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Authors: Yelena Kopylova
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"It
wasn't her fault. You know it wasn't her
fault."
"Don't be ridiculous, boy; it takes two
to form an alliance like that. She could have said
no."
"And what would have happend then?" His head had jerked up, his words were rushing out, one after the other linked as in a chain. His voice, filling the room, startled her.
"He would have done the same as you're doing now, he would have turned them out; he would have had as much compassion for them as a mad bull. Nobody should know that better
than you. You suffered from him all your life, now
you're going to act in the same way as he did.
Well ... no, I won't have it. Big
Polly's not to blame. And Jim . . , why
Jim's on his last legs, you know that and you would talk of putting them out." He made a swift
movement with his hand as if giving someone a back
slap. "Well, you'll not do it, Mother, not as long as I'm here."
Her body was taut, her face set as if in a
mould but her voice had a control about it as she said,
"Do you know who you're talking to?" But his answer nonplussed her as it carne back quick and sharp:
"Yes, yes, Mother, I do know whom I'm talking
to. And , . , and while we're on the subject,
I would remind you-was He faltered now, swallowed
deeply in his throat but after a moment went on,
"Whether you like to face it or not. Father
left the farm to me. In all respects it... it
is
mine."
Her gaze was ice cold upon him and he was already
beginning to wilt under it, when she said, "And who, may I ask, is going to run your farm for you when you are
at school? Who is going to manage the affairs,
eh? Tell me that. Mr Big Fellow all of a
sudden."
Up till this present moment he hadn't given the
matter a moment's thought, he had taken it for
granted he would return to school and finish his
education, but in this instant he knew that his
schooldays were over, and he heard himself saying so.
"I'm going to manage it myself."
"You're going to what?"
"You heard what I said, Mother. I'm going
to manage the farm."
"Huh! Don't be an idiot, boy. You
manage the farm! You don't know the first thing about the farm. You might have been born and bred on the
place, but you've shown a distaste for it all your
days."
Perhaps it was the scorn in her voice that gave him
the courage to come back, in a voice as loud as her
own, "Perhaps the distaste wasn't so much for the farm as for the man who was running it; but. . . but now I mean to manage my farm, Mother. And I don't want
to keep repeating it, but it is my farm. and what I
don't know I'll learn. Arnold and Fred will
help me . . ."
"Arnold and Fred!" Her lip curled upwards.
"They were Dawson and Ryton in your father's time."
"Well, that being the case. Mother, and knowing that you never approved of anything Father did, I should have thought you would have welcomed the men being called by their
Christian names. Anyway, I've always known them
as Arnold and Fred; and as I said, I'm
sure they'll help me in that part of my education which has been lacking."
"Oh dear God!" She looked upwards.
"Even your phraseology is wrong. They'll
laugh at you, boy, they'll take advantage of
you. They'd take much more notice of Betty out there
than they would of you."
The gibe triggered off the distressing feeling of
embarrassment and this in turn brought the colour
flooding up to his face. She was right, they would
take more notice of Betty; he wasn't cut out
to be a farmer. He had always known that, yet here he
was assuming the position of master, and he'd make a
laughing-stock of himself. But what
else could he have done, for he knew that, even though his presence in the house might deter her from carrying out her threat, the minute he returned to school she would
throw the Bentons out.
Strange, but the Bentons were like the hand of fate
directing his life.
"Mother, the trap's ready." Betty appeared in the doorway. She, too, was dressed for the town.
As she slowly drew on her other
wasn't her fault. You know it wasn't her
fault."
"Don't be ridiculous, boy; it takes two
to form an alliance like that. She could have said
no."
"And what would have happend then?" His head had jerked up, his words were rushing out, one after the other linked as in a chain. His voice, filling the room, startled her.
"He would have done the same as you're doing now, he would have turned them out; he would have had as much compassion for them as a mad bull. Nobody should know that better
than you. You suffered from him all your life, now
you're going to act in the same way as he did.
Well ... no, I won't have it. Big
Polly's not to blame. And Jim . . , why
Jim's on his last legs, you know that and you would talk of putting them out." He made a swift
movement with his hand as if giving someone a back
slap. "Well, you'll not do it, Mother, not as long as I'm here."
Her body was taut, her face set as if in a
mould but her voice had a control about it as she said,
"Do you know who you're talking to?" But his answer nonplussed her as it carne back quick and sharp:
"Yes, yes, Mother, I do know whom I'm talking
to. And , . , and while we're on the subject,
I would remind you-was He faltered now, swallowed
deeply in his throat but after a moment went on,
"Whether you like to face it or not. Father
left the farm to me. In all respects it... it
is
mine."
Her gaze was ice cold upon him and he was already
beginning to wilt under it, when she said, "And who, may I ask, is going to run your farm for you when you are
at school? Who is going to manage the affairs,
eh? Tell me that. Mr Big Fellow all of a
sudden."
Up till this present moment he hadn't given the
matter a moment's thought, he had taken it for
granted he would return to school and finish his
education, but in this instant he knew that his
schooldays were over, and he heard himself saying so.
"I'm going to manage it myself."
"You're going to what?"
"You heard what I said, Mother. I'm going
to manage the farm."
"Huh! Don't be an idiot, boy. You
manage the farm! You don't know the first thing about the farm. You might have been born and bred on the
place, but you've shown a distaste for it all your
days."
Perhaps it was the scorn in her voice that gave him
the courage to come back, in a voice as loud as her
own, "Perhaps the distaste wasn't so much for the farm as for the man who was running it; but. . . but now I mean to manage my farm, Mother. And I don't want
to keep repeating it, but it is my farm. and what I
don't know I'll learn. Arnold and Fred will
help me . . ."
"Arnold and Fred!" Her lip curled upwards.
"They were Dawson and Ryton in your father's time."
"Well, that being the case. Mother, and knowing that you never approved of anything Father did, I should have thought you would have welcomed the men being called by their
Christian names. Anyway, I've always known them
as Arnold and Fred; and as I said, I'm
sure they'll help me in that part of my education which has been lacking."
"Oh dear God!" She looked upwards.
"Even your phraseology is wrong. They'll
laugh at you, boy, they'll take advantage of
you. They'd take much more notice of Betty out there
than they would of you."
The gibe triggered off the distressing feeling of
embarrassment and this in turn brought the colour
flooding up to his face. She was right, they would
take more notice of Betty; he wasn't cut out
to be a farmer. He had always known that, yet here he
was assuming the position of master, and he'd make a
laughing-stock of himself. But what
else could he have done, for he knew that, even though his presence in the house might deter her from carrying out her threat, the minute he returned to school she would
throw the Bentons out.
Strange, but the Bentons were like the hand of fate
directing his life.
"Mother, the trap's ready." Betty appeared in the doorway. She, too, was dressed for the town.
As she slowly drew on her other
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