THE FERALS


By Tessa Harvey


His dad was lifting him back down when the house door opened and a plump older lady bustled out, wearing a dress, wrap-around apron and a big, beaming smile.

Her greeting was so welcoming that Jake forgot to be amused by her old-fashioned style of dress!

"Hello, folks, like a cuppa and some hot chocolate for the lar' lad?"

Jake hesitated, but then agreed. The lady walked back to the house, taking off her "pinny" (apron).

He remembered grandad saying lar' meant 'little' locally. Their host glanced again at Jake and her eyes widened, "You're never Jim Tyson's lad?!"
"He's my grandad," was the bemused reply.

"Why, you're the spittin' image," affirmed the old lady, beaming even more widely.
"Come right in and bring the wee man."

Brodie was staring at her, his mouth open. The lady teased him a little about catching flies, but she was so jolly, the boy did not mind. Soon she was bringing out hot, baked biscuits, apples, carrot sticks and hot drinks. Looking at Jake shrewdly, she guessed he would probably like coffee? He agreed.

Soon they were all chatting in a warm convivial atmosphere.

When Brodie was nearly full, Mrs. Clarkson (Ethel) produced a delicious-looking Christmas cake. Reindeer galloped over snowy drifts of icing, a sleigh dragging a jovial Santa swerving around miniature fir trees.

Man and boy felt overwhelmed, unused to such kindness, but Ethel assured them she had plenty. "Eat up, me hearties," she cried, endearing herself to Brodie. He loved pirate talk.

No-one had welcomed them like this for a very long time. The relatives they had visited had been welcoming and polite, but their own sadness had made relaxing virtually impossible.

Lost in his own pain, Jake had accepted this, but seeing his son blossom under such a motherly touch, his own grief was banished, at least for a while.

Ethel produced a basket of children's toys and the two adults chatted companionably. 

It wasn't long before Jake felt he could share the reason for his visit here, apart from tracing his grandfather's footsteps. Ethel was horrified to hear where they were staying. "Why, it's so near the beck!" [Northern English: river or stream], she cried, "so cold and damp and gloomy. And," she added, "I know who owns them houses. You'll be paying a fortune!"

Hesitating a little, Jake remarked that it costs a lot to live these days. "Yes," was the answer, "but I've got an idea." 

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