vehicles. A bit unlucky that really.”
The police were convinced that some of the Bearthwaite folk were responsible for the arson attack, but had no clue as to who, for despite a number of recently appointed rangers having records for petty crimes as juveniles none had ever been even accused of anything that suggested they would be involved in arson and they didn’t even consider Harwell, for as far as they knew he’d never been involved in any criminal activity of any sort. The specialist investigators said the fires were set by someone who knew exactly what he was doing and he’d made expert use of materials readily available from any corner shop or supermarket, so it wasn’t likely to be a pissed off local. They opined that the travellers had upset someone involved in serious organised crime who’d paid a professional to deal with them. The truth was the police sympathised with the Bearthwaite folk and only tried hard enough in their investigations to satisfy their superiors that they had looked into the matter and to produce enough paperwork to file for the same purpose.
Harwell had learnt as a young child that if you said absolutely nothing to any, any attempt by others like the police to lead you on was just a bluff trying to make you incriminate your self because whatever their suspicions they couldn’t actually know anything. None could betray you because again no matter what their suspicions none knew anything. As they’d anticipated the police had met with a wall of silence and had discovered nothing. They hadn’t said anything, but senior officers too were happy about that, for the itinerants had never been anything but trouble that from time to time had given them a large overtime bill to pay that they couldn’t afford other than by cutting down on police presence in places where it was really needed which lowered their prestige in the eyes of the public. They were hoping that the recent events and the rumours of an armed response would discourage the travellers from afflicting the area with their presence for a long time. On the other hand, Bearthwaite residents had never caused them any problems other than a few misunderstandings which Michael Graham had always managed to resolve amicably without having to recourse to the law or the courts, or a large overtime bill.
Issues at Bearthwaite were usually resolved by Michael going to the Dragon for a drink. Even the recent court cases had produced no issues with Bearthwaite folk. The only issues for the police had been caused by rabid left wing protesters outside the courts mostly persons from outside the county. Bearthwaite residents had spotless records and reputations for hard but honest dealing. They also had a lot of respect from the police due to their willingness to employ some of the county’s young petty criminals who lived on the streets enabling them to put their criminality behind them. It was not understood how and why Bearthwaite accepted some youngsters and rejected others, but the reoffending rate of the ones they did accept was zero, and it had been noted that Bearthwaite was accepting many more of them recently than they ever had in the past. Michael’s warning that such youngsters were now Bearthwaite folk and as such should be treated as members of the law abiding community they belonged to was taken seriously, not least because it cut down the police workload. The unsaid implications were obvious, if those youngsters did step out of line Bearthwaite would deal with the matter. When Alf and Bertie’s names were mentioned in connection with any required arse kicking the matter was closed.”
“Mummy, some of the children at school telt me you used to be a boy. Is that true?”
Adalheidis smiled at Heather’s natural and unselfconscious use of the word telt thinking that it didn’t take children long to adapt to a new environment. “Yes and no, Love. Yes because undressed I looked like a bit like a boy, and no because I really was a girl.”
“Did you have a…?”
“A very tiny one, Love. Not much bigger than what a girl has, and I would never have been able to use it like a boy does to make babies with when I was older. I had a small operation to fix that and then I looked completely like the girl that I had always been.”
Heather, now a very puzzled four year old asked, “Did the operation give you your boobies, Mummy?”
“No. They are completely natural. I grew them myself like all girls do when they become big girls, but like some other women I didn’t have enough milk for your sister, so I had to take some tablets to help me make milk, so that I could feed Tania.”
“I like having a baby sister, Mummy, and I like watching you feed her. Did you know that Daddy likes watching too?”
“Yes, and I like him watching me. It’s a family thing, Poppet.” As Adalheidis changed Tania over to her other breast she had a dreamy look on her face as she asked, “What time is Brendan coming home from the allotments with your Granddad, Heather?”
“Granddad didn’t tell me, but Granny said they’d probably be late for dinner and starving. Why is Brendan always so hungry, Mummy? He eats more than Granddad. Granny says he’s a growing boy, but she says I’m a growing girl, and I don’t eat that much.”
“Brendan is going to become a man soon and it will take a lot of food to make him big and strong. You aren’t going to become a woman for a few years yet. When you do you’ll need to eat more, but you won’t eat as much as Brendan does because you won’t have big muscles to grow like he will. You’ll need more food to make you taller and keep you pretty.”
“Will I need more food to grow boobies and a bottom like the big girls have, Mummy?”
“Of course, all girls do. I’ll remind you when to eat so you don’t forget.”
Distracted by something, Heather turned to the window and excitedly announced, “I can hear Daddy’s pickup, Mummy!”
“Things must have gone well at work because he’s early, Love. Why don’t you fetch your clock and he can teach you some more about telling the time while he drinks his tea. Tania’s nearly finished, so in a minute or two I’ll put her in her carry cot for a sleep and put the kettle on for a pot of tea. Daddy is sure to want a mug of tea. Would you like tea or juice?”
“I’ll have tea like Daddy please in my mug.”
Just then Matthew’s voice came from the hall, “I saw you nursing through the front window, Love, so don’t get up. I’ll put the kettle on. I’m parched.”
Heather put her clock down on the sofa and raced into the kitchen. Adalheidis could hear her shouting excitedly, “Daddy, Daddy, lift me. I’m going to have tea like you!” Adalheidis smiled. That Heather loved her was beyond doubt, but equally beyond doubt she was a daddy’s girl. She’d been thrilled when Matthew had given her a Heather sized tea mug the same shape as his own which contained a full pint [20 fluid ounces]. Heather’s mug was a fifth the size of his and had been made for him by Celia with Heather written in the glaze on both sides. For Heather a really good weekend afternoon was one spent with her father at whichever building site he was visiting at the time. Her most enjoyable activity was watching Matthew lay bricks. He had obtained a tiny Heather sized trowel for her to use laying small, super light weight quarter bats(6) that he had sawn from Thermalite(7) block.
Brendan preferred to spend time with his granddad either at the mill or at the allotments where Phil had recently taken a small plot. He was also interested in what the rangers did and was waiting for the next school holidays when he was going to spend a few days with Harwell as his team monitored the fence lines and the game up on the fells. He’d not yet said so, but he’d decided to join the TA(8) as soon as he was old enough and was already learning to shoot under the tutelage of several of the valley’s older residents. He’d opted to do self defence, martial arts and ballroom dancing instead of sport at school. Melanie, his girlfriend, had insisted he do the dancing. As for the rest, once he’d heard the talk of the valley’s need to defend itself, most of which he shouldn’t have heard but he had sharp hearing, he’d wanted to play as active a rôle in that as he could and he’d decided to prepare himself. The only sport he participated in at school was marathon running, though as yet he’d only run half marathons. He also did weight lifting and a variety of fitness activities in the gymnasium out of school hours. It hadn’t taken him long to become super fit.
As Adalheidis watched Matthew and Heather with her clock she smiled again, for Matthew had endless patience as yet again he ran Heather through her telling the time exercises. “That’s really good, Poppet. You’ll soon be ready for using the alarm clock which has no hands on it just numbers. How are you doing at school with reading and writing these days?”
“Writing is hard, Daddy, but I’m good at reading and times tables too. I’ll read the bedtime story to you tonight if you like?”
“That sound like fun, Love.”
As she waited for Tania, who would awaken soon wanting to be changed, Adalheidis considered the last couple of months. It had all started when she’d received an early morning phone call from Germain Beattie, the local regional Director of Social Services who opened the conversation with, “This is kind of work, not social, Adalheidis, so I shall have to ask some obviously stupid questions so that if I am ever asked I can say I asked them. Bear with me please because we both have hoops to jump through. We have three children for you, but the matter is tangled. It’s a group of siblings who are currently with two different sets of foster parents. The thirteen year old boy named Brendan is with different foster parents from his sisters, a nearly five year old named Heather and a six month baby named Tania. There were two other boys between Brendan and Heather who died from neglect and malnutrition. The parents will not be getting out of custody any time soon and have already had their parental rights removed by the courts. There are no relatives who are any better. At the moment the parents are in hospital suffering from some kind of poisoning that is believed to be due to contaminants in poor quality street drugs. Once they have recovered they will be transferred on remand to a prison till their trials. The children were separated and placed where they are without my knowledge and an internal inquiry is ongoing to find out why, to ensure it doesn’t happen again and I suspect to dismiss at least two possibly half a dozen social workers. The children have been fostered now for nearly six weeks and the girls have not met up with their brother in that time.
“I’m forcing myself to be calm about this because the outrage I feel will not aid the children. I want them all placed for adoption with you, for with you they will be loved and safe, even Brandon who is currently a very angry young man who is difficult because he rarely communicates anything to anyone. I’m using my own phone and am not at work, so the next part of this conversation never happened, okay? There are powerful forces at work in the shadows. There is a wealthy and influential pair of potential parents who wish to adopt the girls, but not Brendan, and they are being supported by not just my boss, but her boss as well. I haven’t dared to go against them directly, or all authority in the matter would have been taken off me, the children separated forever and before anything could have been done the girls would likely have already disappeared abroad. That’s why I stressed they would be safe with you at Bearthwaite.”
Adalheidis was stunned and upset. She asked, “So what can you do? and why is this conversation taking place?”
Adalheidis heard an unexpected chuckle and Germain replied, “I can’t relinquish parental authority to you, nor indeed to any other prospective parents, but I can transfer it to NCSG.(9) I checked the exact wording of our national organisation’s agreement with them and it was very clear. So expect a phone call from them some time in the next hour. They, not Social Services, will be arranging the adoption. Because of their pan British Isles rôle, a couple of years ago they applied to the UK high court for the right to present adoption papers to any judge or magistrate of their choice for signing off. They were granted that authority. It took them a little longer to have similar authority granted in Ireland, the Isle of Man and the Channel Islands, but they eventually succeeded. They now have the authority to apply to a court anywhere in the British Isles on behalf of a child from anywhere else in the British Isles. It will probably be a very senior judge indeed sitting in this particular case, probably one based in London. The NCSG case workers involved said that they know you both well, so they have no issues there and all they need is to see both of you with the children a couple of times to ensure all is well with the required paperwork and the matter will be closed. Brace yourself, for you are about to become parents. Sorry about the short notice, but this sort of thing is never one that can be planned for.”
“When will this happen, Germain?”
“It started at two thirty-six this morning when I discovered the relevant clause in the agreement that exists between Social Services and the NCSG. An agreement which is legally binding on both of us. I rang the NCSG twenty-four hour number and transferred parental rights to them immediately. Since then they have done everything required from their end and two separate groups of their staff collected the three children at eight o’clock. I have been told that went without a hitch. I gathered it was a bit like a military operation and expecting problems that didn’t actually occur they were highly resourced in terms of manpower, including a police presence. I imagine the children have been fed and are already on their way to you, for, unlike most Social Services departments, NCSG are organised such that they can respond to situations like this immediately without interminable meetings having to happen first. Though the children originated in Cumbria near Deadwater Northumbria up by the Scottish border they were all fostered near Kendal, so it shouldn’t be long before the children arrive with you.
“Jess McLeod, whom I believe you know well, is the senior NCSG caseworker and she asked me to phone you to explain events as she’s exceedingly busy with the children at the moment. I have been told on the quiet that the adoptive parent’s as were in the offing will probably try to take the girls from you, which apparently made some of the police who know Michael Graham vastly amused. They are no longer on our list of prospective parents nor of any other agency nor department anywhere in the country. The investigations into them that should have taken place but didn’t seem likely to put them in gaol for a long time on charges of child trafficking and probably worse. It looks like numerous other folks, some of who work for Social Services, will be charged with the same offences too. I dread to think what could have happened to the girls, but I have no doubt they will be safe at Bearthwaite, and please don’t tell me about any measures that you can take to protect them. I trust you totally, but I do need plausible deniability to keep my job. Good luck. Ring me on my private mobile in a week or two to let me know how things are going. That’s not a demand, just a friendly request. I’d like to see evidence of a successful outcome even if I can’t tell anyone about it.”
Adalheidis laught and said, “Will do, Germain. Shall I let Dougie know you’ll be coming?”
“That would be kind of you. Maybe I’ll book a couple of days off work and stay.” It was known to all Bearthwaite residents that Germain and Dougie were an item though none of Germain’s work colleagues were aware of the matter. Most at Bearthwaite considered it to be just a matter of time before Germain moved in with Dougie. She would be welcome, for she was known to be a powerful advocate for children in need of protection and it was as well recognised that she didn’t care about much else. It was also known that she’d got rid of a number of Social Workers within her department who simply weren’t up to the job and a few who were corrupt had ended up in gaol.
Adalheidis had rung Matthew at work and he’d returned home with a nearby ‘Heavy mob hanging around just in case’ as he’d put it. Twenty minutes later a pair of NCSG staff had arrived in a minibus with a sleeping baby in a carrycot, a nervous looking four year old girl and a terrified looking thirteen year old boy. Adalheidis and Matthew both greeted Jess the older of the pair and shook hands with the other who said her name was Jym Rosehill without explanation. Adalheidis had hugged the two older children and said quietly, “Matthew and I have been waiting, not very patiently, for months for children in need of love and a home. If you want it this is it. No more moving, no more being hurt, no more being hungry and no more being cold. As you will probably have been telt this is a village called Bearthwaite, and it is a very safe place, Brendan. There is a school here, so you do not have to leave the valley if you don’t wish to. However, it is not a gaol, so you may certainly do so if you wish. Are you happy to come home with us?”
Brendan had nodded and whispered something that couldn’t be heard. Adalheidis had reached into her coat pocket and produced a black mobile phone offering it to Brendan saying, “This is yours, Brendan, and it is already programmed with the entire Bearthwaite data base which automatically updates itself. At the top of the list it has all the emergency numbers you may need, perhaps most importantly to you it has all the Bearthwaite children’s numbers too. It is the latest model of smartphone, and it incorporates all the necessary protection to keep you safe when you use the internet. If we go inside we can tell you all the immediate need to know stuff and settle you into your room which is in total chaos at the moment because we only knew you were coming half an hour ago and our friends have been dumping stuff that you will need in there. That will take maybe half an hour by which time some local children will have arrived to tell you all the really important stuff, like who it’s easiest to get an ice cream out of.”
Brendan looked seriously surprised at being given the phone, and asked, “Is this expensive?”
Adalheidis shrugged and said, “I have no idea. Every child here has one and they carry them all the time to keep them safe. I have a pink one too for Heather. Uncle Pat, who’s an electronics genius, buys them by the hundred and programs them. Every now and again he’ll ask you to see him so he can update something or other that he can’t program to update automatically. Even the adults take their phones to him for periodic updating. Don’t worry about it.”
“What if I lose it?”
“Tell me or your dad and we’ll get you another, though the chances are Uncle Pat will be able to locate it. You won’t get into trouble for losing it. You will get into trouble for not telling us and going out without it, for then you will not be as safe as you should be. Okay?” Adalheidis’ voice softened and said, “There’s nothing to be afraid of here, but I would like to be called, Mum. I’ll understand if that is difficult at first, but I’ll be really grateful if you try. Okay?”
“Yes. Err, Yes, Mum.”
Adalheidis was smiling as she hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
As they walked into the house with one of the NCSG staff carrying the carrycot Heather took hold of Matthew’s offered hand and asked, “Are you my Daddy?”
“I’d like to be. Would you like that?”
“Yes. I never had a daddy or a mummy. When we lived with Buzz and Alice we had to call them Buzz and Alice, but for some reason Buzz mostly called Alice Slut.”
Brandon turned round to face Matthew and said, “They were our parents, but they weren’t nice people. They thought we were a nuisance. We promise we’ll be good don’t we, Heather?” Heather nodded vigorously.
Matthew said, “Don’t make any promises you may not be able to keep. I wasn’t always good at either of your ages, but my mum and dad still loved me, as will we still love you.” Much to her delight Matthew offered to pick Heather up and kissed her cheek as he did. “Would you like to go out to play in a bit too, Sweetie? There are swings and roundabouts and slides on the green and I know some older girls who live nearby who would love to take you there with their brothers and sisters of your age.” Heather just nodded.
Jess, the older of the NCSG staff, on seeing the Brendan’s bedroom said, “You were right, Adalheidis. Complete chaos, but nothing out of order for a teenager’s room. I don’t even dare go in my fourteen year old son’s room. I just push the ironing through the door and shut it behind me as quickly as possible so that nothing falls out, and I’m not sure I want to tell you about the nightmare dystopian environment my seventeen year old daughter describes as lived in. I can see a bed with enough decent bedding and more than enough clothes, so all is in order. What about Heather’s room?”
“More of the same, Jess. The only difference is the room’s a bit smaller and we need to go clothes shopping. In view of what’s been said I don’t want to take her out of the valley, so we’ll do what we can on the internet.”
Jym, the younger woman with Jess said, “We appreciate that. We’ll let you know when the situation is safer. I’m not a case worker with NCSG. I’m an NCSG child safety investigator. It’s a rôle we don’t publicise. As I said before I’m Jym which is spelt with a why not an eye.” She looked resigned as she sighed and said, “Mum still has exotic tastes in Middle Eastern literature. What’s that racket downstairs?”
Matthew chuckled and replied, “Just kids. Given a choice between doing something quietly or noisily I guess you can work out their preferences. Brandon, some of that rabble will be my cousins’ kids. I have three brothers, but none of your uncles and aunts have kids old enough to go to school yet, so you’ll probably be the oldest of the cousins unless some of them adopt older children which is possible. You okay to experience the baptism of fire that associating with that lot of rowdies outside always involves?”
Brandon grinned for the first time and said. “Yes, Dad. What time do I have to be back for?”
Adalheidis replied, “We’re eating at six. If one of the mums offers to feed you that’s okay, but ring me to let me know, or I’ll worry and have you tracked down. Tomorrow’s a school day, so since you have no homework be back by nine, though any of the kids who haven’t finished theirs yet will be unavailable after eight and their mums will chuck you out.”
Matthew added in conspiratorial tones, “By and large it’s okay to upset dads here, but if I were you I wouldn’t chance it with any of the mums including yours. No, especially yours. Off you go.”
“Where will Tania be sleeping, Adalheidis?”
“In a cot in our room, Jess, which is actually at the moment a chaos free zone. This way.”
After seeing the cot Jess said, “That’s fine. You got anything to add before we go, Jym?”
“Yes. When you said if Brandon lost his phone your uncle would be able to locate it, I took that to mean the kids’ phones here have specific GPS tracker software that works even when the phone is off. Am I correct?”
“Yes. They’ve all it had for years. It’s on all the adults’ phones too.”
“Well,” she looked around to see Heather occupied with Matthew and said quietly, “I like to put a couple of tiny trackers into Heather’s hair, just in case she loses the phone. Any idea’s?”
Adalheidis smiled and said, “Heather, your hair is a mess. I’m not letting you out of here looking like that so other mums can say I don’t take care of you properly. Would you like me to put your hair in braids?” When Heather nodded she said, “Fine. Into my bedroom, and sit at the dressing table on the stool, and I’ll have you looking pretty in no time. I can hear the big girls outside so we need to hurry. I’ll buy some hair slides [barrettes] for you from Auntie Lucy at the shop while you’re out. Sit. Jym, would like to do one side if I do the other since we’re in a hurry. You shew me how you do it, so I can do it the same.”
Two minutes later Adalheidis said, “Okay, Poppet. Downstairs for playtime. Here, put the strap over your head to rest on your other shoulder so it can’t slide off and get lost. It contains your phone and a clean hanky. It’s a rule here for all children, even big girls and boys. You never leave the house without your phone and you never put it down anywhere. Your phone is the same as all the other children have, so you can ask them to explain how to use it. Okay?”
“Yes, Mummy. I promise.”
As the four adults watched Heather holding hands with two older girls as she skipped her way to the green Jym said, “Slick. You done this before?”
“No, but I am a pretty experienced courtroom solicitor. It helps.”
Jym grinned and said, “So I’ve heard. I’ll leave you with a dozen of the mini trackers so you can put a couple on Tania and replace them when necessary. I suspect they won’t be needed after a month or so, but if you need more just phone and I’ll deliver them myself. You have no idea how much pleasanter it is visiting here than some of the places my job sends me too. Then again I’ve read your files so you probably do.”
Jess asked, “I’d like to know what your exact intentions are with Tania, Adalheidis. It’s just for the record, but I need to record it.”
“Okay give me a moment.” Adalheidis reached for her phone and a few seconds later Jess and Jym heard her say, “Hello, Morgana, it’s Adalheidis. We’ve just adopted three children and one is a baby, so I’d like to speak to Sun please. … Sure, no bother. I’ll get Matthew to pop down later on with all the documentation, or I’ll bring it tomorrow. … Hello, Sun. We’ve just adopted a boy of thirteen and two girls. One is four the other going on six months. I want to nurse her. … Of course. Thanks. I’ll probably see you tomorrow when I come round to the clinic with the girls. … Hello, Susanna. I presume Sun telt you what’s going on? … Great. Thanks. I’ll get Matthew to pick them up for me and some formula too to be going on with. How long does it take to work? … So quickly‽ Brilliant. Thanks again. I’ll bring Tania and Heather down to the clinic tomorrow morning for you to do the necessary. I have no idea if Heather has had any of her inoculations, and NCSG couldn’t find any medical records for any of the children, so I doubt if any of them have had any of their jabs. I’ll probably have Matthew take Brandon to see Sun and Tony some time later this week. Bye.” Adalheidis put her phone down and said, “Morgana is the receptionist and administratrix at the health centre. Tony is one of our dentists, Sun is our GP and Susanna is our senior midwife and she reckons I’ll be nursing inside a week. What else do you need to know, Jess?”
“A week seems awfully fast especially for…”
“For someone who is trans?”
“Well yes.”
“As I understand it, the NHS doesn’t buy the best drugs, usually they buy the cheapest which are still selt to them at rip off prices compared with what they are selt to others at. Sun buys all our drugs and other medical supplies on the international markets and only ever buys the best. He says that he is spending less on better drugs than the NHS would spend on his patients for less efficacious drugs, which must be true because Murray, our senior accountant, says when he reclaims the money they never make a fuss and just pay him what he asks for. They made a fuss the first time, but when he sent them a copy of his spreadsheet detailing what their drugs at the prices they paid for them would cost, along with a neatly worded threat to take the matter to court courtesy of myself, they backed up immediately and paid us the price it would have cost them. All the drugs that residents need here are paid for out of the money we get reimbursed with from the NHS which includes those the NHS won’t provide on prescription like low level painkillers and hay fever and allergy medications. The NHS didn’t like that, but in the end on receipt of a court summons they paid and are still doing so and probably saving money. Why on Earth they don’t set up a team to buy their drugs and the like the same way that Sun has Murray do beggars belief, but that would require coöperation amongst departments and some joined up thinking, so it’s easy enough to understand. Murray has been looking for a pharmacist for going on a twelvemonth and says that will make the matter considerably easier.
“However, back to me nursing Tania. Susanna said that the prolactin tablets that Sun orders are far better than what the NHS provides, and other women here with lactation issues, including trans women, have never taken more than a week for their milk to fully come in, but to help it happen I’ll have to dry nurse Tania before giving her a bottle.” Seeing the blank looks on the other women’s faces she explained, “Allow Tania to suckle even though I have no milk. Susanna said not to give her the bottle till she starts to scream from frustration and hunger and that she’ll be round later this evening to offer aid and advice, for appropriate self massage can bring in a woman’s milk a couple of days sooner.” Adalheidis smiled and added, “I’ll ask Matthew to assist. As to a feeding regime. I intend to feed Tania on demand with formula for as long as necessary and then nurse her on the same regime. Our older more experienced mums here reckon that’s the best way to maximise the sleep you get. They say it may be at peculiar times, but you do get more sleep that way. When was Tania last fed? I’m asking because I don’t want to wake her, but I’m desperate to hold her.”
Jess was sympathetic as she replied, “I’m surprised Tania’s not woken up already with all the activity going on. She’ll probably need changing as soon as she wakes up.”
“Tea? Coffee? Slice of apple pie before you go, Ladies? How about you, Love?”
Matthew replied, “No thanks. You’ll have your hands full with Tania tomorrow, so I need to get back to work, Love. I want to have tomorrow’s work load cleared, so I can take the day off in case either of the kids need me at school, but I’ll be back by half five. It was good to see you again, Jess. Good to meet you, Jym. Call in any time. I’ve got to go. I recommend the apple pie. Bye. I’ll collect your stuff from Susanna on my way back, Love.” Then he was gone.
“Tea, please and I’d love a slice of apple pie too.”
“Same for me please, Adalheidis. Your apple pie?”
“No. It’s Mum’s, but it’s really good, Jess.”
“How are you going to manage work and a baby, Adalheidis?”
“Like every other mum here, Jym. I’ll take her to work. Why?”
“What about feeding her?”
“What about it? I’ll feed her when she wants fed.”
“At work?”
“Aye. Where you from, Jym? I take it it’s somewhere where nursing mums aren’t usually seen?”
“Other than university, I spent all my life in Cheshire before joining NCSG. I’ve never seen a woman nursing other than my sister and that was at her house.”
“That is really sad. Here women nurse babies whenever they demand fed.”
“In front of men‽”
“Well I wouldn’t use the phrase in front of. That sounds like one of those militant lactivists thrusting her breasts into folks’ faces whilst nursing. We’re always discreet, but the presence of men has never been something a nursing mother here would regard as a cause for concern and certainly no reason not to feed a hungry baby. Nursing is easily done without making an exhibition of oneself and putting anything on public display. We don’t worry about men, women or children being aware we are nursing. Why would we be? Too, mums here are not bothered in the least about their kids seeing them nurse a sibling. Morgana, who I spoke to is one of our mums here and she has six teenage kids. A couple of years after she was widowed she and her second husband started on another family. I recall a conversation between her and some outsider women in the best side of the Green Dragon. One of the outsiders was shocked that when her daughter cried she nursed her in front of maybe fifty women. Morgana telt her to grow up saying something to the effect of ‘Every one of us in here has breasts and the only reason they exist is to nurse babies. Any other pleasure they provide is purely our good fortune. I’m certain if I’m not bothered about my teenage sons including their eighteen year old brother and his wife seeing me nurse their sister, I sure as hell ain’t bothered by a room full of women seeing me do it.’ The woman that was so shocked, or at least she made out she was, was never seen here again. Maybe her old man still visits the taproom, but I don’t know. You bothered by it, Jym?”
“Not in the least, but I was seriously surprised. I’m three month gone, so maybe it’s something I shall have to think about. After what you said I’m certain I could do it here, but I doubt that I’d be confident enough to do it elsewhere because of the negative comments I know that I’d receive.”
Adalheidis laught and said, “That’s easily dealt with. Move to here. Even teenage boys with raging hormones wouldn’t even look twice at you nursing. Most wouldn’t consciously register that you were nursing or even that you have breasts. It’s the environment they grow up in. A teenage girl’s breasts are sexual objects and as such of great interest to them. A nursing mothers breasts are a different article altogether. They have to do a deal of maturing before they reëvaluate those as sexually attractive. Fortunately for most of us, that’s the us with the breasts I’m referring to, young men do grow up rather quickly here.”
As the two NCSG women left, Jess said, “I would like to visit again sometime, Adalheidis. Mostly to be able say I did two visits and have them written up for the files. Any time when the children are home that is convenient for you in the next ten days or so would be good, preferably when Matthew is around too. Jym?”
“If I find out something you need to know I’ll let you know. I don’t really need to return, but I’ll do anything for another slice of your mum’s apple pie. Thank her for me will you? And thanks for the tea. Try to get enough sleep.” The NCSG staff left laughing, but Jym, who would be a single mum after her son was born, was left with a lot to think about, mostly about moving to Bearthwaite, nursing him other than in total privacy which she still thought about as exposing her breasts in public, but perhaps mostly about the chances of finding a decent man there. She been telt a lot about Bearthwaite by various colleagues, all of who were exceedingly open minded, others who proved to be otherwise had not lasted long at NCSG, and all of what she’d heard indicated a decent group of folk who just wanted to be left alone to pursue their lives without interference. A group of folk who hurt none who didn’t attack them first, and then they did seem to be rather good at looking after the members of their society as the media had confirmed over recent years. That was the point at which it dawned on her that Adalheidis, who had come over as a charming, caring woman, was also the solicitor who had totally destroyed Bearthwaite’s enemies in court. The solicitor the media had described as the most savage and vicious courtroom performer that any of them had ever seen who had taken the opposition for millions in compensation and damages.
Not long after that Tania awoke and Adalheidis changed her nappy and then fed her exactly according to Susanna’s instructions, both from the limited supplies that Jess had left for her. Both somewhat unfamiliar with the process Tania had taken ten minutes to achieve a successful enough latch to try to nurse. In desperation Adalheidis had coated her nipple and areola with a little of the formula which had finally worked, for a while, then the screaming had started. After not quite finishing her bottle and being winded Tania was sleepy again. Mother and daughter fell asleep in an arm chair with Tania’s right ear hugged tight to her mum’s chest where she was soothed by Adalheidis’ heartbeats. Adalheidis was awakened by Heather shouting “Mummy, Mummy, can I go to play outside again tomorrow?” After putting the still sleeping Tania into the carrycot Adalheidis telt Heather that she could play outside again tomorrow, but the school had a playground as well.
Heather had returned at half past four with most of the children she’d left with. She’d enjoyed herself enormously, but was tired. Some of the younger children said they’d call the following morning to walk to school with her. After they’d gone Adalheidis asked, “You look tired out from playing, Heather. Would you like a little sleep before we have dinner if I promise to wake you up? What would you like to eat?”
Heather nodded in reply to the first question and said, “Fish fingers. They’re my favourite. I like them with ketchup,” in reply to the second. Adalheidis tucked her up in her bed in a now completely organised bedroom and she was asleep in seconds. Heather was still asleep when Matthew arrived home with supplies of nappies, formula, some spare bottles and a pile of clothes donated by other mums that their children had grown out of. The passing on of good but out grown children’s clothes was managed by the mother and baby clinic staff. Mums dropped them off there and other mums collected from there.
“Susanna said she’d call round at about eight after she’d sorted her kids out and left Charlie to ensure homework was done. She said to take two of the calcium tablets with the small one that’s for lactation. The calcium will improve the quality of your milk and protect your teeth and bones which apparently can be dissolved if your milk is short of calcium. She said they don’t taste much different from indigestion tablets like Settlers® or Rennies®. That’s all that she said to tell you. I’ve passed the word round about the possibilities of someone trying to take the girls and Harwell said he’d have a team of rangers help the fencers who are currently working on the Needles Fell side of the lonning and the coppicers who are planting more willow on the beck banking. I’ll have a chat with Sasha about the possibility of flooding the road for a few weeks later tonight. Anything else I need to know, Love?”
“I don’t think so. Tania went straight to sleep again after I changed and fed her, and I’ve no idea how long she’ll sleep for. I suppose we’ll get used to things over a few days. It took maybe ten minutes for her to successfully latch onto my breast, so I suspect she isn’t used to nursing and has only ever been bottle fed before, but hopefully that will change. I don’t think it’s all sunk in yet, Love. I’m a mum! Kiss me and tell me it’s all real.”
Matt did as he was told and said, “The lads at work who’ve kids telt me it never becomes real because every day with kids is different. They reckon the only way to play it is to just deal with it as it arrives. The granddads said that was actually more helpful advice than it appeared to be at first sight. So, Mummy Levens, don’t try to be perfect. I suspect being a mum is one of those jobs where being good enough is good enough, and it will be far less tiring, so you have enough energy to be as good enough as you can be.” He kissed Adalheidis again.
“Okay thanks, Love. I suspect you’re right. I’ll take those pills in a minute with a cup of tea in case they taste awful. Brandon hasn’t rung home, so I presume he’ll be eating here. Heather came home tired about an hour ago and is asleep in her room. I promised to wake her for dinner, and she said she wanted fish fingers with ketchup to eat. What do you fancy?”
“I could go with fish fingers, chips, [US fries] and peas if that’s okay?”
“I’ve got some carp if you’d prefer that? Doubtless half a sliced and buttered loaf would help?”
“No. I’ll go with the fish fingers and I’ll butter the bread. You want a cup of tea? I’m having one.”
“Please.”
Matthew made tea, and they talked of the events of their most unusual day whilst they drank it. It was a little worrying that someone wanted to take the girls, but neither were really concerned, for Bearthwaite was a difficult and dangerous place for outsiders to enter unnoticed and especially so if they were unwanted. After outsiders had tried to burn down Sam Shaw’s barn at Pant Pedwar years ago [see GOM 21] general security at Bearthwaite had been tightened up considerably. If the road were to be flooded it would be even more difficult and dangerous. As Adalheidis was taking their teacups into the kitchen for washing prior to preparing dinner Brandon returned. They heard him shouting, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
Matthew asked, “Had good time, Son?”
“Yes. Brilliant! There were about thirty of us, and we walked over that little bridge along the side of the reservoir up to the farm where the Shaw twins live. Their uncle Hamilton is a vet and was treating some poorly sheep which was super cool to watch and their auntie Diane will be teaching me science. She seemed nice. Janine said that you teach some of the A’ level kids sometimes. Are you a teacher too, Mum?”
“No. I’m a solicitor. I just teach a few lessons a year about the law on different types of companies. Your dad started as a bricklayer, but now he organises all the building and renovation work going on in the valley. He complains sometimes that he has hardly any time available to spend teaching the apprentice bricklayers any more. I think he misses the less complicated life of a bricklayer. But you were telling me about where you went and what you did this afternoon.”
“Yeah. The Shaw girls are really fun to hang out with, but they’re bonkers, especially Michaela. I think they must get into more trouble than most boys and Finn and Theo, their boyfriends, must be just as mental for going out with them. I don’t understand how their mum and dad put up with them, and they keep bees which is a pretty weird sort of a thing to do. This is a really strange place isn’t it? Fun though. Then we walked up to where there were some ferocious looking pigs with huge tusks, so it wasn’t really a surprise to be told they were called Tuskers. I was surprised at how tame they were. Even the big ones like being petted and scratched. The baby pigs are called humbugs, cos they’re striped like humbug sweets and they never stop chasing each other all over the place. The twins have white pigs with big black patches that look like they’ve been painted on called Gloucester Old Spots. After that we walked back down the other side of the reservoir. Chatted for a bit on the green and I came home. I had a really good time. Some of the other kids my age live nearby, but I suppose you knew that already. What are we eating?”
“Fish, chips and peas. You can have carp which is a fish that we harvest from the village pond or fish fingers made here at Bearthwaite from cod caught in the Solway by fishermen from Maryport. The potatoes and the peas are both grown here in the valley. The potatoes are called Johnto’s variety because Uncle Johnto bred them and they’re only available here, and they’re the best you can get for chips, but I don’t know anything about the peas.”
“What’s everyone else having?”
“Your dad and Heather are having fish fingers and I’m having carp cooked in batter like from a chip shop.”
“May I have carp like yours, please? Fish fingers are okay. Heather loves them. She had them at the foster home for the first time and I think she’d eat them for every meal if she could, but I’d rather have proper fish.”
“No problem, Love.”
It was a shock to Adalheidis and Matthew when Brandon abruptly said, “Those people who wanted to adopt my sisters without me are going to come to try to take them away aren’t they? They’re not nice or good people. They’re friends of Buzz and Slut and just like them. I’m not stupid and I’ve got good hearing, so don’t deny it because that won’t make me feel any better. I want to know what’s going on.”
Matthew and Adalheidis glanced at each other and Matthew said, “Okay, Son. You want the truth? All of it? Because it’s not pleasant. If you say yes I’ll tell you, but once you know there’s no going back. You can’t unknow something. Please think carefully before you answer me.”
“I don’t need to think about it. I’ve been protecting Heather from that animal Buzz and his mates for years not months. I won’t tell you what I’ve done because I could get into trouble, and I never told Social Services or the police either, and I have no intention of ever doing so. I lost two little brothers due to starvation and we were all nearly dead from hunger when we finally managed to escape, and I was the one who got us out of there not Social Services or the police. So tell me all of it.”
“Okay. The NCSG investigator, Jym Rosehill, thinks that they want to sell your sisters as sex slaves to perverts who are into little girls and probably use them after that to make snuff movies.(10) Do you know what I mean?”
“Yeah. I know. Buzz was into everything that was sordid and evil. Stuff that would make a decent person threw up. It was impossible for me not to be aware of it, though I’d far rather not have known about it, so I do totally understand what you meant by it being impossible to go back. What is being done about them and when will they get sorted? And I mean preferably dead.” Brandon’s tone of voice was so cold and unforgiving that Adalheidis and Matthew considered it pointless to remonstrate with him, and in any case they had a great deal of sympathy with his viewpoint.
Matthew answered, “Your mum telt you this is a very safe place. Now I’m telling you that too. There are already a group of maybe twenty men all the way down the lonning working on the fences and a similar sized group working on the beck edges planting willow saplings. There are another twenty game rangers helping them. The rangers don’t normally do that sort of work. They normally manage deer and other game. The rangers are all armed.”
“With guns?”
“Shotguns yes. It’s impossible to get into the valley over the marshes at the valley sides because you can’t walk over them. Even after months of dry weather they’re too soft and you would sink and drown in the slime. They’re much worse when they’re waterlogged from the rain which is most of the year. The cliffs at the valley head are fifteen hundred feet [500m] high and sheer and there is only a single way down using the old pack pony trail down the gully, but it’s impassible at this time of the year due to the huge volume of water that cascades down it. You probably saw it on your walk. The only way in to the valley is the lonning, or by helicopter which it’s unlikely in the extreme that they’ll be able to afford, and in any case we’d hear it and be ready for it. You with me so far, Son?”
“Yeah. I saw the gully. Theo said the water coming down it is called a force. I reckon he got that right.”
“The armed men are watching the lonning, and I’ll be speaking to folk who can flood it with water from the reservoir. It’ll be eight feet deep for several miles before dawn tomorrow. By then every adult and older child here will know what’s going on and will alert all of us if they see a stranger. The number at the top of the emergency list on all our mobiles that says general alert in upper case letters rings every phone in the valley and they can all hear what the person who rang it says. To make it ring like all the emergency list numbers you have to press it three times to prevent you ringing it by mistake. When I speak to Sasha later about flooding the lonning you can listen if you like.”
Brandon nodded and said, “Thank you for telling me the truth. Most adults wouldn’t. If I tell you something will you promise you won’t get mad and get rid of us?”
Adalheidis smiled and said, “I can promise that for both of us. I had a really bad life before I came here because I’m trans. Years ago I did some grim and illegal things to get my own back. You know what being trans is, Love?”
“Yeah. Janine explained that to me. You were born a boy like Janine told me she was, but that is hard to believe, Mum, because like Janine you’re so pretty. ”
“Thank you. What is it you want to tell us? Is it about something you did to your parents or their associates?”
“No it’s nothing like that. It’s about a girl. Her name is Melanie. She was one of the kids I spent the afternoon with. She’s nine, well nearly ten, but she looks a lot older than that. She’s really scary, but she likes me. We held hands and just before she went home she kissed me. I liked it and kissed her back. Now I’m wondering if I was being stupid. Will I get into trouble with her dad?”
Adalheidis turned to Matthew and said, “Start peeling potatoes for the chips, Love. I’ll deal with this.” Matthew said nothing, but nodded in gratitude and left. “No. You won’t get into trouble. I’ll have a word with Amarie, Melanie’s mum, though Melanie has probably telt her all about it already, and Dan, Melanie’s dad, will leave the matter up to Amarie. I doubt if there’ll be a girl, or a boy either, who won’t know about the two of you kissing by school tomorrow. The texting tonight will see to that. It’ll be fine. If you like each other, that’s how it is. You are both far too sensible to be silly about it. All girls can be scary to boys, but Amarie will tell Melanie that she is not to abuse that or she will be in trouble. Boys are physically a lot stronger than girls and that can be frightening to girls, and I’m warning you not to abuse that or you will be in trouble. Do you understand that I’m saying when girls and boys become involved with each other they have the ability to hurt each other and the responsibility and obligation not to do that, Love?” Brandon nodded.
“Good. Congratulations. I’m proud of you, Love, for it says a lot of good things about you that you admitted to enjoying being kissed and returning her kiss rather than saying it was her fault and trying to evade your share of the responsibility. I didn’t say that very well, but it is adult behaviour to accept the consequences of one’s actions. Nobody, child or adult, here will give you a hard time about it. Many of the boys will probably be a bit envious, for Melanie is a pretty girl and I know any number of the older boys started to become interested in her when she started to mature. I’m sure you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, that was the scary bit. When she kissed me, she hugged me tight and I could feel her breasts on my chest. The really scary bit was she obviously knew it and was enjoying it. I couldn’t help but enjoy it, Mum, and it had an effect on me that I know she was aware of. She’s not ten till next month, and I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”
“Don’t worry about her age, Love. We all know that girls grow up a bit faster than boys. Just enjoy being with her and don’t do anything silly. That you have doubts about your maturity tells me that you are more mature than you realise. Now, I’ve tidied your room up a bit, but you’ll have to decide for yourself where to put everything. There is a laptop on your bed that Uncle Pat had someone deliver whilst you were out. It’s for your use. School will expect some homework to be sent in over the internet, and some teachers like to set researching a topic as homework prior to covering it in class, but you’ll find all that out soon. It fits in the school bag that’s there too and you will be expected to have it with you during all lessons. I’m going to help your dad in the kitchen. I suggest you organise your room a bit, but be quiet. Heather was exhausted and I only want to wake her up ten minutes before we eat.”
After eating Adalheidis helped Heather to shower and put her to bed. It had been her intention to read Heather a bedtime story, but again Heather was asleep in minutes.
When Matthew rang Sasha he put his phone on speaker so Brandon could hear the conversation. “I was expecting you to ring, Matthew. I know all about it and I had the information cascade protocol activated, so every one must know by now. Bertie took some apprentices up to the dam and by now the sluices will all have been open for an hour. The road will already be under a foot and a half of water and it’ll be eight foot deep by two or three in the morning. I suggest we keep it that way till we hear those monsters have been put where they belong. If they’re in gaol, nothing will happen because the thugs for hire will know none will pay them for taking the girls. Harwell says he thinks someone will be having a look see tonight, but they’ll hold off from doing owt for two or three days. I doubt that they’ll have been able to find out which is your house and I doubt they’ll have any idea what they’re up against either. I suspect Harwell is glad of the opportunity to practise doing some seriously bad harm to some seriously bad folk. By now there will be two or three hundred men with shotguns around the lonning all the way down to the Rise and a team of twenty-odd rangers over on the Flat Top Fell side of the valley looking for any who could be using binoculars trying to identify either of your older kids to see which house they live in. There’s nowhere else that has a line of sight to your house. Harwell has it all in hand and only a fool would cross him. Any vehicle that parks on the car park at the lonning ends will need towing away, for it won’t move under it’s own power till it’s had a visit to a mechanic. You happy with that?”
“Aye, Thanks. Goodnight, Sasha.”
“Goodnight and you and your family have my and Elle’s congratulations and best wishes for the future.”
“He sounded like a seriously scary man, Dad. Who is he?”
“Sasha Vetrov. He’s a very kind man who has done an awful lot of good things for folk here. You’ll meet him soon.”
Five days after her adoption Tania was being nursed by Adalheidis with no need for a bottle of formula to help out and ensure she had enough to eat any more. When Jess and Jym arrived that Sunday afternoon Adalheidis was nursing. “I hope you realise that I’m only here for the pie,” Jym joked. “Jess is working and being paid on NCSG time, but I’m just socialising on my own time. Where is everyone.”
“Heather will be back in a bit. She’s with Matthew who’s looking at a couple of houses that are being renovated. She’s definitely a daddy’s girl. They’re walking off their lunch. Brandon had lunch with Melanie’s family. They’re on kissing terms, and will both be back here in maybe half an hour which gives Tania time to finish her lunch and for us to have a cup of tea and a slice of apple pie. I made this one. I suggest we have a slice now before Matthew and Brandon return and finish it, by which time Tania will be ready for her afternoon sleep.”
A fortnight later a dozen folk were in gaol awaiting trial on any number of offences against children. None were granted bail, for they were all considered to be a flight risk. The anticipated abduction attempt didn’t happen, and things returned to whatever passed for normal at Bearthwaite. It wasn’t long before Heather had no memories of anything other than her parents at Bearthwaite, for the rest had faded. However, there were things that Brandon would never forget, nor ever forgive and it would be decades before his murderous intentions of retribution were laid to rest.
Noëlle and her wife Jacqueline had decided they wished to start a family. However, on discussing the matter at length they had decided the issue was fraught with problems. Jacqueline, the Bearthwaite architect, had been adamant that she was not prepared to use an outsider as a sperm donor. “The world is going mental out there, Noëlle. I’m truly glad I came to live here and even happier that I met you, My Love, but I don’t want either of our babies to have any part of outside and certainly not fifty percent of their DNA to come from a potential lunatic. I want Bearthwaite men to father our babies.”
Jacqueline had clearly been upset and the issue even more clearly mattered to her a great deal, so Noëlle had said, “Okay, okay, Love. Calm down. Nowt is going to happen till we are both in total agreement with each other as to the choice of our babies’ fathers. This is too important to both of us to disagree about. I’d suggest younger men or even older teenagers, but that is not fair to them. Fathering our children and the subsequent realisation that we were a couple that would exclude them from our relationship probably would be devastating to men of that age. My major condition is no technology is to be involved because I read once that it is not as safe for the baby as fertilisation and impregnation by the way nature intended. So if this is on we need to find men who will have sex with us knowing we were trying to become pregnant. No tricks, no lies, no burst condoms nor anything like that because that is not how Bearthwaite folk behave. Okay?”
“I agree. I may not have originated from here, but I do understand what you are saying, and I totally agree. Anything else is next door to sperm jacking though without any bad financial intentions. As to the no technology, I have never had sex with a man and I really don’t wish to. However, because I accept there is more than a good reason for doing so, doubtless once I become a little aroused it won’t be too bad. At least I hope so because if I have sex for the first time just after my period has ended, which seems sensible to ensure that I have the best chance of becoming pregnant over my ovulation, it will be necessary to have sex probably every two days till my following period starts. Am I making sense, Love?”
“Well I can’t find a reason to fault your logic so far. You’re talking about having sex with a man what? Ten or twelve times a cycle till you become pregnant which could take a few months. You okay with that, Jacqui Love? I mean are you really okay with that? And would you be okay with me doing the same? You know I’ve never had sex with a man either, but though I can’t say I’m looking forward to it I can’t help but be a little curious.”
“I want a baby. There’s no way you can get me pregnant, and I can see you are seriously unhappy about the idea of test tubes, clinics and the like. So no, I’m not truly happy about the idea, but I’m even less happy about upsetting you, and I too am a little curious. We have a good relationship and so far we’ve had few disagreements and no serious disagreements. I really don’t wish to sow the seeds of either. So I’m willing to accept what must be done. To put it crudely, Love, if the price of marital harmony and family contentment is I have to get regularly fucked by a male chauvinist pig for a few months I’m willing to pay it. However, I don’t believe that any Bearthwaite man willing to assist us would be anything but careful and considerate. What hasn’t been mentioned so far is the almost certainty that a suitable man would already be deeply involved in a relationship. I wouldn’t be prepared to have sex with such a man without his woman’s approval, for that goes against my morality. As for you doing the same, of course I’m okay with it.”
Noëlle took a while to respond but eventually said, “Trying to find two willing potential fathers will doubtless double the difficulties involved, so maybe we should look for one willing to give us both a child. That way they would be genuine siblings which I think I would prefer. What do you think?”
“Makes sense, or at least to start with it does. I suggest we get our phones out and look through the data base to see what we can find.”
As the women looked at their phones both became more and more despondent. However, Jacqueline eventually said, “I’ve found a possibility that makes sense for a whole variety of reasons. My cousin Godfrey is your brother in law and your sister Diana would probably be okay about it. What do you think?”
Noëlle replied, “We can but try. I’m not as confident as you appear to be about Diana.”
They approached Diana first who thought the whole matter to be hilarious. “I suspect Godfrey will take a bit of persuading that I am truly okay about it because unlike me he doesn’t really understand how Noëlle really feels about women as opposed to men. I think he sees it as a lifestyle that some women chose rather than as something that is fundamental to their very being. I know that she will view Godfrey as just a source of semen, but for God’s sake don’t explain that to him because he like any other man could not take that other than as a shattering blow to his ego. How is this going to work? One at a time or both of you together. Where do you wish this to happen? and how long have I got in which to prepare him?”
“Preferably both of us, for that would at least provide us with the opportunity to get each other excited enough to deal with it without feeling any revulsion. We’d hoped you’d be okay about sending him round to our spot. Our cycles have long since synchronised and we’re due on(11) in about five days so we’d thought maybe in about five and a half weeks, the cycle after this one?”
“Okay, that seems sensible. You do realise that even if we three keep our mouths shut there is no way you can prevent folk from working out what’s going on? Even under pressure Godfrey won’t say anything because he’d consider that to be improper behaviour, but folk will see him going to your spot and once it is obvious that you are expecting they’ll track the dates back. It’s up to you, but I’m not bothered if you admit to it, and Godfrey won’t be, but he won’t say owt. Even under pressure he’ll ignore questions or become damned unpleasant telling folks to mind their own business. However, if it’s known about folk won’t talk about it for long and it’ll make life easier in years to come when your children start asking questions. I have just one condition. I presume you’ll want more than one child apiece. Godfrey would be upset if you chose another father in future, and I won’t like that, so if that comes to pass I insist you use Godfrey again. Do I have your word?”
Noëlle and Jacqueline gazed long at each other, smiled and eventually Noëlle said quietly, “Yes we agree. Thank you, Sis. Let’s keep it all in the family and give the outsiders a tiny justification for the accusations of us being interbreds.”
At that all three women smiled and laught as Godfrey came in from work. The next two hours would have been extremely interesting to most folk. Godfrey, however, was still in shock three days later, but as Diana had said, eventually he came round. “You’ll enjoy it eventually. Love. I’m okay with that, but I want you to be gey gentle with them. As you are aware, neither has ever had a man before and both are nervous. If you are kind and take account of their feelings I know they will never refuse to acknowledge you as the father of their children which will be rewarding for you in years to come. This is a great honour so treat it as such.”
“Why are you willing to allow this, Love? Most women would be in fits of rage.”
“Because I love my sister, and I know she would do it for me were our circumstances reversed. I know she and Jacqueline are not trying to take my man off me. She chose us rather than Faye and Mark because you are Jacqueline’s cousin which gives both of them a family connection to you which they value. Neither of them were prepared to use an outsider as a father of their babies, it was a Bearthwaite man or none. It was and is important to them both that the whole matter is conducted with integrity and that all involved, which to them includes me, are fully aware and okay with what’s going on. They could not have conducted themselves with any higher degree of propriety or honour. Strange to say, I feel rather proud that out of all possibilities they chose my man. You are special, My love, for three Bearthwaite women have chosen you to father their babies.” Diana, however, didn’t tell Godfrey of the promise to only have Godfrey father any future children of Noëlle and Jacqueline.
Two months later Noëlle was expecting and the month after that so was Jacqueline.
It was six months later that two bodies were discovered by Saul’s men buried under six feet [2m] of clay as they removed the clay for Celia Levens’ pottery from the Needles Fell side of the lonning with a mechanical shovel mounted on the front end of a tractor. The sheet piles that kept the clay back from the lonning ran the length of the clay edge, which was about three-quarters of a mile [1km] long. The piles were on average ten metres [30 feet] behind the fence that kept livestock off the road and extended into the air for three metres [10 feet]. Where the clay was allowed to go over the lower section of piles for collection there was a further length of piles at the lonning’s edge that prevented it from going onto the lonning. After heavy rain it was not unusual for the clay between the two rows of piles to be two metres [six feet] deep. It was determined by police investigators that the men, who had been well known to the police for years as thugs for hire, had been going to abduct the girls and had decided the best way to avoid the flooded lonning and the dangerous marshes was to cross the hillside moving more or less parallel to the lonning halfway between the drystone wall at the foot of the slope leading up to the fell and the steel sheet piles that retained the slippery and highly mobile clay, which was rendered even more mobile by the rain, preventing it from covering the lonning. They clearly weren’t aware that Harwell’s men had never even considered that any would attempt to gain access to the village that way, for it was a suicidally dangerous route and they had been buried under the avalanche of clay that their passage had triggered.
The suggestion that the avalanche had been triggered by someone else using some sort of a bomb was dismissed by all other than the handful of Bearthwaite folk who knew that Harwell had a store of all sorts of conventional military and rather unconventional weaponry too. Murray who’d paid for Harwell’s armaments sourced from all over the globe had said nothing. Even Sasha had only raised his eyebrows to Murray when an outsider in the taproom of the Dragon had concluded it just wasn’t possible, and that had been enough to ensure their silence. That Harwell had a route up to the top of Flat Top Fell all were aware of, for since his arrival at Bearthwaite he’d become an international class rock climber and ran the Bearthwaite rock climbing club mostly attended by teenagers. Too, it was normal for him to disappear from sight for several weeks at a time as a result of his job, for he would never ask his rangers to do something he had not already done himself which was why he was so well thought of by them. At the end of it it was only Sasha who was intelligent enough to put all the pieces together. Harwell had a route up to the top of Flat Top Fell that only he could climb. Which Sasha realised was where he could cache whatever he wished with none able to find it and it would give him a line of sight for a long shot to the clay on the other side of the valley.
Too, Harwell had purchased numerous weapons that could fire thirty millimetre depleted uranium shells. He had also purchased tens of thousands of thirty millimetre depleted uranium shells and only one would be necessary to cause the clay avalanche on the lonning if it were aimed accurately. Too, Harwell had purchased state of the art sighting mechanisms all his staff routinely used, and he trained them in skills the army weren’t even aware off. The army were soldiers which he was not. Harwell was a dedicated defender of the folk who’d rescued him from a life of hell, given him a home, a life, a wife, a family and a place where he was a man who was counted amongst their most important folk. To wit, he was a killer with neither knowledge of, nor interest in, the Geneva convention. In his mind those who made war on his folk were fair game and as such to be killed in the most humane way possible like any other game. That meant, to him, leaving no wounded to live out their lives as cripples, he wouldn’t do that to a deer and he wouldn’t do it to a so called human either. Much of the armaments he had issued to his rangers whilst legal for hunting would contravene the Geneva Convention if used in a war zone, for they would kill rather than incapacitate, read maim, and he considered that to be the high moral stance to take, for any enemy he used them on would have attacked his folk, and he would only offer them death in defence of his folk, and he’d never had any intention of attacking any, just defending against attackers.
In place of tracer ammunition, which would have provided a visual sighting as to where they had hit and a sighting to an enemy as to where his rangers were, Harwell had trained his staff to use low calibre, extreme high velocity shells that the enemy would be unable to see and probably be unaware of. Used with high accuracy optics his staff could correct their aim to maximum effect. The use of such ensured his forces’ heavier calibre weaponry ammunition would arrive exactly where required. That heavier calibre ammunition was usually thirty millimetre depleted uranium shells known as hell busters and a dozen similar names which all implied massive destruction. Putting all that together with what he knew concerning Harwell’s movements and disappearances Sasha smiled as he realised he had finally found an heir to protect Bearthwaite in the way he’d been doing for decades. All he had to do was hand over his mantel and that he knew how to do.
Eventually all the arrested connected with Adalheidis’ children were tried, found guilty and sentenced to long terms of imprisonment which a number did not survive. Some were murdered in gaol by other prisoners who took a dim view of child molesters, and some just didn’t live long enough to serve their sentences.
It was to be a century and a half before redevelopment of the area had discovered the badly decomposed bodies of eleven men and three women hidden in the basement of the house near Deadwater that Brandon had rescued his sisters from. Post mortems determined they had all been poisoned and had their throats cut probably while the poison was still taking effect. The speculation that the killings had been done by a boy subsequently adopted as a Bearthwaite resident had died the death due to lack of evidence and interest because by then Bearthwaite folk were … well let us leave what Bearthwaite folk would become or achieve for the future, for that would be another collection of sǫgur(12) altogether.
Yuli Kasparov, his parent’s were Russian and Yuli truly was his name, though as an insult his peers in London where he lived pronounced and wrote his name as Julie, was 28, small of build and universally despised by his peers for his so called lack of manliness. He was, however, incredibly clever and even more innovative, and even as an undergraduate had been known to be earning a lot of money as a result of his globally known activities concerning vastly increasing the efficiency of electrical motors and the like. He was the world expert on maximising the electromagnetic flux linkage in devices that utilised the phenomenon. He knew what his dreams were even if it seemed unlikely that he would ever achieve them. Most suspected his dreams would be connected with academic and financial success, for he had not been known to succeed at any other endeavour. However, more than anything else he wanted a wife to love, a woman who would love him and respect him for his ability to earn enough to look after them both and their children, and more importantly his desire to do so.
Yuli knew he would have liked a woman who would make other men envious of him, but accepting that that would merely be feeding his own hurt ego and be unlikely to happen he knew he would be happy to accept a woman who simply loved him in return for his love and who would be happy to rear a family of children with him, preferably a large family of children. There was no doubt in his mind that he was just a ordinary a man, in the current vernacular a binary man, and the slurs that had been cast his way since his early teens of being gay or trans were just inadequate folks trying to make themselves feel better by insulting someone who they knew would neither argue nor fight back. He’d got no problems with any of the LGBTP,(13) but he knew none of the implied labels applied to him, for he was more ordinary and mundane than any of those folk who he mildly envied for their distinction of being at least different enough to attract negative reactions far greater than any he’d ever attracted. Then he met Annette.
Annette was five foot three, beautiful beyond belief, of average intelligence and she’d earnt her living as a model from the age of fourteen. She was a house hold name over the entire globe, but to her bitter and deep disappointment she had never met a man who saw her as herself, Annette Daleson, rather than as Annette the super model who earnt a fortune, and she had no intention of ever becoming a trophy wife, nor girlfriend either. As a result at the age of twenty-five she had never had a boyfriend.
Annette met Yuli in a major UK supermarket. She was behind him in a queue when the cashier said that his card hadn’t been accepted. Much to her surprise Yuli had calmly said, “Fine, put it all back on the shelves. I know the card is good, so I’ll shop somewhere else, and not bother shopping here again. I shall of course put the entire tale along with my body camera video on social media. Thank you for wasting my time.”
Annette was upset that a man she considered to be an honest person and a genuine customer had been so badly treated, and much to her surprise before he’d walked more than a couple of paces away she’d offered to pay for his groceries. “I am truly very grateful for your offer, Miss, but no. No thank you,” Yuli had replied. “This is the third time in as many months they have done this to me. My card has never been rejected anywhere else, and I know there is way more than enough money in the account that backs the card and my credit is good for at least a hundred thousand in a single transaction, so as far as I’m concerned they can live with the consequences. I have a suspicion, which I admit I have no evidence to support, that the credit checker’s software that they use has a routine that checks for foreign names like mine with a negative effect. I don’t wish to spend money here any more, and I certainly don’t wish anyone else to spend money here on my behalf. Thank you very much for your kind offer, but they don’t deserve customers like yourself. May I buy you a coffee somewhere that will accept my card in gratitude for your good Samaritan deed?” Again to her surprise Annette had agreed and in support of her possible new friend she had walked away from her trolley of groceries too.
Over coffee they had exchanged thumbnails of their lives as well as their phone numbers. Annette had not got on with her parents who’d taken all her early earnings. At the age of sixteen she’d left home and sued them for her earnings which thanks to a good solicitor she’d recovered by the time she was eighteen. The couple dated for three months before losing their virginities to each other. Yuli proposed to Annette and she’d said yes. They were married three weeks later at the local registry office and then came the discussions concerning where they would live, for neither of their rented apartment flats were really large enough and Annette was as interested in a family as Yuli, for which they definitely would need larger accommodation.
“Yuli, how much money do you have saved? I ask because I have enough for us and a large family of children without either of us ever having to work if we were reasonably careful with money. So we don’t have to live here where property is so expensive. We could just get out of London. You’ve always said you could work from home so it doesn’t matter where you live. Most of my work is abroad. Typically I go for maybe a week’s work, return and don’t work for a month, sometimes two, so I could live anywhere too. When I’m pregnant I’ll just stop work. To be honest I don’t care if I never work again, for I’d much rather be a mum and a housewife, though a garden for flowers and vegetables would be pleasant. Getting back to money, it would be nice to know what we have to work with. I receive more than most folk earn just in interest of my investments. I’m asking so we can work out what we can afford.”
Yuli laught and replied, “I earn a fortune just off the royalties on my patents, so we could afford to live anywhere you like. I’d like to get the hell out of London and live a more rural life, preferably up north somewhere, people are friendlier up there, and I like your idea of a garden. I don’t want to stop work because I enjoy what I do, but I want to be a dad which is more important to me than working. I regularly correspond with a man called Bertram Winstanley who lives up near the Scottish border somewhere. He’s a highly intelligent and educated electrical engineer with a doctorate who chooses to work in his grandfather’s general engineering works because the lifestyle where he lives in a small isolated village is so much better than in a town or city. I don’t know how many children he has, but I do know he has a large family. I’ll give him a call and see what he can suggest.”
Yuli’s phone call took over an hour. Yuli had explained his situation and what he and Annette would like to do about it. In turn Bertie had explained about Bearthwaite and its way of life. Bertie had said maybe the couple wouldn’t like Bearthwaite and possibly Bearthwaite wouldn’t like them, though he considered either unlikely in the extreme. He’d suggested that Annette and Yuli came to visit for a month and that he’d book them a suite in the local Inn. He’d arrange for Yuli to see what working facilities he’d have available and for Annette to meet local women with a view to seeing if she could cope with their rather old fashioned views on life. “Your missus is a world famous model, Yuli, and wears the absolute latest in fashionable clothes. Christ even I’ve heard of her as a result of what I’ve heard Emily talking about with other lasses. Women here are generations behind outside in some ways though they are generations in front in others.
“Bearthwaite women do not under any circumstances wear trousers, and would never accept Annette if she did unless it were somewhere else and she was modelling them. Only tourist and visitor women wear trousers here, and even then the women who are highly thought of who are repeat visitors don’t, or at least they never wear trousers here. There is a pretty rigid code operated by our womenfolk as to what constitutes a decent woman here, and I mean all our womenfolk, from lasses just out of nappies to those getting ready for their shrouds. To them all that code is something that defines their feminity in their own eyes. To be a decent caring wife is something that’s important to them, but much more important is to be a decent caring mum. In general men’s codes here are much more relaxed, but men and women regard being a good neighbour as something that typifies our folk. It is what makes us different from outsiders and is an utterly inflexible thing. We are completely okay about any member of the LGBTP and there are a large number of them who live amongst us as a completely integrated part of us. They’re just folk, Bearthwaite folk. That tolerance is mandatory for all Bearthwaite folk, else they can not be Bearthwaite folk.
“Too, which may be of interest to you, some time ago we started a program that takes street kids out of lives of hell. We have hundreds of them now, all Bearthwaite folk. All are adopted by our families and in school, or training if they are old enough. We accept girls and boys, but we will not accept just any. We have to be convinced they can become Bearthwaite folk before we accept them. It’s pretty much an open secret amongst the powers that be that, though most of those kids with us are completely legitimate as regards the paperwork, there are a number of kids that we accept who have been seriously abused who need us badly, so we just hide them at Bearthwaite in amongst all the other kids. The authorities don’t even look into the matter, for I suspect that it suits Social Services not to have to deal with matters that they can’t afford to handle properly, and the police are grateful that as a result of our activities whole waves of petty crime have just disappeared. Do you think that Annette and yourself will be okay with all that?”
“No problems at all for either of us, Bertie. Like I told you, I’ve had the phone on speaker and Annette has heard all that and is smiling and nodding. I’ll talk to her some more, and we’ll set things up at our end to pay a visit. When would be convenient for you?”
“Any time at all, Lad. Just let us know when you’ll be arriving at Carlisle station and I’ll arrange to have you picked up.”
“Christ, Granddad. We’ve got the world authority on electric motors, generators and the like wanting to live here with his newly married wife, and they want a big family. They’re okay about adoption though I gather they want some of their own too. I’ve known Yuli for a few years and he’s a decent bloke who’ll fit in well. I’ve hardly spoken to his missus, but she seems a nice lass. I’ve persuaded them to visit for a month. Gustav is going to be well chuffed.”
“Aye well, Son. Good planning is important, but you have to have your share of luck. Though as I’ve telt you many a time, there’s no such thing as luck, it’s what happens when planning meets opportunity and you grab it firmly with both hands. Well done lad.”
Six weeks later Yuli and Annette had moved in, Yuli was working on improving the hydro powered generator at the foot of the old pack pony trail and the similar one that took power from the water on its way to down country. They were still working on Annette’s first pregnancy and had adopted four street children from Leeds, two girls aged six and eight both without benefit of paperwork and two boys aged five and seven again without benefit of paperwork. Annette had decided to give up modelling in favour of being a mum, though she did a bit of part time work in Christine’s preserving kitchens at the bobbin mill.
Aisling, an Irish woman who was a widowed sister of one of Siobhan’s distant relatives had left Ireland for Bearthwaite. Aisling’s daughter, Saoirse,(14) had been the only Irish child in her class. One day twelve year old Saoirse came home crying because she’d been bullied because couldn’t understand what the others including the teacher had been saying. Aisling had a young, but big lurcher dog named Smitty, but even accompanied by Smitty she still wouldn’t go out on her own for fear of the intimidating behaviour of the immigrants who’d taken over not just Saoirse’s school but the entire area too. To Aisling it was not a matter of colour it was a matter of her culture and language becoming subsumed by the threatening and restrictive behaviour of a alien culture that placed no value on women. Saoirse’s experience at school was the final straw and she rang Siobhan to see if she could help.
A week later Aisling, Saoirse and Smitty, were in a large Mercedes car with all their belongings in a shipping container both on a ferry from Belfast going to Cairnryan in Scotland which was not far from Stranraer. The shipping container was on the back of Harry’s waggon which he was driving and Tracy Maxwell was driving the Mercedes. All were on their way to Bearthwaite. Ironically, a month or so later Aisling married Zia, a Bearthwaite man of Bangladeshi descent, who worked as a ranger and also as a part time fencer. They adopted five street kids, two boys and three girls, from Sheffield. Previously an only child Saoirse had been delighted to then have older and younger siblings. Bearthwaite provided them all with a home and protection from the insanity that was the outside world. Aisling found employment with Vincent curing and making meat products, something she’d done most of her life and at which she excelled. Tony had taken Smitty in hand for though he wasn’t as fast as the fastest of lurchers he was fast enough and had such tremendous stamina that he could keep going after a hare when other faster dogs had to give up the chase. Tony considered that Smitty just needed a little training with some older more experienced dogs. It was considered amusing that Smitty had been named after Smithwick’s,(15) an Irish red ale due to the unusual colour of his coat.
Yvonne and Eamonn’s efforts had finally born fruit. They’d been looking for older children to adopt who’d aged out of the official system and their adverts which had been carefully worded by Murray and a team of half a dozen other folk had been placed in a variety of places that were not the usual places that were used when looking for folk. University student’s union notice boards, shop advertising boards and a selection of tabloid newspapers were all used amongst a host of other even more unlikely places. Yvonne and Eamonn had both agreed with the consensus of local opinion that great care needed to be taken when interpreting responses and even more when interviewing any folk who were winnowed out of the responses. Too, it was agreed that their best readers of folk needed to be used for the interviewing. Elle had been the obvious first choice and she had chosen Adalheidis, Alf and Harwell to assist her. Alf had suggested they be accompanied by Black Theo who whilst he was barely a teenager he was very insightful regarding folk due to his years spent surviving on the streets before coming to Bearthwaite. Harwell had immediately agreed with Alf. In all thirteen had been interviewed in two groups interviewed over a fortnight apart.
All seven of the first group had been decided against immediately. Six had shrugged and walked away, but Sim, a young man of eighteen had broken down and asked why he had been rejected, “I tried so hard to be what I thought you wanted. Just tell me and I’ll do it. I’ve always wanted a mum and dad so badly. Nobody looked at me even once never mind twice for adoption at the orphanage. I never could understand why. I not particularly good looking, but I’m not ugly. I’m no genius, but I studied hard and managed to gain a place at Newcastle University to study pharmacy.”
Theo looked at Elle and said, “Needs looked at again. Maybe trying too hard to be what he thought you wanted instead of trying to be the best he could be and remain himself.”
“Sim? Is that your real name?” asked Adalheidis.
“It’s Simon, but that’s what I’ve always been called.”
“You said you are no genius, but I’ve just looked it it up. To study pharmacy at Newcastle you need AAB in STEM A’ levels. Is that what you achieved?”
Sim hesitated, “No. I got four A s at A’ level. Maths, physics, chemistry and biology. I’m only any good at sciences. When you have no home to go to and the college library is at least warm studying is a piece of cake. The orphanage chucked me out the day I turned eighteen. I never asked for much out of life, just a mum and a dad and somewhere to study. This was the best offer I’ve ever seen.” Sim looked at Theo and said, “You’ve lived on the streets too, haven’t you? I can tell. How did you get a home here?”
“Pure luck, nothing else. I was losing a fight against six or seven bigger boys and Black Simon rescued me and brought me here. He’s Jamaican, but has the name cos he’s a blacksmith. I’m his apprentice and they call me Black Theo. I’m nowt compared with you, just an apprentice blacksmith, but for me it’s the best job I can think of and the forge is always warm even on the coldest days in winter. Which beats the crap out of freezing your arse off on the streets. Listen, Sim, I’ll tell you how it is here and then you can start again, okay?” Sim nodded and the adults waited whilst Theo held forth for twenty minutes giving a condensed version of Bearthwaite principles, morals and expected behaviours for men.
In response Sim said, “I didn’t understand a lot of that, but despite half starving sometimes I’ve never stolen anything, and I don’t have a problem with anyone being LGBTP. I’ve never belonged anywhere, so I don’t understand any that you said about that. I’ve never had a girlfriend, but I can’t see that I would treat anybody least of all a girl badly. I just want a home and parents. I can’t think of anything else to say.”
Theo looked at the adults and said, “Murray needs to keep looking, or he’ll have to wait four years at least for this one. I reckon he should meet Yvonne and Eamonn, so all is squared away before term starts in October. He’s straight and honest and the truth is you don’t know exactly what you’re doing or looking for because you’ve never been here before. I’d tek a chance, or at least I’d give Yvonne and Eamonn the opportunity to tek it.”
Sim asked, “I don’t understand what Theo is saying half the time because of his accent. What did all that mean?”
Alf said kindly, “It means, Lad, that Yvonne and Eamonn who are the ones looking to adopt kids of your age or older are going to be the ones making the final decision, not us. Murray is what I suppose would be called the mayor in other spots and he’s looking for a pharmacist to take the pressure of our GP and his medical team. Theo said he needs to keep looking because even if you stay here it’ll be a minimum of four years before you can do the job. As far as we’re concerned this interview is over and Elle will take you to meet Yvonne and Eamonn.”
As Elle was escorting Sim to Yvonne and Eamonn’s house Sim asked, “Why was Theo there? He was no more than fourteen was he?”
Elle chuckled and replied, “He’s not even that, but he’s good at reading folk and he made a better call than the rest of us, and without giving anything away he wasn’t the only one there who’s lived on the streets and yet he still made the best call. There are a lot of folk at Bearthwaite who have lived rough. As Theo telt you it’s an unusual place. Now here we are.” Elle knocked on the door which was opened by a plain looking woman with a big smile. “Yvonne, I’d like to introduce Simon who is known as Sim. You have Theo to thank for us finally agreeing to bring him to see you. From here on in we are all agreed the decision is yours and Eamonn’s to make. I’ll leave him with you. Is Eamonn here?”
“No but he’ll be back in a few minutes.” Elle turned to go. “Thank you for your effort, Elle. Many more to go?”
“Just six. I’ll catch you later.”
Yvonne asked, “Have you eaten? And more importantly what would you like to be called? If this is going to be a new start you can chose any name you like.”
“Simon would be good. I haven’t eaten, but I’m too nervous to be hungry. I’d like a cup of tea if that’s not too much trouble?”
“I’ll make a pot of tea. Eamonn, my husband, will be back in a minute and I expect he’d appreciate a cup too. There’s little point in us talking about things till he’s here, and doubtless Elle will have phoned him to say you’re here.”
“So, Simon, Theo thinks well of you which is definitely a good start. Tell us about yourself and why you want to be here. Then we’ll tell you about us.”
By the time they’d finished it was time to prepare dinner. Yvonne and Eamonn were amazed at Simon’s scholastic achievements and he was surprised to learn that they hadn’t been married long and that Yvonne too was a recent incomer to Bearthwaite. He’d been aware from the advert that they were looking for more than just a son and said he’d be happy to have siblings for he’d always been on his own before.
The selection committee of five interviewed the remaining six a fortnight later and three of them withdrew. It seemed Bearthwaite was not what they had thought it to be and was not what they were looking for. Two of them had been clearly affronted by Theo being there interviewing them. As Alf said after they had gone, “Just as well they said no, because I would have done. If they’re not bright enough to see why Theo was here and are offended by that then we have no use for them.” The remaining three were all young women, twenty-eight year old Evie, twenty year old Maya and nineteen year old Summer. They all wished employment in the valley rather than to find work outside. Theo didn’t have as much to say about any of them as he’d had to say about Simon, but the four adults were happy to pass all three of them on to Yvonne, Eamonn and Simon. For various reason all three women were insecure and timid, but happy to find a home and a family. Evie became particularly close to Simon, whilst Maya and Summer achieved a similar closeness, but within a matter of months the four siblings and their parents had become what they’d never experienced before a close knit family and the girls were looking about for romantic interests. They were all a little upset when Simon started at Newcastle but were looking forward to his return in December. Simon was grateful beyond words that he had a warm room and enough money to feel safe and secure and better still a home to return to when the term was over. His sisters hadn’t telt him but they were looking for a romantic interest for Simon as well as themselves.
After interviewing three potential pharmacists Murray was beginning to lose hope. All three had been male and chauvinists, pigs to boot probably too, he’d said cynically to himself. He’d just one more to go, Lennox MacUspaig, a name he’d never heard of. He was hoping that at the very least he didn’t have to deal with yet another MCP,(16) but he doubted anything would come it. Twenty-nine years old, single and with a CV(17) which was to say the least sparce. Murray was stunned when an attractive young woman came in to shake his hand. She saw the look on his face and asked, “You expected a man?”
“Yes I did. I’ve never come across a female Lennox before and I’ve never come across your surname before. Your CV is somewhat sparce, My dear, and gave no clues as to your sex. However, sit down and tell me why you wish to work here.”
“It’s a long story, but I’ll try to keep to what matters. And I’ll explain about my name as I go which is all part of the explanations. My father’s surname was McDonald, my mother was a McBeth. He turned into a wife beater when I was a toddler. She left with me and changed her name to MacUspaig which is a family name from the Isles that died out in the male line in the early twentieth century. She did that to avoid him following her. Lennox is a family name that has somewhat indiscriminately been given to girls and boys for centuries. My mother died shortly before I qualified. Thirty-odd years of stress and anxiety doubtless shortened her life. I married shortly after qualifying, but I seem to be no better at picking husbands than my mother. Struan put me in hospital for a fortnight and on discharge I didn’t bother going back home. I’m now divorced, but he keeps looking for me.
“I think when he finds me he’ll kill me, so staying in one place long enough to hold down a job is dangerous, so I’ve been surviving on the odd day’s work as a locum, which at least keeps my professional registration up to date. Worse still my father has discovered my name and he’s looking for me as well. I don’t think changing my name is worth doing because it didn’t help my mother much, and I doubt if it’ll help me either. The police say there’s nothing they can do to either till I have some hard evidence that they are threat to me. May be another broken jaw or death would do the trick. I like my work, but I want to be safe. I’d seen your advertisement in a few places. It was the last one that promised safety in a remote and isolated village that was well protected at all times that attracted me. I asked around about this place. Most of what I heard I understood and entirely agree with. What I didn’t understand didn’t seem very significant to me, but that may be just due to my ignorance. I know eventually I shall want a husband and a family, but would that make me unacceptable? I’m not sure there’s much more I can add to what I have already said.”
“I think, My dear, you need to talk to Elle. She may be able to provide you with a better sense of security than I can. If she says we want you, and I am sure she shall, for I do, she’ll sort out some accommodation for you and arrange for your possessions to be brought here without leaving any trace as to your whereabouts. Unfortunately your professional association publishes lists of it’s members and where they work, though not their addresses, but if you work here it doesn’t require a rocket scientist to work out that you live here. I’ll see what we can do to help. Our solicitors’ research team may be able to dig up something so that you are, how can I put it, a full time locum on permanent secondment to our pharmacy, which you will have to set up. After Elle you need to speak to Sun our GP who is currently buying all our medical supplies on the world markets for far less than the NHS is paying for inferior products in many cases. Actually I buy them, or at least my staff do, but he tells us what to source. I’m the accountant who jimmies the money back out of the NHS. With a bit of luck you’ll soon be sourcing them, though I’ll still be gouging the money back from the NHS. I should perhaps add that my staff also source drugs and medical supplies for the chiropodists, the dentists, the optician and our vet too. I’ll also ask Harwell who is in charge of our rangers, which effectively makes him our head of security, to have a word with you concerning what he needs to know to keep you safe.”
A week later Lennox was streamlining the purchase, storage and distribution of medical supplies, and spending time with Edwin Burn one of the fencers who had decided to take her surname upon their marriage. Clan MacUspaig was staging a come back
1 Exponential growth can’t happen for any organism because eventually it would run out of resources and poison itself in it’s own waste products. That was the basis of what has since been referred to as the Malthusian population collapse implied for humans by the Reverend Thomas Robert Malthus in his 1798 ‘An Essay on the Principle of Population’.
2 The Logistic Curve. Since population growth is limited by resources such as food, an initial exponential growth of a population begins to slow as competition for those resources increases. The growth of the population becomes linear and eventually slows nearly to zero as the population reaches the carrying capacity for the environment. The result is an S-shaped curve of of population growth known as the logistic. The basic equation can be improved in a number of ways, but each makes the equation more complex and so more difficult to work with.
3 RPGs, Rocket Propelled Grenades.
4 Nürnberg Trials. Held for the purpose of bringing Nazi war criminals to justice, the Nürnberg trials were a series of 13 trials carried out in Nürnberg, Bavaria, Germany, between 1945 and 1949. The defendants, who included Nazi Party officials and high ranking military officers along with German industrialists, lawyers and doctors, were indicted on such charges as crimes against peace and crimes against humanity. The Nürnberg executions by hanging took place on 16 October 1946, shortly after the conclusion of the trials. For many their defence was that they were in the military and were merely carrying out their orders. It was not accepted as a valid defence then, and the ‘Nürnberg defence’, as it has come to be known, has never been accepted as valid by any court of repute since.
5 RUC, the Royal Ulster Constabulary was the police force in Northern Ireland from 1922 to 2001.
6 A quarter bat is a quarter of a brick.
7 Thermalite. The marketing blub describes Thermalite as a sustainable and high quality aircrete block that offers high thermal and sound insulation, lightness, strength and fire resistance. It is a building block made from a light material with a high proportion of air in its composition.
8 TA, Territorial Army, the UK’s part time reserve military.
9 NCSG, National Child Support Group, the umbrella organisation referred to elsewhere. In reality there is no official such group, though unofficial mechanisms based on the idea exist in the UK.
10 Snuff movie, a pornographic film or video recording of an actual murder.
11 On, euphemism mostly used by women to indicate menstruation.
12 Sǫgur, plural of the Old Norse word saga. A saga being that which is said or recited.
13 LGBTP, an alternative and becoming more widely used version of LGBT+.
14 Saoirse, pronounced seer sha, IPA siːrʃa: or siːrʃa.
15 Smithwick’s often pronounced Smitticks rather than Smithicks. IPA smitiks rather than smiðiks.
16 MCP, Male Chauvinist Pig.
17 CV, Curriculum Vitae, US résumé.
Comments
Another...
Marvelous chapter now in the growth of the village which is welcoming many who are"misfits"elsewhere, regardless of etnicity, colour and probably religion too, as long as they are an acceptable fit within the culture and spirit of the Bearthwaite folk and will be an asset and not a liability and make a contribution to the village ethos however large or small that might be.
Truly a lengthy read Eolwaen with many dropouts of the connexion probably due to continuing BCTS site problems. I notice this posting of GOMT 48 had had 12 reads when I began reading and 117 by the time that I finished.
Many thanks yet again for your amazing efforts with this great series Eolwaen.
Brit