CHAPTER 44
Bodies surfaced, and Jim took a turn in the kitchen with Mam to make sure the breakfasts flowed. Larinda eyed me critically.

“You do know you will be on lettuce leaves and water for the next two months, after this?”

“I can’t say no to my dear mother, can I?”

She stuck her head through the serving hatch. “Didn’t stop ye when ye were a bairn, did it?”

Outnumbered. We were soon on the road in Jim’s people carrier, once more sweeping past the Angel of the North on the approach to what had been the Scotswood Bridge. There had been a short but sharp argument between Rachel and Neil about shoe styles, and she had been persuaded in the end to take some flats, on the basis that sitting drinking a coffee while the rest of us walked out would be antisocial. In the end, it was Jim who sorted the argument.

“Aye, they’re canny shoes, like, why not keep them for tonight?”

The old Rachel peeked out, as her head went back and her folded arms lifted her breasts.

“You asking me back for coffee, then, Northern oik?”

“Whey, ah thowt ye’d aal be back, like, for a pint after. I keep a few bits of drink at my place, like”

John was right. She did make him smile, and as I watched my friend I knew for sure that it went both ways. Slowly, Rachel…

Over the Tyne, and out on the A69 as far as Heddon, the first bits of Wall showing up in the oddest urban spots, before our switchback over the main road onto the Military Road and the climb out of the valley. Small talk, wide views, and the Vallum ditch starting to show to the left. Rachel had ended up sat next to John, and they were soon deep in conversation about what was what, and why. John surprised me with his knowledge, and he caught my look.

“What? I was a squaddy, and it’s military engineering, aye? See, Rach, all that crap about a wall to keep the Scots out, it’s rubbish. Same people both sides, like, so what it was was a chain of signal towers and small forts to protect the communications across the Tyne Gap. The important thing here was the road, not the Wall”

There was a grin, and I almost saw the bully of my youth. “We’re quite proud of our local tribe. The Briganti; same word as ‘brigand’, says all ye need to know, aye?”

Down into Chollerford, up the other side and there it was, as I always dreamt in my moments of homesickness: the ground slanting in tilted plates, their steep edges to the North, skies immense above.

“Jim, can we have a stop by Brocolitia?”

“Aye, er, Jill, how far?”

“Next car-park, after the Carraw, aye?”

The wind was strong as we stepped out, but it was warm enough, and I led the way round the edges of the turf banks that marked the old Roman fort, the ground sweeping down and away to the South, round and across to the tiny rectangular remains of a soldier’s comfort, the temple to Mithras. I left it to John to explain, which he did with gusto, and mused on how odd the old Empire was. If they liked it, they swallowed it; religions, customs, dress, foods, and yet remained forever themselves, even in some odd part of the far North, where their soldiers, who were largely French in this area, had built a temple to a Persian deity while worshipping a Roman emperor. It chimed with me as I looked at Will, who was clearly enthralled by the place. Would that his mother could show some of that acceptance.

John called out to his brother. “How, Jim! Norma here can’t walk too far, aye, so how about we pop up te Winshields car park? Then we can have a bite at Twice Brewed”

He looked over to me again. “Look, I spent a long, long time coming up here, aye? Place to think, place to try and work out what I was”

Larinda smiled at that. “Like that cave on the beach, Jill? Marsden, yeah? John, she used to ride out there, she told me, make a little fire and watch the waves, yeah? Same sort of thing, innit?”

John nodded. “Aye, sort of. You’ll see what I used to do, like. Keep your eyes to the right, that’s Sycamore Gap coming up. From that shite film with that bloke with no chin, Costner, aye? Never did fancy him, and he was shite at Robin. Gets off a boat in Sussex and five minutes later he’s here talking to Morgan what’s-his-face”

I had to rewind those last few sentences. My lover, casually using pronouns for me that I had once only dreamt of hearing. My school bully, talking about men he fancied or didn’t with no hesitation to his speech. John clearly noticed.

“Aye, Jill. Spent a long, long while trying to work out what I was, fish or fowl, like, and when it came to it, I thought, whey, if I’m a fish I better start swimming. I think your lass here is a bit like me. If you spend all your life waiting for something better on your plate, you end up starving. That right, Larinda?”

Mam interrupted, calling back from her Seat up front. “Aye, John, and that’s what I thowt as well. My flesh, my child, you never throw that away if you’re a mother…sorry, Will, I didn’t think, like”

He sighed. “Sorry not needed, Mrs Carter. What’ll happen will happen, and John here, yeah, he shows me it can work. John…did you have problems, you know, at home, when people found out sort of thing?”

John twitched slightly. “A bit, at first, like, settled down quite quick, ye knaa”

There was a rumble of laughter from his brother.

“Aye, especially after ye brock Geordie Bell’s nose!”

That set me off, and John joined in the laughter. “I hear ye had a little chat with him too, Jill?”

Suddenly, there was a wave of silliness in the car as Neil launched into a truly awful version of the Randy Crawford song, “You might kneed somebody”, as I am certain he wanted me to hear it, and we swept into the car park only for it to die abruptly as my family and friends caught the view, and their breath, at the same time. Peel Crags, Sycamore Gap, Crag Lough and its cliffs, and the line of the Wall marching above the black depths as small white clouds swept across a sky the size of Australia. Larinda took my hand, as Rachel reached forward to squeeze my shoulder.

“Fucking magic…sorry, Norma, but it is! I mean, the ride up was pretty, but this is gorgeous!”

“Aye, Rachel. My Rob used to bring me up here, when we were courting, aye? Always seemed to be raining back then…but he had a bike, with a sidecar, and, well, we…sorry”

Neil went round and opened her door, held his mother for as long as it took to settle her, then helped her down onto the tarmac as the rest of us stepped out, and I took my place ate her other side, and she took a hand each.

“No, you two, not the place to mourn, aye? Celebrate, even if it’s wi’ a bit cry. He did well, thy Dad, he gave me two bonny bairns, three if ye count thy brother, so let’s have the good bits, aye? Now, I will have mesel a bit tab, while the rest of ye go for a walk out and get me some pictures, aye?”

We walked out across the grass as she sat with Neil in the front of the car, and it was all I remembered, and more, as I shared it with people that I knew mattered to me and who I knew cared for me in turn. John showed us the routes he had climbed on the cliffs over the still pool of Crag Lough, and curlews wailed overhead. Jim took Rachel’s hand, and John just winked at me before whispering “She makes him smile, I said, and I like that”

I was surprised a second or two later, when Will took my free hand.

“Thanks again. Sounds silly, but all of this, the sky, you people; I think life might just end up being good after all, yeah?”

I gave him my best grin. “Seems OK from here, lad! How, I think it’s dinner time, aye?”

We wandered back to the car park, as school parties crested the ridge and tourists snapped pictures of themselves beside THAT tree, to find Mam serene in the car, as befitted her status, and Neil dozing in the lee of the wall. She smiled at me, and there was contentment there.

“Dinner, then? My treat”

There was a swirl of argument, based on the fact that she was doing everything else, and she just held up her hands for silence.

“I am not talking about a full meal, because I will NOT be slaving away this after if ye have all pigged yoursels out here! A sandwich, bit cake mebbes, aye? Then back hyem”

And lunch…Jim muttering almost quietly enough to himself. “Could de wi a decent cellarman, this place, like” as Rachel snorted and squeezed his leg.

We were fish, it seemed, and we were finding out how to swim.