A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 55 Just Three Longer Tales
A group of girls had decided to go berry picking up on the fells. A successful berry picking expedition was a lucrative activity for them, for Christine paid them well for the berries that would mostly be bottled under pressure usually with a spoonful of honey in the bottles. It was known to most that they were going on the next sunny day by which time the fells would have dried out sufficiently for the paths to afford safe footing if used carefully and accompanied by someone who had the necessary skills and experience. Also known was that the six younger girls had telt their boyfriends, brothers and male cousins they required none to accompany them for when Jannine and Michaela had heard the girls required two more members to ensure the entire available crop was harvested they had volunteered to lead the group. The twins were recognised by all as gey clever and experienced up on the tops where the berries were to be found. The much relieved lasses’ boyfriends and male relatives considered that the girls would be totally safe with the twins up there and had been grateful that their presences would not be required. Like most lads they were not at all interested in berry picking, for in the eyes of virtually all of them it was tedious and not even the money tempted them, for most of them would eat virtually all that they picked.
Unbeknownst to any, the eight girls had been followed by Aqil and Ishaq, the two most obnoxious supposedly ex Islamic boys, both of who were thirteen and had decidedly lewd intentions. That evening the girls returned with sixteen two and a half gallon [11⅓l, 25 US pint] berry pails full of berries, but the boys were never seen again. When subsequently questioned by the police concerning the boys, who had been reported as missing by their mothers once it had been dark for an hour, none had seen them for many hours. The emergency contact number that rang every mobile phone in the community had been used by their mothers and no one had any idea as to the whereabouts of the two boys and their phones were not responding. Even the trackers that were active on every phone even when switched off weren’t responding. The phones were as missing as the boys. A few of the children had seen the two boys early in the day, but like most of the children all eight girls had disclaimed any knowledge of the two boys truthfully saying they had not seen either since the day before at school. When asked by the police where they had collected the berries Ginny who was eleven had replied, “Up on the tops from the bushes on Soft Moss Green that grow on the firmer ground between the two sinkholes. Everyone knew that was where we were going. None go out of the village without letting the adults know all about it because that’s irresponsible and anyway you’d get into trouble. The Green is as dry at the moment as it ever becomes and the berries there are always big and plump which makes picking a decent amount much easier and quicker. Usually the berries are over ripe before the birds discover them, but once they find them they clear them all in a matter of an hour or two, so we were hoping that the birds hadn’t discovered them yet and they hadn’t, so we filled our pails in less than three hours. Despite the wind, which was blowing hard and gusty enough to mean we had to be really careful on the way up and down, it was nice up there, for the sun was shining and it was warm. One of the Shaw twins was leading and the other was at the back, and we were all roped together, so we knew we were all safe. The sun was still shining when we got back and delivered the berries to Christine’s kitchens at the Bobbin Mill.”
Soft Moss Green was an extremely dangerous place to any unfamiliar with that type of terrain. It was on Needle Fells to the south of the Bearthwaite valley and lay at an elevation of going on for fifteen hundred feet [450 metres] in a roughly two mile long by a mile wide area of flatter seeming ground between two of the taller steep pointed summits on the Needle Fells that gave them their name. Other than the collections of smaller rock spires and the odd solitary one, Soft Moss Green looked flat, it was so named after its bowling green like appearance, but the rock surface below the Green formed a pair of deep goblet like depressions that had been determined by geologists decades before to be six to seven hundred feet deep [200–250m] in their centres. The depressions contained swampy morasses comprising living vegetation that floated on the top of the hundreds of feet of dead and decaying matter. The contents of the depressions contained so much water even in the driest of weather that it was more reasonable to consider the contents to be heavily contaminated tarns(1) rather than exceedingly soft bogland. They required knowledge and skill to negotiate one’s way around, and only the millennia old slowly decomposing bracken crust below the current growth made moving around the edges of the Green at all possible and that was only in the driest parts of the year.
The necessary knowledge and skills to navigate such places as Soft Moss Green was something that every Bearthwaite child spent their entire childhood striving for, though some never acquired enough of either to be allowed up there unless they were in a small group led by someone who was known to have the necessary knowledge and skills. Because of the constant and plentiful water supply the berry bushes of half a dozen species that grew up there in a relatively drier area that lay between the two deadly sinkholes always produced prolific quantities of plump and tasty berries. It was a good place for women and girls to go aberrying, so it was no surprise to any that the girls had staked a claim to the berries months ago and had decided to take advantage of the recent dry weather and go there rather than elsewhere, and Jannine and Michaela, despite being relative newcomers to Bearthwaite were acknowledged experts at safely navigating that kind of terrain, for they’d had experience of such places in Cornwall whence they originated and were intelligent and observant enough to safely interpret the ground in front of them. The main thing expected of such as they was that they would if circumstances warranted it simply say to the group, “No. It’s not safe. We’re going back.” No Bearthwaite child would disobey such an order, even if issued by a much younger child, for their command authority was understood to be absolute and the penalties for disobedience were severe, though all were aware it was generations since they had been necessary.
Aqil and Ishaq had last been seen by a couple of dozen folk, mostly children but three adults too, on one of the narrow lonnings that the shepherds used to take flocks of sheep to and from the tops. It had rained heavily overnight after the boys’ disappearance and the police dogs taken to the place where the boys had last been seen couldn’t find any trace of the scent from the boys’ clothing out of the unwashed laundry they been provided with for the dogs to follow. The police had been escorted up the lonning and then on up the trail to the edge of Soft Moss Green by a pair of rangers, but when they’d wished to go further to follow the berry pickers’ route they’d been telt by Abigail, “No. ’Tain’t at all safe. You go if you wish, but we ain’t going with you and if you get into trouble you’re on your own. We ain’t risking our lives to assist some idiot who doesn’t know what they’re doing who ignored the advice of folk who do. It rained heavily last night and yonder spot will be a death trap for at least six weeks. Longer if it rains some more, as is a certainty. That’s why the girls went for the berries when they had the opportunity. By the time the path would be safe again after some rain the birds would have taken all the berries. In some years no berries get picked at all because the ground doesn’t dry up enough when the berries are ripe enough to pick. The dry spell we’d had had lasted long enough to make the spot safe enough if tret with caution by someone who understand such, like the Shaw girls, but ’t’ain’t sensible to assume that this spot is ever safe.
“The best we’re prepared to offer is to return and take you up the return trail to the far side of the Green which is nigh to two miles the other side of the outcrops here.” The police officers said nothing but groaned to themselves for the two rangers had set a punishing pace up to the Green and obviously regarded that as normal for they hadn’t even required a rest once up there. “You can’t see either end from t’other, and the berries are in a relatively drier spot between two bad ones, and you can’t see that spot from either end either.” That was done and the police took photographs from both ends of the Green and aerial video from a drone, none of which shewed anything unusual or of interest from their point of view. Even at the berry patch there was nothing to see, not even any evidence the girls had been there other than berry bushes with few berries on them, but if one didn’t know the girls had picked the berries that could have been done by birds. When asked about the total lack of evidence of their presence Abigail had looked scornfully at the officer who mentioned it and asked, “Do you shit in your own backyard?” A puzzled look caused her to add, “That’s how littering is seen by us. All of us, even the children. We never leave such behind us anywhere. The rule is at worst you leave a place exactly as you found it, and you clear up any mess you find that will have been left by tourists.” However, even without the photographs and the video none of the investigating officers considered the Green to be relevant, and in their minds they were just tidying up all loose ends, so as to avoid subsequent censure from their superiors. Sasha had asked that Abigail have photographs and drone footage taken too so that regardless of events Bearthwaite would have its own record. Abigail considered it to be amusing that the Bearthwaite equipment was absolutely top of the range and that the police were using technology at least a decade out of date.
The few Bearthwaite folk who bothered to think about the two missing boys and were intelligent and perceptive enough to work out what had happened knew that of the eight girls only Jannine and Michaela would have been aware of the boys self inflicted deaths, for the other girls were simply not of that mind set. The twins would have known that if it became known that they were taking a group of younger girls who were beginning to blossom aberrying without the benefit of male protection the two boys would of course follow them with intentions of sexual molestation, in the tween vernacular,(2) to cop a feel.(3) Too, the two boys, like all other Bearthwaite residents, were aware that Jannine was trans, and both had in the past been heard to say deeply offensive things to her in public and as bad if not worse when her name was mentioned in conversation when she was not present. All knew that they were still saying such things whenever opportunity presented itself to and about not just Jannine but also any who were in any way different, usually when they believed the only persons present who were there to hear them could be intimidated by them into not bearing witness. Jannine’s older boyfriend Finn, who was now big, strong and fit enough to accompany the rangers from time to time, was known to have delivered at least one serious beating to each of the boys, as had Black Theo, Michaela’s boyfriend who, despite his skinny appearance, was an apprentice blacksmith of immense strength.
However, neither Aqil nor Ishaq were overbright, and despite endless warnings from their mothers, other adults and many of the children, including their siblings, neither could see where their behaviour was taking them. They knew that it had already been decided, with their mothers’ approval, to put them out from the valley though they erroneously believed that as yet only a few adults were aware of that, and had expressed happiness that they would soon be leaving a place that encouraged such infamous behaviours as would warrant death in a civilised society such as Islam provided. Yalina, Aqil’s mother who was now married to Walt whom Aqil despised, had contacted her ex husband via her solicitor. Once Yalina’s pregnancy had become visible family life had become intolerable till Walt backhanded Aqil so hard he hit the wall as a result of what he had called his mother. It was clearly a shock to Aqil when Walt had told him that none could refer to his wife thus with impunity, for Aqil like a toddler had only ever perceived Yalina from his own egocentric perspective as his mother. That she had other rôles in different relationships too was beyond his ability to envisage. After that none knew where Aqil slept, for other than to eat he had never spent any time at home again which was a relief in many ways especially to his younger sisters four year old Jia and six year old Xyra who didn’t understand why their older brother was always so angry. Ali, Aqil’s father, had said that he would be happy to take Aqil back and his elder brothers were looking forward to his return. Ali was an intolerant man and occasionally a violent one, but other than placing Aqil into the care system it was the only solution for him that any had come up with.
However, NCSG had said Ishaq was not an appropriate child for them to become involved with, for they were no more prepared to deal with juvenile bigots than they were with adult bigots and Ishaq clearly was full of the misogynistic, chauvinistic hubris characteristic of what to NCSG were the most unacceptable kinds of adult male Muslim. Even the Muslins who worked for NCSG considered that to be self evident. Germain Cameron, née Beattie, the director of the local area Social Services who now lived at Bearthwaite with her husband Dougie, had advised Zuhr, Ishaq’s mother, that since Ishaq’s behaviour was now clearly beyond her ability to control and she’d said she was frightened of him because she believed that he would soon start hitting her and his four siblings he needed to be placed under the authority of a male whom he would not be able to intimidate. That Ishaq was abusive concerning her growing relationship with Ken, who he contemptuously referred to as an infidel and an abomination, meant Ken would never be able to be that male without constantly physically chastising the boy. She’d added that Zuhr’s safest and best option to protect herself and her other children and at the same time avoid potential legal accusations of abandonment would be to involve the local Social Services who would use their Islamic contacts with a view to fostering him to remove him from the family home in order to secure the safety of his siblings. Failing that it would be an orphanage, [group home].
Inaya Ishaq’s fifteen year old sister was pregnant with nineteen year old Victor’s baby and they were getting married the following month when she turned sixteen. Victor, who had already given Ishaq a serious beating for what he’d said to his sister concerning her relationship with him and her pregnancy, had told Zuhr that if Ishaq laid a hand on Inaya, brother in law or no, he’d make him wish he had died. Since Ishaq was now frightened of Victor it was at least a temporary solution to some of the issues Ishaq posed. Faizan Ishaq’s six year old brother was terrified of him, for Ishaq was forcing Faizan into his own mould of intolerance by beating him if he could not recite the verses of the Quran he’d written down for Faizan to learn. Ishaq’s two younger sisters, eight year old Tasqeen and ten year old Eqra, avoided him by associating with large groups of Bearthwaite children. Both had boys they held hands with, nine year old Andrew and twelve year old Angus respectively, and were afraid of what Ishaq would do to them when he found out about that.
Victor had mentioned the family’s problems concerning Ishaq in the taproom at the Dragon and unsurprisingly Alf’s view was “Drop the bastard down the old pack pony trail from the top to see if he bounces.”
There were a lot of men and boys who agreed with Alf and Auld Joey, a long retired shepherd had said in almost incomprehensible Cumbrian, made worse by him having not having his teeth in at the time, “Yon guidebook of Tommy’s says it’s fifteen hunert(4) foot, top to bottom. I reckon it’s little more than fourteen hunert and fifty, but surely that’s enough to do the trick.”
The route they’d taken as described by the eight girls was up the nearer sheep lonning till it had become no more than a sheep track as one by one half a dozen sheep and coney tracks had left it, each time leaving it narrower than before. They had taken the track that led upwards to Soft Moss Green. Once at the beginning of the Green they’d followed an anticlockwise almost semicircular route around the extreme right hand edge of the soft and deadly centre section of the first sinkhole that one encountered if one approached Soft Moss Green from the west as they had done. It required extreme care to navigate, but it was the familiar route known to all Bearthwaite folk who walked or worked the fells that took one from the top of the usually used track at the west end of the Green to the far side of the first sinkhole, for being drier it was considered to be safer, shorter and quicker than the clockwise route to the left hand edge of the sinkhole. The girls said they’d hurried around it, for they’d barely had to slow down to gather the few berries there, and they had been eager to reach the bushes that were usually covered in plump berries several hundred yards [metres] on the far side of the softer area where the footing was somewhat firmer and it was no longer necessary to watch so carefully what every footstep one took was alighting upon. A pair of smaller spire like needles prevented the berry bushes from being seen from the far side of the sinkhole that the girls had just carefully worked their way around.
The girls had said that after filling their pails they’d tarried maybe a quarter of an hour to watch a pair of peregrines hunting wood pigeons. When the falcons had flown off with their prey the girls had watched for another couple of minutes which way they flew in an attempt to work out which nesting pair they’d seen hunting to feed their chicks, and after that they’d stayed maybe five minutes more when Grace Kerr had wanted to know what the orange marked creatures were that she’d spotted hunting and eating woodlice. Erikka had telt her that they were some of the efts(5) that lived up there and they could usually be seen in amongst the damp leaf litter and dead bracken below the stunted birch, juniper and Scots pine trees that grew up there. They’d talked about the efts on the way down and Erikka had said they were a bit smaller than the ones that lived in and around the waters in the valley. She’d added that unlike their lower elevation cousins it was difficult to ever tell the males and females apart, for in the breeding season the valley males had a more pronounced crest along their backs and a white flash on their tails whilst females had a yellow or orange one.
They’d not retraced their steps to return home, but as usual continued onwards to skirt the other smaller sinkhole on the eastern side of the berry bushes and then had continued on to the east of the Green to use a path that took them down to the village, but father away from it than where their upward path started. Their descent was steeper and shorter than their ascent, but being straighter with better footing it was easier to use when carrying a pail full of berries in each hand, and it didn’t require them to navigate around the more treacherous of the two sinkholes again when carrying the by then full, lidded pails which made it more difficult to watch one’s footing than when they were empty. They had used the ascent and descent routes that virtually all who went up to Soft Moss Green for any reason chose to use. All the time, including the time spent going up and coming back down again, that they’d spent on the fell they’d neither seen nor heard any else than the eight of them. They’d said they were so surprised that they not even heard a distant shepherd whistling his dogs that they remarked upon it, but believed that was due to the wind, for normally up there one could hear shepherds’ whistles that were miles away on other fells.
The girls had been pleased with themselves, for the forty gallons of berries they had gathered was as much as the Soft Moss Green berry patch ever produced. They had near enough harvested all that there were to be harvested, and it would be unlikely that another opportunity would arise this year to pick any that they had left, for rain was predicted overnight. The few remaining berries on Soft Moss Fell were as yet mostly unripe, but the girls were aware that they had properly left more than enough to set seed both up on the tops somewhere and elsewhere too courtesy of the birds. The berrying season was not over for there were other berries still to pick that ripened later in the year in places nowhere near as hazardous though rarely as productive. The eight girls were already planning their next foray with a dozen other girls too, which was to be on the far side of the lower reach of the Bearthwaite Beck. The Blåbär(6) to be found there were plentiful and bigger than in most places due to the water coming off the Flat Top Fell. However, like all worth having it had a price. Where the berries were to be found was on the far side of the dangerous giant hogweed(7) that now grew alongside the beck edge which meant a considerable detour to get behind where the hogweed grew. Some of the BEE’s(8) grounds men had offered to scythe a path through for them, but the girls had decided they’d rather walk the extra couple of miles in total safety and not have to wear protective clothing in the hot weather, and anyway the hogweed was a hugely impressive sight that was enjoyed by the visitors and it didn’t seem right to violate it merely to pick some berries. According to some of the visitors who knew about gardening it was described as an architectural plant and had been introduced into the UK from the Caucasus Mountains and Central Asia as an ornamental garden plant for those who had estates rather than what most would consider to be a garden in eighteen seventeen. It had subsequently escaped and naturalised in the wild. It was first reported in the wild in the UK in eighteen twenty-eight in Cambridgeshire.
The police had not been happy that a group of girls so young had been allowed to engage in what they considered to be such a hazardous activity, to wit berry picking at serious altitude next to such deadly swamps, with not even the minimum of adult supervision. They were closed down and shamed when Adalheidis had said, “That’s as may be, but our children don’t have to exist in an environment where homicidal maniacs like Derrick Bird(9) who shot twelve folk dead and injured the same again exist, nor do they have to contend with idiots in cars driving like lunatics, some of who suffer from lethal road rage for no reason whatsoever other than that they are insane members of an insane society. On average some three hundred and five kids a year are killed or seriously injured due to road traffic accidents in the north west of England alone, and I’m quoting official police and government statistics. It is a matter of record that no child of ours(10) has ever died here in our entire recorded history other than by natural causes. Can any of you say the same concerning the insane asylums where you live?
“I suggest you tek the baulks(11) out of your own eyes before bitching(12) about the spelks(13) in ours.(14) And whilst I’m having a rant, the last time any member of the Bearthwaite folk was convicted of a crime he was hanged. For poaching a bloody coney to feed his starving kids with,(15) which was made possible by toadies and flunkies like you bastards supporting the aristocracy by being their paid thugs. Some would claim you’re still doing that. And you wonder why Bearthwaite folk have nay time for you lot nor your masters! The answer is simple we are our own masters and live on the rewards of our own endeavours. You are no more than servants who live on the leavings of your masters. What they leave you after they have taken what they will of what you have worked hard for whilst they did nothing. I’ll leave you to work out the connection between that and why the quality of our lives is so much better than yours, and our children have a zero criminality rate too.” The officers were angry but there was little they could do about it for Adalheidis was merely reciting unpalatable truths and she could certainly not be accused in any way of hampering their enquiries or perverting the course of justice. She had gone out of her way to assist them, but it was clear that if they upset her any more that assistance would stop and they knew that assistance from all the residents of the valley would cease too, as would probably their invitation to be there.
As Sergeant Michael Graham, who was Bearthwaite born and bred, had said, “You are all here by invitation. Other than by invitation you have no right to be here without a warrant, which at this point you will no longer be able to obtain, for you have no evidence to put in front of a magistrate to suggest that the boys are still here nor that any here know anything concerning the whereabouts of either of them. You do know they had said they were glad to be leaving. You also know that Aqil had been so seriously beaten by his father in the past that the Social workers were concerned about him returning to live with his father. It’s possible he was unwilling to return to his father. Equally possible is that Ishaq was unwilling to risk going to foster parents or to an orphanage. I’m not suggesting either is the case, but you can’t say with certainty that either is not the case. I said you not we because I’ve been telt to keep my mouth shut and not get involved. I suggest if you wish to remain here to investigate the matter with the consent of the residents you keep your mouths shut as to the way that folk live here. It is purely our business and it is certainly not your place to make value judgements about it. You are police officers not social evangelists, nor are you in possession of some kind of superior moral authority, so I suggest you stay within the remit of your jobs, or you will be asked to leave. Should that happen and you don’t leave the solicitors here will charge you with wilful criminal trespass and they will have cast iron video evidence.”
If the boys had been keeping their distance, so as to avoid being seen by the girls till the last minute, the girls would have reached the far side of the green vegetation covered sinkhole before the boys had seen them trace their route around its edge. The boys not seeing the girls in the far distance due to the berry bushes being behind the rock spires would have hurried to catch up with them. Ignorant of such places and of Soft Moss Green in particular they would have tried to run straight across the morass that would have swallowed them and their phones almost instantly and the girls would neither have seen them, due to being focussed on the berries and having no line of sight, nor heard them, due to the wind. Without doubt the boys would not be seen again for centuries, maybe millennia, if ever. There were old tales of folk being taken by the sinkholes centuries ago. None knew if they were true, but they seemed highly plausible and most Bearthwaite folk believed that there were at least some decomposing bodies at the bottom of Soft Moss Green’s two death traps, but it was something that none ever spoke of in front of outsiders. None in Bearthwaite who could work out the likely events and their probable cause spoke of the matter. All Bearthwaite residents knew that after the horrendous experiences of their early childhoods Jannine and Michaela were experts at hiding their thoughts and emotions should they chose so to do, and they were also mistresses of schooling their facial expressions to convey whatever emotion they chose.
Both highly intelligent, the girls would never speak of the matter for there was no matter to speak of. There was no way that the girls could be described as the architects of the affair for in truth they had done nothing, seen nothing, heard nothing and knew nothing, and thought the two boys had been seen right at the bottom of the sheep lonning no more than a few metres [yards] away from Bearthwaite lonning none had seen them go up the fells from there. The girls could never give themselves away, for as far as they were aware nothing had happened. All they had done was the kindly deed of volunteering to look after a group of younger girls who required another pair of berry pickers when they went aberrying thus rendering an experienced, older, male escort unnecessary. All Bearthwaite knew, though kind and generous to all, unsurprisingly both girls had a steel hard unforgiving nature towards intolerance, prejudice and bigotry. As such they were considered by those who understood such things to be like Harwell Stevison, the head ranger, valuable assets to Bearthwaite, but not ones ever to be acknowledged never mind discussed. Gee and Sam Shaw, the girls’ parents, merely smiled at each other, for some things were best never put into words to any. Ever. There was even a globally used expression to describe such things these days, plausible deniability. There were a goodly few who knew what had happened without requiring any evidence simply because they understood human nature, but none of them would ever say a word about the matter.
The police other than knowing the boys had last been seen on the edge of Bearthwaite Lonning on one of the sheep lonnings just outside the village had nothing to work with. It was as yet a missing persons enquiry, certainly not a kidnap enquiry, and kids dropped off the radar regularly everywhere, so there were limited resources allocated to the matter. All questioned had been with some one else who told the same story. None had anything to hide, for they didn’t know anything, and had neither seen nor heard anything, not even rumours. It had been suggested by a couple of younger children that maybe the boys had followed the girls that had gone aberrying for some reason because the girls would most likely have used that particular sheep lonning to get to Soft Moss Green, for it was the best choice to go there and most who went there used it to ascend. The police had asked why anyone went there other than to pick the annual berry crop. Mostly, they’d been telt, it would be folk walking for pleasure and observing the raptors and ravens. When questioned, though they admitted to using that particular lonning, none of the eight girls had seen the missing boys, nor heard anything on their walk that could be attributed to humans.
The eight girls had said it made no sense for the boys to have followed them, for it was well known that all of them had boyfriends and it wasn’t polite to even suggest that they may be interested in anyone else and the boys certainly weren’t interested in wildlife of any kind. The police had been surprised that the youngest of the girls had boyfriends and had started to ask questions concerning that, but Adalheidis and Germain Cameron, who had been present at all of the children’s interviews as well as at least one of each of the child’s parents for the individual interviews, had warned them to drop that line of questioning if they didn’t wish the matter to be pursued via the official complaints procedure. When in an effort to keep the girls talking during a combined interview of all eight girls and thus perhaps provide them with greater insight into possible events it had been suggested by a female officer that the boys had maybe wished to pick berries too. The officers had been taken aback by the girls’ reactions. The girls had stared incredulously and nine year old Ɖelmara(16) had asked, “Are you being serious? Boys picking berries‽” as the others became incoherent due to their laughter.
The police had discovered that Aqil and Ishaq were disliked, unintelligent bullies of thuggish dispositions who were considered to be obscene and prurient sex pests by the girls and had been beaten up for their actions by some of the girls’ brothers and boyfriends in the past. Both of the boys’ mothers had been open about their sons’ behaviour, their consequent planned expulsions from Bearthwaite and their plans for the boys’ futures. Yalina had telt them days before that Aqil’s father, her ex husband Ali, had agreed to take Aqil, and it had been arranged that Aqil would be taken to his fathers home next Saturday morning by Social workers from the local social Services, which Germain Cameron as their boss had confirmed. Ali told the police he hadn’t seen Aqil since he’d left with his mother and younger siblings. Ishaq’s father was believed to have been a terrorist who had died several years before in fighting somewhere in Afghanistan. The Islamic organisation that Social Services had contacted concerning Ishaq on behalf of Zuhr his mother had told the police they had agreed to assist Social workers to find foster parents for Ishaq, but they were still talking to adults to discover who would be most appropriate. The police were baffled as to why the boys whose futures had been assured would voluntarily disappear since they clearly did not like living at Bearthwaite where they were disliked and there was nothing to suggest that they had somewhere to go other than where had been arranged for them. Too, it didn’t make sense to them that anyone at Bearthwaite would do anything to them when so much effort had been put in to organising their imminent departures and futures.
The police were aware of what Aqil and Ishaq had done in the past and its consequences for them, but no one had been anywhere near Aqil and Ishaq when they were last seen and the whereabouts at the time of their disappearance of all the Bearthwaite boys who’d previously taken issue with them for their behaviour towards the girls had been confirmed to be nowhere near the sheep lonning going up to Soft Moss Green. The police could have possibly made further progress in their investigations had they known what type of questions to ask, unlikely but possible, but the only officer who would have been aware of that, Sergeant Michael Graham, was from Bearthwaite and lived there. Michael was considered by the powers that be to be an interested party and as such had been told to stay away from any involvement in the investigation and to keep his mouth shut. That suited him, so he complied. It was a repeat of the incident on the fell tops when two armed anti veal raisers had been found dead from hypothermia(17) up there. Michael had a pretty clear notion of what had happened to the two boys even down to most of the detail, but no crime had been committed other than intended sexual assault. Jannine and Michaela certainly could not be accused of enticement, for in no way by word, suggestion or look had they led the boys on or encouraged them to follow the girls. Michael considered the twins to be more than intelligent enough to know that they wouldn’t need to do or say anything to ensure the boys followed them, and in any case he considered the matter of the two boys had been brought to a satisfactory conclusion with minimal effort and cost, to Bearthwaite folk at least.
Some of the older ex Islamic Bearthwaite boys, none of who was more than just turned twelve, thought about the matter long and hard and discussed it secretly. None of them had hit puberty when they’d moved to Bearthwaite though a number were now on kissing terms with long established Bearthwaite girls and some with ex Islamic Bearthwaite girls, which they knew all their mothers as well as all other Bearthwaite adults approved of because they saw it as the boys integrating. A number of their mothers had married local men, all in Bearthwaite church. The boys were now all far more Bearthwaite than they’d ever been Islamic, for they’d been too young to understand never mind absorb it’s hard line core values that their grateful mothers had been provided with an escaped from. Nine, nearly ten, year old Zain, perhaps the brightest of them had said, “I don’t remember my father. Mum won’t talk about him, and my sisters say he hit Mum a lot. I don’t actually know if he is still alive, but it doesn’t matter because Jamila said that the last thing he did before he left was divorce Mum. She said that that repudiated us and made us all illegitimate. None of us are interested in a father who would do that to us.
“Nobody has hit us here, nobody has even shouted at us when we didn’t understand how things worked here. They explained so we didn’t make the same mistakes again. I’ve never been hungry, nor cold, nor dressed in rags here, not like in that other spot where we were before. Erikka’s mum and dad say I am always welcome in their home. They’ve both seen Erikka and me kissing and only smiled at us. I really like going to school here, at least I understand what they are teaching me here, not like before. School is really good here because of the games and other stuff that’re actually fun. Even hard lessons can be kind of fun here. Kamari is in the next to top class and he telt me that he’s learning loads of really good stuff and he’s been telt that if he keeps it up the school will pay for him to go to university to study to be a vet. I saw him kissing with Morton last week. Morton’s eighteen and he raises fish and grows trees. I know a load of grown ups here saw them too, but no one was bothered. I reckon they’d have been killed for that where we were before. Taial would definitely have been killed for wearing girls’ clothes and being just like a girl, but if you didn’t know she used to be a boy you’d never know, if you get what I mean, but she’s cool and kind just like a nice girl, and my sisters are all friends with her. Lyndsay, who is a super cool guy, likes her enough to kiss her. I don’t get it but there are lots of kids like that here and nobody bothers, which when you think about it is how it should be. They’re not hurting anyone, so why should anyone be bothered? Bearthwaite is a good place. Erica says that if you don’t hurt anyone here no one here will hurt you.
“Erikka is nice and makes me feel special. I like that because nobody ever made me feel like I was special that way before. Mum loves us, but she’s our mum. Don’t get me wrong I really love Mum, we all do, and we know we’d all have died but for her giving us her food where we were before, but she loves us the way we love her. It’s family love and that’s a different kind of special, not less special, but a different special. Erikka’s siblings and friends, girls and boys, like me, and we enjoy playing all sort of things together. Spending time at the Model Railway Society in the Old Bobbin Mill is fun, and I’m learning a lot there too. Mum spends a lot of time with Herbert, he spends the night with her sometimes, and I hope he asks her to marry him. He helps me with my homework, and I like going to work with him. He’s teaching me to use a lathe at his work and at the mill which is super cool, and he’s going to teach me how to use the milling machine there too next week. He said he’ll take me duck shooting when the weather is a bit better. Mum says she knows some really excellent duck receipts, so we’re all looking forward to that. He’s a really kind man and I’d really like him to be my dad.
“Aqil and Ishaq were idiots who, no matter what anybody telt them, just couldn’t accept that they weren’t in the camps run by the imams any more and that this was a different place where the folks who ran the spot made different rules and didn’t care what they thought. They never stopped criticising the way folk here talk, as if they were experts on English. I listen hard and I’m trying to talk the way everyone else does, so as soon as possible no one will be able to tell I wasn’t born here. I like it here and I want to fit in. This is a place with it’s own rules that the folk here have lived with for thousands of years and they weren’t going to change for a pair of stupid kids like Aqil and Ishaq. They didn’t get it that if they didn’t live by the rules here they’d get chucked out. Maybe that’s what happened to them, but I can’t see that because why were all the police here for nearly a week. They never stopped complaining about things, but they never tried to do anything about them. It was disgusting what they said about the girls and worse what they tried to do to them. They tried to pull my sisters’ knickers down too, but Herbert heard the girls crying, stopped them and promised to use his belt on them if he heard that they tried to do anything like that ever again to any girl. Because they were upset Herbert hugged and kissed my sisters just like a proper dad would, and Marzia said it was nice having a man looking after them like they were his own girls because it felt safe. Even after Theo and Finn beat the crap out of them, and said next time they’d turn them into wethers, that’s sheep with their balls cut off, they didn’t change the way they behaved or what they said. It was evil what they said to Jannine and she’s really nice.
“It wasn’t just girls they were bad to. They bullied all the boys smaller than them too and that included a lot of us, because they were both big and strong. It’s no wonder nobody liked them and it was all their own faults. What they said about being picked on being due to racism was rubbish. It was nothing to do with racism. It was because they were nasty to everyone. When they said all those nasty things to Jannine in front of dozens of us at school and Finn beat them both up he said they were just a pair of nasty minded, evil, little cunts. When he said they should note that he hadn’t called them a pair of nasty minded, evil, little, nigger cunts because that wasn’t nice or proper I, and all the others there, girls as well as boys, nearly wet myself laughing. Nobody says racist things to me nor any of us. Why they were angry about not being allowed to wear a turban I don’t know. I’m really glad I don’t have to be bothered with one any more. I thought it was really funny when Uncle Alf said if they wore one he’d shave all their hair off and dye their heads and faces bright green with a dye that would take months to grow off because it was wash proof.
“I don’t know what happened to them, but I do hope they aren’t going to return. Even their mums were sick of their constant complaints, their refusal to help with anything in the house and their arrogance. They wouldn’t even help with things that are almost exclusively men’s and boys’ things here like dealing with wood and brash blocks for the fire and taking the ashes out for the allotment growers to collect. Erikka’ brother Ron, he’s twelve and goes out with Brigitte from the Green Dragon, she’s Peter’s sister, said that they had a long road to walk before they became anywhere near to manhood and that he couldn’t see them ever reaching it the way they were going on. Ages ago he said that any who treats their mums the way they do was destined to be chucked out of Bearthwaite because if they tret their mum that way they’d treat other folks worse, so they weren’t Bearthwaite folk and would have to leave. Ron’s big and strong, but I reckon Peter is far more dangerous. The kids who do martial arts say he’s scary because you don’t expect him to be so good because he’s so small. They also say that him being born a girl makes no difference at all and he’s dangerous to wind up.(18)
“Peter said that if either of them hurt Brigitte between them he and Ron would turn the pair of them into minced meat and feed it to the pigs. I reckon that really scared the crap out of them because neither of them ever went near Ron nor Peter again. Ron said they were just a pair of loud mouthed gobshites.(19) Peter said Islam made the stupid vulnerable because they were so easy to condition. I think that’s the same as brainwashing. He said only a Muslim would consider being fed to pigs to be a worse death than any other. ‘Study your enemy. Find his vulnerabilities and exploit them,’ was what he said. Mind you they say he’s the cleverest kid at Bearthwaite and is the mastermind behind all the amazing things at the Model Railway Society. You should take a look at those bridges that swing over that big canal to let ships through. One is a road bridge, but the other is a canal bridge with real water in it just like the big canal below it. I’ve never heard of a model railway layout that uses real water. They all use resin to look like water, but on his stuff you can see the waves that the ships make as they move in the water. It’s absolutely brilliant.
“I don’t know why Ishaq and Aqil thought they were better than the rest of us, especially than the girls, when they were so bad at school stuff. Most eight year olds could read and write far better than Ishaq and his spelling was a joke, and Aqil could barely add simple numbers together and didn’t even know his three times tables. When Black Theo said Ishaq didn’t know the difference between spelling his own name and Allah and couldn’t spell either the same way twice and Aqil was so bad at arithmetic that he couldn’t count his balls and get the same answer twice, so maybe he didn’t have any and was just guessing, they really lost it and tried to attack him. He left them both semi conscious in a matter of a few seconds. I think he only hit Ishaq once and Aqil twice, but he was so fast I couldn’t be certain of that and I was only a few feet away. Mind he goes out with Michaela who is Jannine’s sister, so he probably was itching to hurt them and they were stupid enough to let him wind them up to the point where they lost what little sense they ever had. Them throwing the first punches, neither of which got anywhere near Theo, gave him the excuse knock shit out of them knowing the grown ups wouldn’t do anything because he didn’t start it. How thick(20) is that‽ Theo is an apprentice blacksmith and he may be skinny, but have you seen the muscles on his arms? According to Ishaq and Aqil their stupidity was their teachers’ faults for not teaching them properly. I mean is that funny or what‽
“Erikka’s big sister, Svetlana, is thirteen and she’s been going out with Threlkeld who’s fourteen since she was eight. She said that the proof that Ishaq and Aqil were so bad and unpleasant was given by the fact that there wasn’t a single Bearthwaite girl who had ever been in the least bit interested in either of them despite them both being rather good looking. She thinks that a lot of their worst behaviour particularly to girls was due to jealousy not Islam. She said any boy and girl who had a relationship that involved kissing would naturally sooner or later become more intimate. She didn’t say it, but it was obvious that she meant they’d both cop a feel and enjoy it and there would be no need for, nor indeed any thought of, any pressure. I never thought about Ishaq and Aqil being good looking. I suppose only girls would think about that sort of thing, but I think she was probably right about the jealousy thing. I asked her what it was in boys that was most important to girls and straight off the bat without even thinking about it she replied that it was kindness. For sure that would explain a lot because kindness wasn’t something either of that pair of fools knew anything about.
“When I telt Erikka that I was worried that whatever had happened to them may happen to me, she said that bad things only happen to bad folk here and I was safe because I wasn’t bad. None of we boys are bad. We do our best to help and she said we’d all be be perfectly safe because we’re becoming Bearthwaite lads. I’m trying not to use the words girls and boys and use lasses and lads like they all do here, but I keep forgetting. I always deal with the wood, the brash blocks and the ashes in our house. It doesn’t take me long if I do a half hour or so every day before school. As soon as she gets up Mum puts more fuel on the stove for heat, cooking and hot water. It doesn’t take long to get going because it never burns out completely and she cooks breakfast for us on it. Before we go to school my big sisters have washed up all the breakfast things and I’ve brought in the day’s supply of fuel from the store and taken the cold ashes out to where they are collected from. It’s the proper thing for boys, I mean lads, to do here, and I know Herbert thinks well of me for doing it, and Mum and my sisters do too. My sisters and Mum do all the cooking, washing and housework too, and Mum says it’s not so different here from where she grew up before the civil wars made everyone hungry and homeless.
“Mum believes men and women are different and in a just and fair society those differences are respected and that Bearthwaite is such a society. She says the way folk outside Bearthwaite try to make men and women the same and the so called equality they pursue is nonsense because it’s based on lies, the biggest one is that men and women are the same. She’s all for men and women having the same opportunities, but says that does not mean you should expect equal outcomes, whatever that means. Maybe I’ll understand her one day, but I kind of doubt it because she’s clever. She’s fluent in loads of Asian(21) languages and English and French too. She’s helping some of the other Asian women to speak better English at the special classes at the school. My sisters love it here, mind that’s probably because they’ve already got wedding plans which is wild at their age. I know Jamila is nearly fourteen, but Marzia is only just turned eleven, but she’s always been the same, whatever Jamila has or wants Marzia wants it too. Both of them think Herbert is a brilliant dad. They call him Dad and he doesn’t seem to mind, but they’re girls and I’m not sure it would be okay for me to call him Dad till he marries Mum. I know he and Mum sleep together, and I’m old enough to know what that means, but they aren’t married yet, though Jamila says it’s only a matter of time before we have a baby sister or brother. Jamila and Marzia want a baby sister, but I’d prefer a baby brother.
“Whatever, I love it here too, and I don’t miss any of that crazy quran stuff, cos I never got what it was going on about anyway. I’d far rather read the comics that are printed here. I was given some the other day that are printed with the words in High Fell which is the language that the shepherds speak. I’ve decided to learn it. There’s talk of it being taught at school probably as an evening class or on Saturdays. I reckon that it’ll be far more useful here than Arabic. Mum says that our ancestors were shepherds and goatherds in the mountains not so long ago and it was an honourable thing to do and highly regarded, so I’m thinking about becoming a shepherd when I finish school. Nobody keeps large flocks of goats here, so I think I’d like to try goats rather than sheep. Uncle Harmon who is a shepherd said that there are only a few goats kept here by Marigold Armstrong and their milk is used for yogurt. He says that a herd of milch goats would be worth keeping and if the milk were used for cheese I’d be able to make a reasonable living off them. He’s going to help me to make a start and said that I need a pup to start training, so that by the time I was ready to start I’d have three or four trained dogs for when the time came. Milch goats are ones kept mostly for milk and not meat. He said it would be easy to feed them on the rough pasture on the lower fell sides during the day for most of the year and bring them down to one of the farms where he has family for milking. He thinks we could get some milch sheep too as a bit of insurance. We’re going to look at some pups in a fortnight when they’ll be old enough to have some character. I’m not sure exactly what that means yet, but I’m sure I’ll learn that eventually. He said if I was prepared to give up schooling I could start at fourteen or so. I’m not sure about that because I’d like to do my GCSEs at sixteen. Not because they’d do me any good, but just to prove to myself I could do it and I wasn’t copping out because I was afraid I’d fail. Mind I could do evening classes for them like a lot of the apprentices do.”
The others thought about what Zain had said and came to the conclusion that he was right regarding everything he’d said, especially regarding the missing boys who had made their lives a misery. They all knew that for Zain whatever Erikka said was how it was, and though they sometimes grew a little tired of hearing ‘Erikka says’ it had never been wrong, Though Zain was younger than they, his attitudes and behaviour had made eleven year old Erikka decide she wanted to kiss him. Erikka was pretty and undergoing some interesting changes and they envied him for having a relationship with her and being able to be physically close to her. They wondered just what Zain and Erikka’s relationship involved, but once Zain started blushing when Erikka’s name was mentioned they became certain the couple had started to share physical intimacy and that was something their minds found difficult to put to one side. That their physical closeness was not only with Erikka’s consent, but she became upset if Zain didn’t initiate their shared proximity roughly half of the time had opened their minds to question exactly how girl boy interactions operated. Certainly girls were not the passive recipients of male attentions that they had been led to believe they were. It was when they noticed that in many couples of all ages, from the extremely aged down to the primary school kids who held hands and kissed, the female member of the twosome was clearly the more dominant partner and the male involved was equally clearly happy with that and no less well regarded by other males that they began to question what masculinity itself was all about.
Zain thought back to his first mathematics lesson at Bearthwaite. When Hayley Claverton their mathematics teacher, who usually taught upper school chemistry, had announced at the beginning of their first lesson, “I am Mrs Claverton, but I have a lot of your names to learn so you’ll have to be patient with me right?” After a chorus of, ‘Yes, Mrs Claverton’, Haley resumed, “I see we have some couples here. That is fine, and I have no intention of separating you. I also have no intention of preventing you from holding hands or mildly expressing you affection for each other from time to time. However, we are here to learn mathematics and that is our, by which I mean my and your, priority. I have rather adult expectations of you which is why you have rather adult privileges. Please do not let me or yourselves down. For those of you who are new to the Bearthwaite Educational Establishment, all of the teachers here will run their classrooms in more or less the same way that I do. Let us be clear, this is your education we are dealing with here, not mine. I did mine many years ago, long before you were born, so you need to do your best, not for me, but for yourselves. I shall do my best to help to make it as enjoyable as possible. Not all will be easy, but little that is worth having is easy. Okay, now to work. Algebra is the name of the game today.”
After the groans faded, Hayley asked, “If three teas and four coffees cost seven pounds and three teas and five coffees cost eight pounds how much is first of all a coffee? and then how much is a tea?” After observing the shower of hands reaching for the sky, Hayley said, “I see that algebra is not as difficult as you thought it may be.” Without taking any answers she wrote upon a white board ‘3T+4C=7’ and underneath it ‘3T+5C=8’ “That is algebra, it is simply an easy way of writing down the facts, so that you don’t forget them, and I’m sure you all agree it is faster to do that rather than listening to a long involved story first and then struggling to remember it all. That was the hardest one we shall solve today. Try this one. A cake and a tea cost two pound thirty. If the cake cost one pound twenty how much was the tea? I’ll write it on the board for you to copy into your books.” She wrote ‘1·20+T=2·30’ Whilst her class did that she wrote an intranet(22) address on the board for the children to access the lesson’s work. Most of the class were used to using the intranet and on seeing the board just moved on without questions. The mechanism provided an easy way for teachers to present work, an easy way for children to do their work and get instant feedback. No marking [US grading] was required of the teacher who had a cumulative picture of how each child was progressing and if needed could look at a child’s work in detail to find specific problems and offer differentiated assistance.
Initially the the children’s work involved situations set out in words. First they had to turn the words into a reminder in symbols, them they had to solve the puzzle. None were difficult and all were aimed at establishing confidence. Only the last few were initially set out in symbols, but the entire class finished the lesson’s work. Once finished the reward was to play whatever games they desired on their phones or the deliberately more exciting ones on the intranet. The object of which was to prevent them becoming addicted to their phones. It worked. “Your last mathematics lesson of the week will be on Friday morning. You will be working with some of the little ones testing their times tables knowledge. You will not be allowed to use your phones nor any other aid, so you have to know what ever you are testing. If you are only confident up to the six times table you will be working with younger children than someone who is confident up to the twelve times. Here’s a trick for you take away with you. The hardest times table for most of you is seven eights. The trick goes you count five, six, seven, eight, and say fifty-six is seven eights. Now you try it. I’ve telt you this now so you can brush up on your skills if need be. Okay that’s it. I believe you now have meteorology with Mr Williams. Off you go. He’ll be expecting you to be on time.”
Zain had said to Meadow whom he shared a desk with, “That was a lot easier than I thought it would be.”
Meadow had replied, “Yeah, but all our teachers here are really good. Where I went to school before in Sheffield all the maths teachers were men and they all had a real downer on girls. Like it was below them teaching us. I wouldn’t have minded so much if any of them had been any good as teachers. I used to hate maths, but it’s really good here. I’ve not long been here. My mother just disappeared on me and I ended up on the streets in Sheffield for a couple of months. I lost out on a lot of school then, but I reckon I’ve caught up now. I was rescued off the streets by the Bearthwaite rangers like my two sisters and two brothers. My other sister Saoirse and Mum are Irish and Dad is Bangladeshi. Mrs Claverton mostly teaches A’ level chemistry to the top two classes, but she says she likes teaching us as a bit of a challenge to stop her getting bored and stale. She’s nice. I know you’re going out with Erikka. I’m with Ægir. He’s twelve. It must be really good to be in the same class as your boyfriend, or girlfriend like some of the kids in our class.”
Zain grinned and replied, “I’m not so sure about that. We like each other, but aren’t interested in each other that way which means we can focus on the work. I’m not sure I could do that sitting next to Erikka. How about you sitting next to Ægir?”
Meadow blushed and replied, “You’re probably right. We’re kind of getting ready to move on to the next stage, so we tend to be a bit obsessed with each other at the moment, if you know what I mean?”
“Yeah. I know exactly what you mean. I suspect it’s worse for lads when lasses start to develop as they grow up. That’s why most of the girls who’re sitting next to their boyfriends are wearing culottes(23) not skirts.”
“Gosh, I never thought about that, but you’re right. Is that that important to boys? Seriously?”
“Pretty much. It’s not in any way disrespectful, or not with decent boys it’s not, but it is the way we are. All of us. The only exceptions are the girls like Taial and possibly the gays like Kamari though maybe not.”
“Actually, Zain, I think the truth is lasses are not much different. The ones with brothers round their own age are reckoned to be lucky because most have at least seen what a boy looks like undressed. Baby brothers don’t count because most girls have changed a baby boy’s nappy even if it were a friend’s baby brother and it’s not the same. It’s just a baby and apart from the risk with a baby boy of getting soaked when they wee it’s not really any different from changing a baby girl. Mostly we just pretend not to be interested and even though Taial is trans she’s just like the rest of us. As for Kamari I’ve only ever talked to him a few times, mostly just to say good morning to, but he seems to be just as interested in Morton as any girl would be. Changing the subject a little bit, Ægir and I are planning on a walk round the golf course right up to the valley head at the pack pony ravine and back down on the other side of the reservoir sometime. I think we’ve probably been putting it off in case things get too intense, but it would be good if you and Erikka came with us. What do you think?”
“Yeah I fancy that and I’m sure Erikka will too. We could keep a check on each other. Good idea.
The couples had enjoyed the walk and had separated for a brief while. All four were somewhat flushed when they rejoined, but had decided to spend more time with each other.
That Erikka’s family accepted Zain meant he was rapidly becoming a Bearthwaite boy in a way that the other boys decided they wanted to be too. That he’d some idea of what he wanted to do as an adult for a living, which was something they’d all been bothered by, was something they envied too. Not all of them had come from the refugee camps. Some of them had been born in and grown up in large UK cities where everything was very different from the rural Bearthwaite environment. Then as a result of domestic violence they’d ended up with their mums and siblings in refuges for abused and battered women and their children, but, despite their familiarity with the UK, Bearthwaite was no less alien to them than it was for the refugees from the camps who’d not long arrived in the UK. However, it wasn’t long before they all had had tentative ideas about careers that were well regarded at their new home. Soon they too had girlfriends who’d decided they were worth kissing and they all realised that being a boy desired by a girl made life very different. It banished most of their ridiculous fantasies about girls, and kissing one certainly took a lot of pressure out of their lives enabling them to focus on other things too. The intense obsession most of them had about copping a feel receded, for they knew it would happen when it was appropriate and that their girlfriends would encourage them to take that somewhat scary step when they were ready for the next stage of womanhood. They didn’t realise it but they had become Bearthwaite lads.
Twelve year old Наташа Охлопкова,(24) Natasha Okhlopkova, was an only child who’d lost her parents when they’d been caught up in a miners’ demonstration concerning lack of food in Yakutsk in east Siberia. The police had been brutal in putting the demonstration down and hundreds had died. It was not safe there for a girl of her age with no relatives, and a kindly, politically aware woman who knew Elle from decades before contacted her with a view to finding Natasha a safe home. It took several weeks and a lot of money changed hands to ensure that Natasha ended up in Bearthwaite. A spoilt child used to getting all her own way from busy parents who’d found it easier to just give her whatever she wanted it had never occurred to her that life could be any different. Till that was she’d had her clothes ripped off her by some drunk young miners who’d intended to gang rape her. She’d been saved from that fate by one of the local school teachers who’d shot one of the miners dead and the others had fled believing him to be of member of the police forces.
The teacher had taken her home where his wife had provided her with a dress many sizes too large that had at least covered her which the shredded remnants of her own clothes hadn’t. Eventually she had also been provided with a set of badly cured furs which stank, to replace her own which hadn’t. Furs were necessary to venture outside because Yakutsk was the coldest city on Earth. There were colder places on the planet but not by much and they weren’t cities. She didn’t like the food she’d been given, but it was what the teacher’s family ate, for they were poor. To Natasha it had been barely better than starving, but she ate it without complaint and even thanked her hosts for the meal. Spoilt she was, but she did have good manners. The teacher’s sister in law was the woman who’d contacted Elle. Natasha had been kept safe hidden inside the house for nearly two months at the teacher’s house whilst things were arranged for her to travel to somewhere safe. Even when she’d left she’d no idea where she was going.
Her journey to Bearthwaite had been traumatic, for she was taken from Yakutsk by a rough and unsavoury looking group of persons who’d explained clearly that to them she was just a load to be smuggled for money. They hadn’t told her it was big money that would not be paid if she were damaged in any way. When she resisted she was forced to do their will, when she complained she was gagged and had her hands tied behind her back by a woman who told her afterwards, “We are risking our lives to keep you safe you stupid little girl. Noise attracts attention, so keep your mouth shut, or I’ll not only tie your hands and gag you I’ll put a black bag over your head till we hand you over to your final escorts. We intend to collect our money and have no intention of allowing you to prevent that by inviting the authorities to hurt you or steal you from us.” At no time had she been told where they were taking her. When she’d asked where they were going the reply had been brutal. “Somewhere safe, and what you don’t know you can’t reveal, not even under torture.” That had really frightened her.
Most of her journey had been in the back of decrepit, jolting, uncomfortable lorries that even exhausted she found difficulty sleeping in. The lorries never stopped other than for fuel. The smugglers like herself ate on the move, slept on the move and took it in turns to drive. In between the lorries like the others she had walked, and she’d been grateful she was at least wearing her own shoes even if they weren’t suitable for the kind of walking she was having to do. One walk had lasted three days and had been up steep, rocky, goat tracks and over a mountain pass so high the air was thin enough to make her pant and gasp for breath. Then she walked back down another set of goat tracks that were even steeper and rockier than the ascent. She’d been too exhausted to complain after that. One afternoon the apparent leader of the group, a huge dark haired and long bearded ruffian whom she was frightened of and thought of as Blackbeard, for she’d discovered none of her escorts’ names, said, “Tomorrow evening you will leave us.” Then he had walked away.
The smugglers, whom she considered to be her captors rather than her escorts, comprised fourteen persons, but when she awoke after a troubled night sleeping on the cold hard ground with only a coat for cover there were only six still with them. She no longer complained about sleeping on the cold, hard ground because the others all did too. After a skimpy breakfast of stale bread and cold ham cut off the bone Blackbeard had said, “We walk the rest of the way.” They’d stopped in a village for a midday meal where after some money had changed hands they were given mugs of a thin, bitter liquid that was said to be coffee. It was scalding hot, tasted revolting and very welcome. The coffee was accompanied by warm unleavened flatbreads referred to as qutabs stuffed with aubergine and tomatoes and spread with a little yoghurt. It was the best food Natasha had had to eat for days, since her last meal at home. Thinking of that made her cry because she hadn’t allowed herself to think of the events of that day yet, and the nightmare of her journey had prevented her from thinking about anything.
It was late afternoon when they cautiously crested the rise and Natasha saw the harbour and the city in front of them maybe eight kilometres [5 miles] away. Blackbeard had sent one of the others to check that all had been prepared, without specifying what ‘all’ referred to. A couple of hours later the man returned and informed them that the boat had not long since docked and the others would be there by the time they arrived. None of which made any sense to Natasha. She was told to be silent, for if asked they intended to say she was simple. That had proved to be unnecessary. They met up with the other members of the group on the dock who had four horse drawn waggons loaded with maybe a dozen large, gray, plastic drums each. They were laughing and chatting with six men dressed in what Natasha assumed were police uniforms and a dozen men in scruffy dirty clothes. A well dressed, medium sized, black skinned man who looked to be in his early thirties came out of the large, sleek and expensive looking boat moored close to the waggons and asked, “What is this?”
“Part of your cargo,” Blackbeard replied. “We were given word it’s a favour for Elle, Adio, and you’d be told where to deliver her to, so take care of her. She won’t shut up and she constantly complains, but doubtless she’ll learn to school her behaviour and her mouth eventually, hopefully before someone kills her for a bit of peace and quiet.” The others in the group thought that was funny, but to her surprise Natasha felt embarrassed rather than outraged. “If you contact Elle you’ll probably learn more. I didn’t need to know any more, and I don’t like being told what I don’t need to know. People get hurt that way.”
After nodding to Blackbeard in understanding, Adio shouted, “Alerica.” A moment later an extremely attractive and equally dark skinned young woman appeared. Natasha noticed she was in the early stages of pregnancy. Adio indicated Natasha and said, “Cargo. A favour for Elle. Look after her will you please?”
Natasha was worried as well as puzzled. Who had she fallen in with who were doing a favour by escorting her for a mysterious woman only referred to as she. What use for her did they have in mind. That Elle was used as a personal name rather than as a pronoun was something she’d never come across and it did not occur to her.
Alerica nodded to Adio and said quietly, “Come with me, My dear. As you probably gathered I’m Alerica and Adio is my husband. Who are you?”
“Наташа Охлопкова.” Natasha started to cry as the nightmare of the events started to close in on here, a nightmare she could no longer keep at bay.”
“Well, Natasha, I suggest we get you a bath and some better clothes than that dress and those furs before they start to walk on their own, and provide you with a hot meal. I’ve got plenty of things that don’t really fit me any more and that will only get worse with time, but I’m afraid they’ll still all be a bit big on you. I knew things would get different having a baby, but I hadn’t considered how expensive it would be on clothes. Still enough of my complaints because I’ve only got myself to blame. After your bath and clean clothes we can talk about events past and future. I’ll run your bath and find you some clothes whilst you bathe. A pair of shoes too, for yours are just about falling apart. Okay?” Natasha nodded and wiped her eyes.
Natasha hesitantly asked, “I need some тампоны,(25) can you help? Sorry, but I don’t know the word in English. I have enough money to pay for them.”
Alerica smiled and said, “It’s nearly the same, tampon or tampons. There are some in one of the bathroom cabinets that I don’t need paying for. Your English is very good. How is that?”
“My parents taught at the Vladivostok State University. Папочка(26) was a professor of military sciences and Mama(27) was a professor of political sciences. They were very well educated. We often spoke English at home. Now all my family are dead killed by the police in a demonstration at Yakutsk they weren’t even taking part in. We were just visiting one of Mama’s friends. I’m all alone now. I don’t have any family. Where are you taking me? What are you going to do with me? Who is that she those men are doing a favour for?”
“Hush. All will be well, You are not alone and you are safe now. This is neither the time for questions nor for answers. That will come later. Bath, clothes, food, then answers. Okay.”
To Natasha’s surprise, though the bathroom was tiny it was luxurious, the bath was a full sized one and the water was so hot she’d had to add some cold. Alerica had shewed her the foaming bath additives and said to feel free to use whatever she wanted. Alerica’s clothes were too big for Natasha, but were a far better fit than what she’d been wearing before her bath. The shoes were only one size too big and a far better fit than her own were now. She discovered that her vastly oversized dress and the stinking furs had been returned to her escorts. “Theirs is a society that can not afford to waste anything,” Alerica explained. “It would have been grossly insulting and abusive not to have returned what you clearly no longer needed, and they could make good use of.”
After nodding her understanding Natasha asked, “What is that noise, Alerica?”
“They are loading the barrels. Vodka I think, but it could be anything from here. Split, which is where we are, is a notorious smugglers paradise. The police and the dockers will be helping the crew to load the barrels. Adio will tell them one of the barrels is to remain for sharing out amongst those who assisted. It’s all perfectly legal here, but where we’re going it’s not.”
“Those men who brought me here. They’re criminals aren’t they?”
“Smugglers, yes. Criminals? No not really. It’s a respectable profession here. They were only prepared to escort you here because Elle wanted you safe, and they’ll do anything for her. I doubt they’d have done so for anyone else. They wouldn’t have wanted to bring you, for that committed them to staying with you. Normally it’s drink or cigarettes they smuggle, occasionally other luxury goods, and if necessary they can just dump them and escape, but that wouldn’t have been an option escorting you. It took so long to bring you here because the route they used was far longer than their usual route. However, it has the advantage of being barely used by anyone, and the walk over the mountains avoided several centres of population. This is a strange place with it’s own codes of conduct. I’m certain that they would have escorted you here on the understanding that if you were harmed in any way they wouldn’t be paid to ensure they took good care of you. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. Leg of lamb steaks with minted, new potatoes and some kind of local peas that look like beans, or maybe they’re beans that taste like peas. Butter and gravy too. A whole lamb and several sacks of vegetables were given to us this morning in return for a quick run up the coast to one of the islands. We took vegetables there and brought meat on the way back. There’s rum and raison ice cream to follow. That’s Adio’s favourite and he accompanies it with enough hostage rum to lay most men out cold, but it doesn’t seem to affect him. Probably because in England he drinks with a group of men who must be some of the hardest drinkers in the world. That’s where we will be taking you.”
As Alerica chuckled Natasha asked, “Hostage rum? England?”
“Hostage rum is a mostly illegal product of the Caribbean, some call it Screech. Some Screech is legal, mostly from Canada, but the stuff Adio drinks is the real thing and it’s way stronger than any of the Canadian products. Adio is from Kingston Jamaica. I was born in Scotland, not far away from where we are going, but my parents are from Jamaica. Adio and I are second cousins, and my parents don’t approve of him.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s a smuggler, and they say he doesn’t have a proper job or home, but I’ve been in love with him since I was thirteen when I first discovered boys.”
“Where does he live? Where do you live?”
“Here on The Free Spirit. That’s the name of the boat. Adio had it custom built. I haven’t had the heart to tell my parents that it cost way more than two million UK pounds [2·7 USD] before it was finished, and it has a lot more space in it than my parent’s house in Hawick in Scotland.”
“How long till dinner, Love?” Adio asked putting his head into the galley.
“Ten maybe fifteen minutes, why?”
“I’ll get a shower then before we eat. There’s been a delay with the cats. The vet had a busy day at a dairy farm. He’ll sedate them at his place and bring them here with their certificates of health at six tomorrow morning. We’ve already fuelled and watered up and discharged the sewage tank, and done all necessary paperwork, so with a bit of luck we’ll be under way by seven. I’ve been warned that there’s a customs boat in the area and that the crew are nothing more than thinly disguised pirates, so may be we’ll have some fun tomorrow.” At that he left and Natasha heard the sound of running water. She was amazed at the luxury that was available on the boat.”
Alerica seeming her face said, “Adio couldn’t live in a house for more than a few weeks without going crazy. I can’t live without Adio for the same reason, but that doesn’t mean we can’t live well. Most of the luxury that we enjoy onboard I said we had to have when the boat was designed. Adio earns an awful lot of money, but he doesn’t really understand money, or at least it’s not something he cares much about. He does understand a hot shower, a proper galley, that’s a ship’s kitchen, so I can provide good meals, and a comfortable bed. Apart from anything to do with the sea and boats those are the only sorts of things that he really does understand. When he has money if he can’t think of something to spend it on for the Spirit he gives it to me to do what I want with, so he can forget about it and stop worrying about having it unspent. I just bank most of it with some of the persons who live where we’re going, so I don’t have to worry about it either. They invest it for us so it earns a lot more money. Adio’s just an overgrown boy really, but I suspect most men are. Cutlery(28) is in that drawer over there, crockery(29) in the cupboard below. Like all storage space aboard there are spring loaded lockdown catches that you have to release before you can open them, and each piece is individually held in place by a swivel clip. It’s obvious how it all works once you see it. If you get the cutlery and crockery I’ll deal with the food. Thomas, James and Pierre, that’s the crew, don’t like eating below in port even if the weather is foul. They prefer to eat on deck, so they can keep an eye on the dock. They don’t trust the dockers in most places, but especially here at Split. It has a bad reputation for thievery. The scruffy looking men on the dock with the police were part time dockers and probably full time thieves.”
As the two prepared the table Natasha asked, “What was that about cats, Alerica?”
Adio entered with damp hair and wearing clean clothes to say, “We are transporting four European wild cats from an animal sanctuary in Moldova to England for release into the wild. They were rescued from traps probably in Moldova, but possibly the Ukraine, and nursed back to good health. They are solitary animal and need a large territory each. They are endangered animals in the UK which means large empty territories are available for them there and they don’t have to compete with cats in perfect health and physical condition. Many lose toes, which means claws, in the traps which could put them at a disadvantage. It’s illegal to in any way interfere with or move them over here, and arguably illegal to import them into the UK. However there are experts here and in the UK who believe this is the right thing to do. So do Alerica and I, so we transport them free of charge. You dish up, Love, and I’ll take the crew’s meals up to them whilst you’re serving ours. I emptied the clean washing into your ironing basket and put my clothes in the washing machine.”
After eating Adio said, “I don’t doubt that you are exhausted, Natasha, but equally I doubt that you will be unable to sleep without at least some answers. I’ll tell you what I can quickly tell you and leave the rest till tomorrow okay?” Natasha nodded. “I knew about you before we docked here, but it was better to appear not to to the men who brought you to us. I don’t wish to say any more about that or them either. As my friend said ‘I don’t like being told what I don’t need to know. People get hurt that way.’ As you may have heard, we are taking you to a place called Bearthwaite which is in northern England. It is very isolated and very safe. It has a unique culture and history that is intimately descended from the Vikings who lived there a thousand years ago. An important man there is Sasha Vetrov. He is Siberian and he and his wife Elle maintain links with his homeland. He is a mathematician of international fame and repute, but at one time he had problems with the authorities, so he left. Of what nature his problems were I have no idea. How they knew about you again I have no idea, but they have arranged that you will live at Bearthwaite to be safe. It’s a good place and good people live there. Elle used to be a nurse and she arranges medical supplies for the area where those men who brought you to us come from. That has saved the lives of thousands of women and children, particularly pregnant women and women in labour. It has also saved hundreds of working men from losing limbs due to accidents at work that only Elle’s medicines prevented them from needing amputations before gangrene killed them. No one from there would ever deny her a favour, and Elle will be the only reason they were prepared to take the risk escorting you here. We have a lot of friends where we are going. Now I suggest you get some sleep for the noise when we get under way will wake you early.”
Next morning Alerica brought a cup of coffee to Natasha whilst she was still in her bunk and said, “Drink that before you get up. The four cats are safely loaded and the sedatives will last till we are almost there. Their water has something in it that will keep them calm too. They need that because they don’t react well to humans. I have found a smaller dress that will be a better fit for you. Which reminds me, one of the peculiarities of Bearthwaite is that women and girls do not wear trousers, only dresses or skirts. You will not be well thought of if you don’t comply with their customs. I can see you are about to argue. Don’t bother. I don’t live there, so I don’t care. It’s their home, so it operates on their culture. If you don’t comply they’ll never accept you as one of themselves. You’d always be an outsider which is not a good thing. You choice, but as a matter of courtesy I always wear a dress or a skirt when I’m there. It has a much warmer climate than Yakutsk. I know you can say that about everywhere on the planet, but it is a lot warmer, though I have been told your furs will be replaced at some point. We left Split half an hour ago. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes.”
After breakfast, which Alerica took up for Adio and the crew, she washed up immediately they had finished and said, “Everything has to be put away and fastened down in case we have to move suddenly or bad weather blows up which occurs frequently and usually with next to no warning.”After Natasha had helped to dry everything Alerica put it all away and said, “Let’s see what’s happening up there.”
Once on deck Natasha asked, “Why is everyone so nervous and staring through binoculars? And why have they all got guns?”
Alerica replied, “You see that screen that Adio is looking at?” Natasha nodded, “That tells him where other boats are that we can’t see. It’s linked to a satellite that can see them. Mostly the boats will be fishing boats, or cargo boats like us. There will be some pleasure yachts and local police vessels both of which are okay. The crew are looking for customs boats who are out to catch smugglers like us when we try to land a cargo, and pirates aren’t unknown in these waters, not that there is any difference between them since both will take a cargo and kill you if they are having a bad day. Most boats sail in convoys for mutual protection till they get a goodly distance away from the shore. The vodka is okay. We’re legal till we try to land it somewhere with out paying the tax, but customs and other pirates would take it anyway. The guns and other heavier weapons are to discourage them, if necessary by sinking them. It’s the cats that we shouldn’t have aboard. If we can we just avoid the other boats by leaving the area.”
“What will they do if they see us?”
“Chase us.”
“What happens when they catch us?”
Adio laught and said, “This is a boat with the power of more than five thousand horses in the engines. There is no chance they can catch us. When Alerica insisted on spending all that money on luxury below decks, which by the way I am in no way complaining about, it’s just that it wouldn’t have occurred to me, I spent even more on the engines, the hull design and for experts to determine where and how all weight including cargo should be distributed.”
“So we can go faster than them?”
“Natasha my dear, The Free Spirit is a super cigarette class boat and under reasonably good weather conditions and a calm sea, both of which we have today, she can move at a hundred and five knots which is a little more than a hundred and twenty miles an hour, as I think you are about to find out. Buckle down, Men. Alerica, double check everything is fastened down down below and buckle Natasha into a chair from where she can see everything.” Alerica pushed Natasha into a swivelling chair and fastened all the straps of a complicated looking harness before rapidly going below. She was back within a couple of minutes and fastened herself into a similar chair beside Natasha. Five minutes later an official looking boat hove into sight and a man with a loud hailer ordered them to heave to and prepare to be boarded for a customs inspection. Adio ordered the throttles to be opened enough to maintain the distance between the boats and the customs boat gave chase. “Let’s maintain this distance and get out of sight of any other boats before we lose them,” Adio ordered, still watching the screen. Ten minutes later the gap between The Free Spirit and the customs boat was still about four hundred metres [¼ mile] when Adio ordered, “Okay, Thomas, open her up. James, head straight out from the shore. Pierre keep scanning the listening frequencies in case they are talking to friends we don’t yet know about on other than their usual communications channels.” The Free Spirit accelerated so hard that Natasha was forced back into her seat. Quarter of an hour later Adio said, “Okay, Men, that’s it. Thomas, cut back and save some fuel. James, head for Gibraltar. Pierre keep scanning.”
“That was exciting, Alerica.”
“Yes, if Adio and the crew don’t get chased at least once a trip it’s a bitter disappointment to them. Some of the customs boats know about us and don’t bother us because they know they can’t catch us. Some have opened fire on us. The trip before last, a customs boat tried that and Adio blew their boat to bits out from under them. The first time that happened Adio left them our RIB to get to shore in. RIB is the initials used for a Rigid Inflatable Boat. A RIB costs serious money. Anything Adio would be prepared to own would be about twenty thousand pounds, that’s maybe two and a half million Russian rubles. Since then we carry a spare inflatable boat for them. Adio can buy them for about a hundred pounds which would be a bit more than eleven thousand rubles. I suspect they must all be aware that we can sink them by now and it won’t be long before they avoid us. Like I said, Adio and the crew are all overgrown boys. They all earn huge amounts of money and then they do this for fun! Once you start taking an interest in boys you’ll soon realise that they’re all completely crazy. Unfortunately life just isn’t the same without them somehow, so may be we’re as crazy as they are.”
Natasha lost track of time as The Free Spirit made it’s way to exit the Mediterranean. Pierre taught her to fish which made for interesting meals, and Alerica explained more about Bearthwaite which left her with more questions than answers. Many of her questions Alerica didn’t have answers to, which bothered Natasha because she wondered if she’d be happy living there. When Alerica had told her that most Bearthwaite girls of her age had boyfriends she was taken aback. Boys were something the girls of her age at school had only giggled about, but she had recently been becoming more interested in them. Natasha found Alerica’s pregnancy fascinating but was embarrassed because she couldn’t help but keep looking. Alerica was understanding and was happy to discuss the changes it was making to her body, but also explained since it was her first everything was new to her and as she had said before the rate at which she was outgrowing her clothes was alarming. When they passed the Rock of Gibraltar Adio had said, “The sea will become rougher soon. The shipping forecast predicts winds of force six to seven. The air will become colder.”
Adio had been right about the weather and Alerica had insisted she spent a lot of her time below. “You don’t have the experience to be safe on deck in poor weather, and we want you to be safe.” Below with little to do other than listen to the monotonous drone of the engines it seemed to Natasha to take forever to pass by the west coat of Spain, and just as long to bypass the French coat which most of the time wasn’t even visible. The radio and the television signals were both good but neither were of any interest to Natasha and she’d never been interested in puzzles nor computer games. Most of her time she spent watching wildlife clips and old movies on Youtube. As they passed Cornwall and then Wales with Ireland to their left, their port she was told, at least some of the time there was something to look at. “That’s the Isle of Man to our starboard,” Alerica said pointing to their right. “Sometimes we go to the east of it, but it depends on the weather and the tides which way we go. We are nearly there. We don’t usually travel this fast because it’s expensive on fuel and the men are just as happy to just use the sails, but the cats need to spend as little time aboard in those travelling carriers as possible which is why Adio elected to do the voyage which is a bit more than three thousand one hundred nautical miles, about three thousand six hundred miles, in six days at twenty-five knots which is a bit less than thirty miles per hour. We could go much faster but that uses ridiculous amounts of fuel, so this is the best compromise. I wouldn’t call it a frequent trip, but maybe twice a year we carry cats as well as liquor, and it’s always a fast voyage. Usually without cats it would take three to four weeks.”
That night as Natasha was helping Alerica in the kitchen she heard a lot of banging. She asked what had been happening to be told by Adio, “Just moving the cargo ready for easing it over the stern into the water as soon as it gets full dark. We’ll dock at Silloth on Solway harbour tomorrow morning.” Natasha was bright enough to realise it was something neither to be talked about, nor to ask questions about. She understood the barrels of vodka would be dropped into the sea and some how local boats, probably fishing vessels she was telt, would pick them up later. She was below when she heard the regular, quiet splashes as the barrels entered the water. At no point had she ever seen or heard the wild cats and she was later told they had been transferred to other vessels when she’d been asleep. At Silloth there was a brief inspection and she saw the crew loading plastic barrels that were identical to the ones they’d dropped into the sea. “Cyanobacta, officially we’re here to pick it up,”Adio said. “It’s a spirit made at the Bearthwaite distillery that they export to all sorts of places. We carry a lot of it for them because it provides us with a justifyable reason to dock here with an empty hold.”
“Is that legal?”
“Certainly. There’s no tax to pay on it as long as we export it out of the UK. There is tax to pay in most places that we take it to. If we didn’t pay it that would be smuggling wouldn’t it?” Adios voice was almost but not quite guileless as he said that. “It’ll be sealed in the hold with customs seals till we leave in about ten days. That will give us time to make arrangements with whoever wants to buy it and their taxation authorities. The UK customs don’t care as long as it leaves the UK and doesn’t come back.”
Alerica told her, “I’ve contacted Elle and told her that by eleven Adio will have completed the paperwork with the harbour master and will have seen that the fuel and water tanks have been filled and the sewage holding tank has been emptied and we’ll all be ready to go. The crew are heading to Glasgow for what will probably be a week of wine, women and song with three or four days left to recover from their hangovers. The three of us will be picked up here by someone from Bearthwaite. Elle will be coming to meet us and we intend to go shopping for some clothes and other things for you in Carlisle, which is a small city with may be a third of the population of Yakutsk, before going to your new home. Adio and I shall be staying at Bearthwaite. We have a standing invitation for free accommodation at the Inn there which is where that vodka or whatever it was will end up. It’s a strange place with a large men only room where they tell tales, jokes, lies and probably dirty stories not suitable for the ears of females too. They drink the locally brewed beer and a variety of what I am told are exceedingly potent spirits that come from all over the world, much of which arrives there via The Free Spirit. The men’s story telling is a Saturday evening ritual event and Adio will wish to enjoy two Saturdays. Adio has friends who never miss a Saturday because they live at Bearthwaite, some of them originated in Jamaica. You’ll enjoy growing up there. If I had to settle down and live ashore and could choose where I wanted to live Bearthwaite would be the place, and Adio has said the same. As for you and I, we’ll spend Saturday evening in the pleasant Lounge of the inn in entirely female company and gossip. Supper will be provided and doubtless there will be some sort of delightful sweet things to go with supper. All the food there is cooked on the premises from locally grown and raised fruit, vegetables and meat.”
A large immaculately polished but old fashioned looking Mercedes pulled up at the docks at ten to eleven. Natasha expected a uniformed chauffeur to be driving, but it was a huge man, well over two metres tall [six feet seven] and massively chested who had been driving. He was dressed in ordinary clothes and an impressive looking pullover that had patterns that went all the way around it including on the sleeves. The hands that he offered Adio to shake before the two men hugged and slapped each other powerfully on the back were huge. “Bertie!” exclaimed Adio, “What are you doing cab driving? Your grandfather sacked you or what?”
“I wish. No, we’ve done some improvements to the engines’ fuel heat exchanger system, so they run on vegetable oil better and I’m just testing it. Granddad will want a detailed report when I get back. You know what he’s like. Gran has made him do less in the workshop, but that doesn’t stop the auld bugger from thinking. Let’s get your luggage aboard, Lad, whilst the ladies have a craic. Alerica, I can see you and the next generation are doing just fine, Lass. It’s good to see you.” At that Bertie gently hugged Alerica and kissed her on both cheeks which to Natasha’s surprise she returned. “You must be Natasha,” Bertie said quietly. “You have my sympathy for your losses. This must all be overwhelming. I’ve been instructed to assist you in any way that Elle says I have to.” He opened his arms and to her surprise Natasha accepted his hug and was even grateful for his kisses which she hesitantly returned.”
Elle then pushed Bertie away and said, “Load the car, Bertram.” Bertie grinned and winked at Natasha, but he did what he’d been told. “There is much to talk about Наташа, but let’s leave that till later. Now we go shopping. So let’s get into the car.” Natasha had been amazed that Elle had pronounced her name as a Siberian would rather than the way an English speaker would, but she held her peace.”
The shopping was a major surprise to Natasha. It was like a series of rapid commando raids on the various retail establishments they visited. Establishments that sold a far wider variety of merchandise that she’d ever seen before. Bertie and Adio were kept busy taking armloads of merchandise back to the car, including numerous carrier bags of lingerie from La Senza. Eventually after spending what Natasha had estimated to be over a thousand pounds, she’d no idea how much that was in terms that meant anything to herself, Elle had said, “That’ll do for the now, unless you can think of anything else, Alerica?”
“Shoes, Elle, shoes.”
“Correct, I forgot.” An hour later, after spending yet again unknown amounts of money, they all returned to the car. Throughout the spending spree Natasha had kept trying to say it wasn’t necessary, but Elle was like a juggernaut and there was no stopping her.
In the car Elle said, “Home, James.”
As Natasha looked around for James, Alerica said, “It’s just an expression that means let’s go home. It’s a very old expression from before the days of cars. The full expression is ‘Home, James, and don’t spare the horses,’ so presumably James was the coachman who drove the team of horses.”
On the way to Bearthwaite Elle gave her further explanations on what to expect. “Sasha and I are far too old to adopt you, Девочка,(30) so we have been thinking about who you would like as parents who are of an appropriate age. You know you can’t return to Vladivostok. My husband Sasha can speak as you do, so there is no danger of losing that if you meet him to talk to say once a week. It’s good that your English is as good as it is. I don’t wish to impose any on you, but I wish you to meet with a Bearthwaite couple with a view to accepting them as your parents. They too have problems and I believe you would all suit each other. Elin is a superb artist, both traditional and digital, she draws and uses computers and is involved with a wide variety of activities with our children. She is also trans, do you know what I mean by that?” Natasha nodded. “Good. Her husband Sun is of Hong Kong Chinese origins and he is our GP, that’s our family doctor. They have been waiting for children to adopt with NCSG which is a major adoption agency for some time now, then I heard about you. Would you allow me to introduce you all this afternoon? I really can’t see any sense in waiting till tomorrow. If it’s not a success we can try some other couple tomorrow.”
Natasha nodded and asked, “What about school?”
“Today is Thursday, and you are going to be very busy tomorrow. I’d suggest that three days gives you some time to settle in and to meet a few children of your age. Monday would be a good day to start school. Okay?”
It was all very scary for Natasha, but it could have been a lot worse. She knew how lucky she’d been. The narrowly avoided gang rape, her being taken care of by persons who in truth owed her nothing and her being provided with a new family who it seemed would understand her problems because they had their own. “Дa, cпасибо.(31) I mean yes, thank you.” Natasha was taken aback again, for it seemed that Elle had understood her before she translated her thanks into English.
The meeting with Elin and Sun went well and was rather emotional. As Elle left she considered all things taken together were going better than any had a right to expect. Too, she considered to hide her origins she needed to be much more careful with Natasha, for she was intelligent, observant and had realised that Elle understood her when she had unintentionally spoken Russian. Too, Elle knew she’d used Russian pronunciation and sentence structures when speaking English a few times, and referring to Natasha as Девочка had been a mistake.
When Sasha had met with Adio he’d asked, “All went well?”
“Yes. The barrels will be hooked and towed by small fishing boats, probably lobster men when pulling creels, just one at a time to be collected by vans all over the north shore of the Solway. Give it ten days or so and Pete will have them all. When exactly two hundred litres of spirits is in them they barely float with the bulk of the barrel just below the surface which makes them very hard to spot, but those electronic things that Harry put together that only send out a ping(32) in response to receiving one are brilliant. We tried them out in international waters and tracked down and collected barrels after a single ping in most cases, a couple of pings for maybe a quarter of them and just one required three. On that one we noticed the electronic gadget was at the bottom of the barrel, so maybe the men that fill the containers need to work out which way up they prefer to float before filling them so that a single ping works every time. Perhaps simpler, it occurred to me that if the air bladder inside that provides the buoyancy were fastened to the side that side would always be uppermost. I’ll tell them about that.
“Harry said that we can tune them to a wide range of different frequencies and as long as the men collecting the barrels know the frequency they can set their equipment to match. He also said he’s working on a fast scanning pinger that will turn off immediately once it has a hit. Next time I’m planning a night delivery to an isolated beach somewhere, but I haven’t decided where just yet. I need to talk to a couple of people first. The cats were taken off, one to a boat in the night. Though sedated and calm in their travelling carriers all the way they were awake enough to eat a little of the dried food and drink some water from those spill proof containers that clip on to the outside of the cages which are a considerable improvement on the water bowls. The new cages are just like a bigger version of the carriers little old ladies use to take Puss to the vets. I’ll be contacted as soon as the cats have recovered and been released probably tomorrow morning, lunchtime at the latest. I’ll let you know when I do.
“As for Natasha, none of it has hit her yet, poor girl. The folk who got her out and delivered her to me at Split told me that they were damned hard on her. They had to be because it was only her resentment that kept her from breaking down. If she’d broken down on them they’d never have got her out of there past those who were looking for her. She’s not aware of it, but there were a couple of very close shaves, the first not long after they collected her at Yakutsk. When she created they tied her hands and gagged her. They threatened to do worse if she didn’t keep quiet. The second time was three days later which was what decided them to take the mountain pass. But sooner or later she’ll break down for sure. The authorities in Moscow still have people looking for her round Yakutsk and Vladivostok. I don’t believe for a second it was an accident her parents were killed in that miners’ protest, and I’m certain that if the authorities had found her they’d have played safe, assumed she was aware of her parents’ work and activities and killed her. Change her name sometime soon, Sasha. Find an insignificant almost anonymous girl of her age who died living on the streets in a city somewhere a long way from here and use her name, or get her adopted with a change of name, whatever, but get creative and do it soon. It’s unlikely anyone will track her to here, but accidents do happen, and Russian ships do put in at Silloth and Maryport. Probably Workington and Whitehaven too for all I know. All Russian sailors are part time spies who get paid for every scrap of information they provide. They are always looking to add to their pay, so don’t make it any easier for them. If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you in the Dragon tomorrow night.”
On Monday morning Natasha was going to walk to school with some of the children she’d had fun with over the weekend. Elin had telt her it would make her life easier if she had the same surname as her parents. But being Chinese her dad’s name would only draw unwanted attention to her which was why she had retained her own surname, Goldberg. She suggested that Natasha used Goldberg too. Natasha had asked, “Is this to protect me from whoever killed my parents?” Elin had nodded without saying a word. “Okay. Natasha Goldberg it is. Will you tell the school for me?”
Again Elin had just nodded, but she then said, “I know you are aware of things that have to do with you journey from Siberia to here, but to keep yourself and others safe I suggest you never talk about about your life before arriving here, nor how you travelled here with any one other than me, your dad and Sasha. I also suggest you never talk about Sasha or Elle to any one including me and your dad. It’s no use asking me why because I don’t know anything other than it’s not wise and if you do folk could possibly die as a result. Adio and Alerica have mouths tighter than clams, so all will be fine there, but they won’t like it if you talk to them about anything that happened. These are serious matters and more than enough folk involved have already been murdered.”
“I understand, Mama. I promise. That’s my friends knocking. I’d better go. I don’t want to be late for school on my first day.”
“Okay. Off you go. I’ll ring the school now about your name.”
The six girls and four boys were still chatting as they entered their registration classroom. When Rosa Laidlaw, who taught French, looked around to do her register she said out loud, “Before we start I’d like to welcome our new pupil Natasha Goldberg who prefers to be called Tasha.”
After registration the children went to Matthew Webb’s classroom for geography. Tasha had been asked by Hallon to join his group for a small group exercise in map interpretation. Hallon explained to Tasha, “Mr Webb is relatively new. He’s a member of the games staff and teaches swimming, life saving and water games, but he also teaches year seven geography and history. He’s covering for Mrs Scott’s year nine form. She’s having a baby. He’s cool and a good teacher.” After a few minutes he said, “Goldberg is Auntie Elin’s surname. I can see why you went for that rather than Tasha Wing, but what was your name before?”
The entire group of four were interested and Tasha realising that the best way to allow the matter to be forgotten was to provide an answer rather than refusing to said “Goldsmith which could have caused all sorts of confusion.”
Hallon was laughing as he said, “Yeah. Right. It was the obvious thing to do, so Tasha Goldberg it is.” All seemed to go well after that and the morning’s lessons passed enjoyably and hence quickly for all of the class.
At lunchtime a tall skinny boy and three girls joined Natasha and her new friends at their table. “Hi, Ginny, how come you’re all together. They’re all siblings,” Megan, one of the girls in Natasha’s class said. “Usually only Ginny joins us for lunch. Isdís and Nina join their boyfriends who are older than us and they have lunch with others in their class.”
“Hal’s mine,” Ginny explained sitting on Hallon’s lap before kissing his cheek. “Víðir(33) wants to meet Tasha, but wanted my support, so we all came. Sit down, Víðir, Tasha’s only a lass like we three. She won’t bite, unless you ask her nicely.” The entire group of children were laughing except Natasha and Víðir who were bright red. “You two may as well go now and find the lads. We’ll deal with this.” At that Ginny’s sisters left to find their boyfriends. “Tasha, stop blushing. If you don’t want anything to do with Víðir this is the time to say it. None, least of all Víðir, will be upset by that, but this is how we are, kind of honest to the point of what outsiders would say was rudeness. If you think you may like him finish your lunch and then take a walk round the green with him. You can always take a few days to have a think about it. If you upset her, Víðir, I’ll do something really mean to you.”
Walking round the green Víðir asked, “Is there just you? No siblings?” Natasha shook her head, “I love all my sisters to bits, but there are times I when I wish I were an only child, especially when Ginny is being pushy. She can be a bit much sometimes.”
“I can understand that. She is a bit strong minded isn’t she? But I think she’s kind. She helped me a lot this morning with lessons. She’s clever isn’t she?”
“She’s a lot cleverer than me. May I hold your hand?” Natasha nodded and holding hands the pair talked about lessons and Bearthwaite till the bell rang. Víðir walked Natasha to the door she needed for her next lesson, which was science, and said, “I’ll wait here for you after school.” Natasha nodded and to his surprise kissed his cheek before hurriedly opening the door and disappearing through it.
Natasha found a tall lab stool in the laboratory and as Ginny pulled up a stool and sat down beside her she said, “I take it you decided you like my brother, Tasha? I was texted that you kissed him at least a dozen times. I mean a dozen texts about one kiss not one text about a dozen kisses.” Seeing a look of perplexity on Natasha’s she said, “A dozen is twelve. Is that what you didn’t understand?”
Natasha nodded and said, “All I have to do now is decide how to tell Mama.”
“You don’t have to worry about doing that, Lass, because she’ll already know. That’s the downside of being Bearthwaite folk. It’s impossible to have any secrets. You’ll get used to it. Gossip round here is the only known thing in the entire universe that travels faster than the speed of light. You’re really lucky you know because your mum, Auntie Elin is really nice. Your dad, Uncle Sun, is a bit scary because he’s a doctor, but he’s really kind. He had to examine me once, you know, a knickers off kind of examination and I was really embarrassed, but it was okay. Without saying owt he went out into the waiting room and fetcht my mum back before I took my knickers off. He was really nice about it. If I ever have to have another examination like that I’ll insist on seeing him rather than Auntie Abbey. She’s the other doctor here, but I’ve been going to Uncle Sun since I was little, so I’m kind of used to him. When Auntie Abby came here, which wasn’t long ago, she was supposed to take the mother and baby stuff, well the stuff that needed a doctor rather than a nurse, and the women’s gynaecology clinics too instead of Uncle Sun, but most of the women insisted on seeing Uncle Sun, cos they were used to him. So Auntie Abby takes the Diabetes clinic instead. Course any woman who wants to see Auntie Abby may, but they have to make an appointment rather than just turning up at the clinic. I’ll definitely go to see Uncle Sun. The midwives say he really knows his stuff.”
The two girls carried on chatting on and off during their practical class for the best part of another hour, and when they parted Tasha was a lot happier having been provided with a lot of what she considered to be vital information that convinced her she would actually be happy at Bearthwaite, which she hadn’t expected to be. She still cried about losing her parents, though less often than she had at first when she’d arrived at Bearthwaite, but her reality was school five days a week, but that would have been so no matter where she lived, though at Bearthwaite sometimes there was school on Saturdays too. Too, Ginny had been correct, her new mum and dad were kind and clearly loved her a lot. She loved doing mum and daughter things with Elin, which her birth mother had never had time for, and she was happy to be becoming a woman. She knew she was becoming a woman not because of her changing body, but because she been admitted to the sisterhood and she actually understood what was going on when older women said in exasperation, “Men!” Though she admitted, if only to herself that it was really nice the way Víðir appreciated her changing body, and his was nice too. The only thing that bothered her was she had trouble remembering to call her new parents Mum and Dad rather than Mama and Папочка. She knew she would eventually, but it needed to be soon for the safety of any number of persons.
Margot Cartwright could only be described as being of a literary turn of mind. Her tastes in reading material had always been of a catholic if somewhat exotic nature. She wrote historical fiction which had a small group of appreciative readers on the internet site where she posted her work. She also wrote children’s fantasy short stories which had never found an appreciative audience other than the children of Bearthwaite and their parents and older siblings who gratefully used them as bedtime stories. Nominally she worked for Christine preserving food, but she also spent time reading to young children at the BEE and assisting their efforts as they mastered the skills of reading and writing. Since Covid, she had also assisted fifteen and sixteen year olds with GCSE English literature and seventeen and eighteen year olds with aspects of their A’ level English course. Over the school year she also ran a creative writing course as an evening school activity that adults and children alike enjoyed. Recently she’d helped Annalísa turn the oral tradition sǫgur that she’d translated from High Fell into English into sǫgur of an appropriate literary style, for though Annalísa was indeed a unique and talented translator of the sǫgur that the shepherds and wallers recited, or said as they would put it, for the art was known to them as sagasay, up on the fell tops, or fjäll(34) tops as they would have it, she was no story teller nor writer herself. Her translations were accurate but lacked the vibrancy and excitement of the sǫgur in their original language. Margot reinstated that vibrancy and excitement in English and that had in turn worked its way into modern Scandinavian languages too.
Margot had arrived at Bearthwaite twenty six years ago aged twenty-nine as a single mother with Arathane aged six. She gone to Bearthwaite in the company of Þorbjörn(35) as his promised woman. They’d met one Saturday lunchtime in the small café near the Brockholes Arms Auction Mart livestock market where Margo had been waitressing. Thirty year old Þorbjörn who worked as an allotmenteer who kept hens and ducks had gone there hoping to buy some Guinea fowl. He knew they had a good meat to bone ratio and had heard they were excellent at clearing fallow land of pests that would subsequently attack vegetable crops and even the ticks that made life a misery for livestock, so he wanted to try them. He was aware that a Guinea hen that laid eighty eggs a year was considered to be a top of the range layer for the species which was not comparable with his Khaki Campbell ducks where three hundred and fifty eggs a year was typical, but his ducks cleared slugs and not the smaller pests. A duck, he’d often explained to children, was a miracle from the days of alchemy that turned slugs into yolk. He’d then usually had to explain what alchemy was.
He’d noticed the harassed looking waitress who was serving twice as many tables as the other girls and women, yet they were not receiving the pressure that was on the edge of abuse from the manager. It was when the manager called her a useless slut for all the customers to hear that Þorbjörn had decided enough was enough. Þorbjörn was a big man, a two metre man, [six foot seven] and when he punched the fat, abusive manager in the stomach, his feet had left the floor and his flight had only been arrested when he made contact with the wall behind him. He’d been deflated to the point of not being able to speak till long after Þorbjörn and Margot had gone. The other customers had refused to be involved. They hadn’t approved of the manager’s treatment of Margot, but hadn’t been prepared to remonstrate with him either. However, nor were they prepared to remonstrate with any who gave the man his just deserts. Þorbjörn had grabbed Margot’s arm and said, “Whatever that pathetic excuse for a man is paying you it isn’t enough. You don’t need this, lets go. What does he owe you?”
“Eight pounds for today’s work. Why?”
Þorbjörn had reached into the till and taken a tenner, which he shewed to the customers. “He owes the waitress eight. I’m taking ten. Two is as recompense for the abuse he gave her.” He turned to the wheezing man and said, “If you wish to make anything of this. I’ll come back to discuss the matter. If you forget it, so shall I. If you don’t neither shall I.”
Margot had been upset by the invective she’d received from the manager and had been stunned and grateful for Þorbjörn’s timely intervention, so she’d let him lead her away with out protest.
After they had reached Þorbjörn’s Land Rover, which to Margot’s surprise had a trailer behind it in which was a large cage containing a couple of dozen noisy birds the size of big hens. “This is yours.” Þorbjörn gave her the tenner and asked, “You got owt here you want to take with you?” It hadn’t occurred to Þorbjörn that Margot was in a relationship because no man worth calling a man in his eyes would have tolerated his woman being subject to that abuse.
“Just my son and some clothes. We…. We struggle just to eat. Why?”
“Let’s collect the lad and your gear. I can find you a better job and a decent place to stay. What’s his name? Your lad I mean, not that obnoxious fool that had clearly been in need of a damned good arse kicking for some time.”
“Arathane. His name is Arathane and he’s six.”
“Arathane‽ Where’s that from? Sounds Saxon to me.”
“Paper and pens are cheap, so I write fiction for entertainment. I made the name up for a hero in a bedtime story that was set in Saxon times. I started writing stories for Arathane. I’m Margot. What’s your name?”
“Þorbjörn Njálsson.”
“As in Thorbear son of Njál?”
“Aye. There’re a lot of folk where I come from with old names like mine. It’s spelt with a letter thorn at the beginning. It looks like an upper case letter pea, P, with the rounded part slid down the vertical stroke a bit, Þ. How did you know that’s what my name means?”
“I know what thorn is and all the other Scandinavia letters too. I’ve read all the sagas I have managed to get copies of.”
Þorbjörn nodded and said, “That’s sǫgur(36) not sagas, Lass.”
“Sorry, but I didn’t understand that.”
“The plural of saga is sǫgur, not sagas. Well it is where I come from. That’s how the folk as speak High Fell pronounce and spell it. In truth that’s how they all pronounce it and how them as can read and write spell it. The o is called an o caudata, as in o with a tail, it’s a bit like the cedilla under the c, ç, in some loan words that came from French like façade”
Hesitantly Margot asked, “You’re from Bearthwaite?”
“Aye. Is that a problem to you? You bin listening to all the nonsense that outsider folk say about us?”
“No, no problem. Not at all. Even the nonsense as you called it, I’d have used a stronger word because most of it is obviously lies, has always fascinated me. I’d love to go there to experience that sense of history because that is the backdrop to some of the kind of stories I write.”
Þorbjörn hesitated before asking, “You wed, divorced, or courting, Margot Lass, or got a man in your life?”
“No, and not likely to get one either. Decent men don’t want an unmarried mother with a six year old son who lives hand to mouth and has no clothes in which to dress up pretty, and I’m not interested in any other kind of man. Why?”
“You want a man in you life? I’m thirty, single, got no kids and looking. I’d be happy to tek the lad on as my own if you’re interested. If of course I’d not be upsetting the lad’s relationship with his dad.”
Taken aback, Margot told the truth, “I went to a party. I didn’t have much to drink, so I reckon my glass was spiked(37) because I woke up somewhere else. I don’t know who his father is. Finding that I was expecting was a serious shock and cost me all my family and friends. They all turned their backs on me without even listening to an explanation. So why would you do that for us. You don’t know me and haven’t even met Arathane.”
Þorbjörn shrugged and replied, “The fools who turned their backs on you are that way because that’s the way they are. We are the way we are because that’s the way we are. I’ll tell it as it is. I’m looking for a lass. I like what I see and more I like what you’ve telt me of yoursel. I reckon a lass like you would make me an envied man, and I’d be stupid not to at least try to interest you. The idea of you in my bed is a welcome one, for you’re a pretty lass. The idea of you in my life is even more welcome, for you’re an intelligent, hard working interesting lass. I’m no woman abusing monster, but I am a man, and the idea of a woman in his bed is something all men appreciate. That’s just the way we are, even the best of us, which I don’t claim to be. As for Arathane, if we marry since he’s yours he’s mine. That’s how it works at Bearthwaite. I’ll ask again. You interested?”
“We’re here. Arathane will be inside. It’s not safe for him to play outside on his own here.
Þorbjörn insisted, asking again, “We’re going to Bearthwaite, Lass. Are you interested in me as your man?”
“Yes. I’m interested. You said you wanted a wife and were honest as to why. I’ll be just as honest. I’d be grateful of the care and protection of a decent man, but I’ve a son to protect. I’m no whore, but the exchange of bed comforts and a well kept dwelling for the protection of herself and her children is an exchange so ancient it’s decent way beyond decency, so my price is marriage. When do we get married? because till then I’m not prepared to offer you the opportunity to father my second child.”
“That’s a fair stance for a decent lass to take. It makes realise that I made a bloody good choice of lass. Want to serve notice at the registrar’s office at Carlisle tomorrow?”
“Okay. Want to seal the deal with a kiss right now?”
Several minutes later the couple went into Margot’s room. Þorbjörn was appalled at the state of the building and the condition of the room. It was clear that Margot had done everything that could be done to make her living conditions as good as possible, but there was nothing she could do about the damp and mouldy walls. Þorbjörn considered none should have to live in such conditions. That she shared the only mattress, which was on the floor, with her son made him struggle to keep his anger under control. “Who’s he, Mum?”
Without hesitation Þorbjörn replied, “I’m going to be your dad as soon as your mum and I get married. We’ll start the process tomorrow, and we’ll be married in about a month, but you may as well start calling me Dad right now. If you help us to pack up everything you wish to take we’re leaving as soon as possible. You and your mum are coming home with me. All this,” Þorbjörn indicated the entirety of the room and it’s surroundings with a disparaging sweep of his arm, “is a thing of the past. You’ll be living in far better surroundings than this and you’ll have a room of your own with a bed. Lets get to it, so we can do a bit of serious shopping before we go home.” After packing which only took minutes for there was little to pack Þorbjörn took the route to the M6 motorway and headed north for Carlisle where he parked in two spaces in the multi storey, slipped the attendant a twenty pound note to keep an eye on his trailer and proceeded to spend several hundreds of pounds on clothing and footwear. “We’ll get better clothes and way better shoes and boots made at Bearthwaite, but that will tek a week or two, so this will keep you going till then.”
Arathane had been excited at the idea of school for he was clever and enjoyed learning, but because Margot had had to move a lot to keep in employment his education had been haphazard with a lot of gaps. His intelligence had enabled him to keep up with his peers, but he’d missed school and the fun at playtimes. Usually Margot had had to move as soon as her employers had realised that though she may be desperate she wasn’t desperate enough to be an easy lay which was the point at which they had fired her.
A month later Margot and Þorbjörn were married and a month after that Margot was pregnant with a daughter who would be named Ingaþeerdís,(38) which had been Þorbjörn’s deceased grandmother’s name. Many years later Arathane would marry Abbey at the time a thirty year old doctor desperate to escape from Glasgow and even more so to escape from the NHS.(39) Working with Sun at Bearthwaite was to Abbey an escape to paradise. Þorbjörn telt Arathane, “If ever your mum considered that she owed me owt for marrying her, which just isn’t true, you repaid it by doing what you are for Abbey. What goes around comes around, Son. Though maybe in this case it’s what comes around is going around.”
26056 words
1 A tarn, or corrie loch, is usually a mountain lake, pond or pool, formed in a cirque excavated by a glacier. A moraine may form a natural dam below a tarn. Here the sink holes are the result of softer limestone being dissolve by rain which is naturally slightly acidic due to the formation of carbonic acid from the rain’s reaction with carbon dioxide from the air. H2O + CO2 → H2CO3. The needle like spires have been formed by the same process, only the softer limestone surrounding the harder limestone from which they were formed has dissolved away from around them.
2 Tween as an age range in Bearthwaite starts at the cusp of puberty and melds somewhat indistinctly into the time rage occupied by teenagers with no definitive transition point.3 To cop a feel, an vernacular expression imported from outside via the media and school, in the days when secondary age children were educated at Whiteport Academy. It is used by girls and boys usually implying a boy touching a girl’s breasts or genitalia. Less frequently it is used to describe a girl touching a boy’s genitalia. It is usually used to describe situations where a young couple are partaking in mutually consenting explorations of their early developing sexualities, rather than situations involving unconsenting assault as implied here.
3 To cop a feel, an vernacular expression imported from outside via the media and school, in the days when secondary age children were educated at Whiteport Academy. It is used by girls and boys usually implying a boy touching a girl’s breasts or genitalia. Less frequently it is used to describe a girl touching a boy’s genitalia. It is usually used to describe situations where a young couple are partaking in mutually consenting explorations of their early developing sexualities, rather than situations involving unconsenting assault as implied here.
4 Hunert, hundred.
5 Efts, local term for newts.
6 Blåbär, known elsewhere as blaeberry or bilberry. Not the same as blueberry.
7 Giant hogweed, a plant that can reach sixteen feet [5m] high and ten [3m] across. Although an impressive sight when fully grown, giant hogweed is invasive and potentially harmful. Chemicals in the sap cause photo dermatitis or photosensitivity, where the skin becomes very sensitive to sunlight and may suffer excruciating blistering, pigmentation and permanent scarring. Giant hogweed is usually referred to by one name, Heracleum mantegazzianum. However, while this is one of the species, there are as many as four other giant hogweeds at large in Britain some of which are biennial and others perennial. However, all have high levels of furanocoumarins (the chemicals which cause burning by making the skin sensitive to sunlight) and so all pose a risk to public health. The Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981, states you must not plant or cause to grow Giant Hogweed in the wild. The penalties could be up to 2 years imprisonment and a £40,000 fine. It is a major problem in a few areas, but to date there is no indication anywhere that any has been prosecuted for assisting its spread nor indeed that any has done so.
8 BEE, Bearthwaite Educational Establishment.
9 The Cumbria shootings were a shooting spree that occurred on the 2nd of June in 2010 when a lone gunman, taxi driver Derrick Bird, killed twelve people (including his twin brother) and injured eleven others in Cumbria.
10 A Baulk, is a large, solid piece of timber that is typically squared or rectangular in shape. It is commonly used in construction for structural purposes, such as beams, columns, and joists.
11 Bitching, complaining.
12 Spelks, vernacular splinters.
13 An accusation of hypocrisy based on Matthew 7:3-5 from the bible. The New International Version gives the text as, Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.
14 The implication here is it was a very long time ago when poaching was a hanging offence. Hanging was abolished for murder in the UK in 1965 for 5 years which was made permanent in 1969.
15 Ɖelmara, pronounced Thell ma ra, the Th as in then, with all three vowels hard and short. IPA, ðɛlmara. Upper case eth, Ɖ, is rarely found for few words begin with eth. What few there are are old and tend to be proper nouns, that is to say names. Lower case eth, ð, is much more commonly found.
16 See GOM 48
17 To wind up, to annoy or upset someone usually often with malice. Also to deliberately provoke someone.
18 Gobshite, a mean and contemptible person, especially a braggart, also a stupid and incompetent person.
19 Thick is a synonym for stupid in English English. As thick as two short planks is a widely used expression.
20 Thick is a synonym for stupid in English English. As thick as two short planks is a widely used expression.
21 Asian in English English only refers to the Indian sub continent, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka. It does not include China, Japan or Korea.
22 An intranet is a computer network for sharing information, easier communication, collaboration tools, operational systems, and other computing services within an organization, usually to the exclusion of access by outsiders. The term is used in contrast to public networks, such as the Internet, but uses the same technology based on the Internet protocol suite.
23 Culottes, derived from the French word culot, which means the lower half of a thing, are knee length trousers that are cut to very closely resemble a skirt. In Bearthwaite the cut is so full as to render them indistinguishable from a skirt which meets the local custom that women and girls do not wear trousers. Culottes are mostly worn by girls rather than women for reasons of warmth and or modesty where a long skirt is considered not desirable as here.
24 Наташа Охлопкова, Natasha Okhlopkova. Natasha, IPA Nataʃa, Nɐtæʃə, Nətæʃə, Nətɑʃə. All the preceding variants are used. Though the most common form in the north of the UK where Bearthwaite is located is probably Nataʃa with three hard short vowels, as in cat, Na ta sha. Охлопкова, IPA oʊχlɐpkoʊva, oh chu lop koh va.
25 Тампоны, tamponnee. IPA tampɐni: plural, tampons. Тампон, tampon. IPA tampɐn, singular.
26 Папочка, Daddy, Papochka, IPA papəʊtʃka. Папa, Dad, Papa, IPA papa.
27 Mama, Mummy and Mum, IPA mama.
28 Cutlery, most commonly used term in UK English for items one eats with. Also, eating irons which is informal or slang. KFS, knife fork spoon usually a military usage. In the US silverware or flatware are more often used.
29 Crockery, most commonly used term in UK English for ceramic, occasionally glass, that one eats off or out off. Plates, dishes, cups, and other similar items, especially ones made of earthenware or china.
30 Девочка, deer voch ka, literally Girl, usually used for someone less than say fourteen. The meaning is in the way an English person would address the girl as ‘child’. IPA diərvɐtʃka.
31 Дa Спасибо, yes thank you. Da spasibo, IPA da spa:ʒi:boʊ.
32 Ping, a single electronic signal of short duration that can be located.
33 Víðir, Vee th ear, the th as in then, IPA vi:ðir.
34 Fjäll, pronounced fuh yell, IPA fᴧjɛl.
35 Þorbjörn, pronounced Thore bu yurn, Th as in thin. IPA θɔrbjœrn.
36 Sǫgur, plural of the Old Norse word saga. A saga being that which is said or recited. Pronounced Sorgur. IPA sɔ:gə:r.
37 Spiked, drugged.
38 Ingaþeerdís, pronounced Ing a theer dees, th as in thin. IPA iŋaθiərdi:s.
39 NHS, the National Health Service
