Skipdoll

By Colin Reed

Jade Marie lives on a farm with her mother and father. Tom, the farmhand, is the only other, almost permanent, person who is usually around. She is in her last year at school, and the future doesn't hold much hope for her. Relationships have become increasingly strained, and her father, especially, had begun to have little to do with her. She loves the outdoors where she can escape into the fields, with only the animals as her companions, and spends much time in her own company. Falling deeper into herself, she steadily increases her isolation from others.
At school, she doesn't fare much better, as the difficulties of her home life are affecting her ability to foster good friendships. Her natural aloofness is the subject of much ridicule by the Tuesday Boys, the miscreants of the class, but is considered with curiosity and compassion by a single admirer, whose attentions she feels unable to return.
While walking back from the village with her mother, one, early Spring evening, she finds a doll that had been carelessly abandoned in a builders' skip. Retrieving it, she takes it home, and is convinced that it was instrumental in saving both her own and her mother's life by the river bank, as a brief, but vicious rainstorm took part of the precarious path away.
The doll, which she calls Skipdoll, becomes her best friend and, from that day, events which take place in her life, and which are often threatening, could be explained by the presence of the doll, as all events or their solutions, could be traced back to it.
In the moment of perhaps her deepest despair, the reasons for the strained relationships at home are revealed to her, leaving her with the potential to turn her life around to a happy one, if she has the skills to do so.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Colin Reed
• Release date: Dec 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311025784

Colin Reed

From Blackpool Uk. Am beyond 65yrs old now. Not had a career, but have had plenty of different jobs at different social levels. I enjoyed being an archaeologist and my self-employment in building work, as well as a short spell as a toymaker. Educated at state school, private religious boarding school and also on the streets of Europe. Married to Barbara, we have two sons, and three grandchildren.

Book preview

Chapter 28 Hope Blossoms Fresh

Endpieces

CHAPTER 1

Footfall

There was a great, uncontrolled purpose in the sound of the heavy footsteps that thundered across the cobbled courtyard towards the backdoor of the farmhouse. Jade Marie Newgard knew they were her father's.

A brief sense of panic and alarm shot through her. The Newgard household was changing. She didn't how and she didn't know why, but it was not changing for the better. Her father would barge through the backdoor at any moment, and there was little time for her to get out of the way. In a single, swift movement, she threw the slender frame of her fifteen year old body below the level of the kitchen table. Her green jacket, hanging loosely across the back of the dining chair, and which oozed the sweet smell of cow dung from many a cleaning out job, gave her extra cover. She hoped that, in her haste to conceal herself, not a single hair of her tight, blonde curls could be seen above the table, nor a centimetre of her well used and distressed trainers, would be poking out beyond the chair on the worn, linoleum floor. She prayed that, in his rage, he would storm through the kitchen, and the anger in his purpose would blind his eyes to any possibility of picking her out.

She had had her back to the window, and the noisy rumbling of the electric kettle on the worktop, had obscured any sound from the outside until it was almost upon her. The thick slice of crusty bread with its generous covering of butter and jam that she was eating in her right hand, was swiftly wedged between her teeth. The fingers of her left hand, which had been busily engaged in texting her friend, Daffodil, instead gripped her mobile tightly. They both had to be ignored for now.

In the dread moment before the event, all her emotions and feelings were put on hold, and not a muscle in her body was able to move.

The thunder reached a crescendo as it arrived outside the kitchen door, but it didn't stop, it just changed its tone as the top, opening half of the kitchen door was hurled violently open and was sent crashing against the wall, making an open wound in the plaster. A large hand, swollen by hard, physical work, reached in to undo the lock that was holding the bottom half of the door in the frame and that part of the door too, was sent hurtling against to the same wall. It bounced back into the huge frame of the farmer as he entered, and it was immediately sent back to the wall from where it had just come, as he continued his violent assault into the house.

His wild, angry eyes were focussed forwards, and had no interest in the kitchen into which he had stepped. The large frame, covered in soiled work clothes and large wellington boots, revealed thick arms upon which sweat and grime glistened in the electric light. The sleeves of a brown shirt covered in a grey body warmer, gripped his powerful biceps tightly. In his forty years he still sported a full complement of hair, and a large head supported on a thick neck, controlled a physically powerful man.

The momentum of his entrance took him through into the living room without stopping, even to remove his soiled boots.

'Why didn't you pick up those shell bearings from Greasy Norman's like I asked you to!?' he bellowed, sending his wrath into the dining room beyond, where Jade Marie had left her mother doing the accounts. Though Jade Marie was relieved that the anger was not meant for her, her relief was quickly replaced by a fear for her mother. She heard her reply in a quiet and faltering voice which was tinted with a certain amount of fear.

'Oh …. er …. no ….. I meant to go back for them … but I had to go and get the ingredients for Jade Marie's cooking lesson,' replied the voice, taken aback by the surprise entrance of her husband. It was not a voice of defiance, but one looking for an excuse in between defiance and contrite apology, in order to gauge the extent of his anger.

But Jade Marie didn't hear any more. Her coat was already on her back, covering her slight, slender frame. She was momentarily deaf to the screams and shouts of her parents as she flew through the door, which had not closed properly. The crust of bread was still in her mouth, and her mobile, with its unfinished text, stuffed deep into her pocket. Buttoning up her jacket as she went, she ran over the uneven surface of the courtyard, jumping only over the larger puddles created by the heavy, showery rain, and not bothering about the little ones. Her feet splashed through those. She kept running, past the family car, parked awkwardly at an angle to the house wall. She scattered the free ranging hens before her, and the geese ran ahead of her until they could escape round the corner and into an open field. They gaggled fiercely and menacingly as they went.

Benchie, the patchy, brown and white Jack Russell, her constant companion alerted by the alarm of the geese, came running up to see what all the fuss was about and joined in Jade Marie's flight, thinking it was a game that she was playing especially for him. He ran with her, jumping up at her excitedly, but Jade Marie ignored him, dismissing him with, 'Benchie, I'm not playing any games at the moment,' and she just kept running and running and running down the track until she had reached the tubular, barred gate to the field. She wanted to go on, and on and on but the fields were wet and sticky and she wasn't properly dressed, with only light shoes on feet that were nevertheless well used to walking and climbing. She paused at the gate and leant her arms upon the cold, damp metal. The mist was thick and, with the onset of a fine drizzle, she paused for a moment only, in order to collect both her thoughts and her breath. The mist came down thickly again and quickly obscured the lane and the fences that lined it on either side, except for the first few metres. She felt trapped in a moment of time in which she imagined there was no way forward and also no way back. Benchie had by now got the message that it was not a time for games, and largely left her alone. He busied himself by scurrying here and there, sniffing at anything he could find to investigate at the grassy edge to the lane by the fence, but he never wandered far from her side.

Jade Marie needed someone to talk to before she screamed out her despair into the mist, as if there may be a listening, sympathetic ear somewhere within its dense obscurity. But there was no answer, and the cold and the damp and the silent mist did not make good company. She stayed only a few minutes before she left. She would seek out Lame Jenny, the Friesian cow, her best and dearest soul mate on the farm and in a few moments with her, she could offload a pile of anxiety. She turned, and slowly made her way back towards the shelter of the farm buildings.

Taking the long route around the back of some of the outbuildings, she made for the cow byre, and immediately she was met with Lame Jenny, easily recognisable to anyone who didn't know her personally by the large black patch around each eye. There was recognition in these eyes as if she had been waiting for her, and had manoeuvred herself to the front of the group of cows in order to greet her as soon as she arrived. Everyone knew her as Lame Jenny and, if Benchie was her constant companion, Lame Jenny was her trusted confidante.

Lame Jenny always seemed to understand her moods. When she was happy she always seemed to smile with her, when she was sad, she would offer a deep sympathy with her kind and calming eyes, which spoke with animal kindness and an almost human understanding. It was only if she was in a bad or selfish mood that Lame Jenny would deliberately ignore her, or rebuke her with a stern look of disdain before turning away. She was a placid cow who, despite her limp, never complained, and consistently returned the best delivery of milk of which she imagined the younger cows should have been forever envious. Jade Marie wanted to be as placid and stoical as her favourite cow, but the energies and anxieties of her youth would not let her. Her moods were up and down like a bungee jumper in full bounce, and she often walked the fields sometimes just to burn off the excess energies that would not let her settle.

She stroked Jenny's nose.' I wish I could be like you Jenny. Why do you never complain? You know so much more than I do, don't you?' Jenny continued chewing, and looked at her with eyes that invited her troubled mind into the calming influence of their long suffering and patient knowledge. 'My father's in a bad mood again. I don't know why he's changed so much these days. He used to be a nice man, but not anymore,' she regretted. Lame Jenny looked back at her as if to convey to her in a silent, cow language, that all would be well in the end. Jade Marie forced a smile through her despair, and felt sorry for Lame Jenny. 'Never mind, it'll be springtime soon and you'll be able to get out into the fields. You'll not be cooped up in here, day in and day out.'

The rain suddenly arrived in a torrent out of the mist and swirled in between the byre and the barn, making sure that anyone or anything that got in its way would get a good soaking. Jade Marie patted Jenny on the nose. 'I'm getting wet here, Jenny. I'm going to find somewhere to shelter. I'll see you later!' and she rushed off with Benchie in tow, who had stopped sniffing for rodents and joined her in the quest for shelter. It was only a few steps to the Dutch barn where there was still a good supply of hay packed into oblong bales and stacked like blocks, one on top of the other. Some of the bales had been removed from the front, and it created a natural stairway to the top, and it was five bales high at the point at which Jade Marie approached. At the top, she jumped down onto the lower bales on the inside where, quite by chance it seemed that the way the bales had been removed, a small hole had been left in which a person could lie down and be out of the view of anyone passing. She was now out of the rain, and the wind couldn't reach her either. This place was ideal for a snug until the fracas in the house had died down and it would be safe to move out again. Sitting with her back against the far bale, she stretched out her legs and made herself comfortable, but Benchie carried on sniffing excitedly. Something had caught his attention and after a couple of growls and a little bit of extra effort, he pulled out a piece of white cotton material from between two bales, and presented it to her.

'What's this Benchie? What have you found?' She took it off him and he wagged his tail, expecting at least a little bit of praise. She patted him on the head. 'OK. Thank you. What is it?' She opened it up and found it to be a small, ladies handkerchief with the letter D embroidered upon it in one corner in red cotton. She was mildly curious. 'There's no-one with the initial D on this farm Benchie is there? I don't know whose it could be,' and then a realisation came to her and she fell into a fit of giggles. The few minutes of conversation she had had with Lame Jenny had lightened her mood, 'It might belong to one of Tom's girlfriends!' She cupped her hands and covered her face in a show of mock embarrassment. Her giggles came to an abrupt stop as she heard the familiar whistling of Tom the farmhand approaching from the tractor shed on the far side of the barn. She went deadly silent and put her finger to her lips to indicate to Benchie to do the same. She decided she would go out and surprise him since the rain had lessened to a fine drizzle again.

He had his back to her as she jumped off the last bale and onto the track, and he strode slowly and deliberately along in his Wellington boots. He was a good few years younger than her father but, from the back, the crown of his head showed the initial signs of maturing age that were slowly reducing the amount of fine, curly black hair on the crown to expose a small patch of weather beaten scalp which very rarely saw a hat upon it even in the coldest of weather.

He was shorter than her father, but just as well supplied with strong legs and arms. Occasionally, the hot weather had been kind enough to her to show off his torso, which was strongly built, and the muscles of his arms would ripple as he was baling the hay onto the trailer in the hot, summer months. He walked with a slow and deliberate gait that Jade Marie thought would give him the ability to walk through anything that got in his way. His green jacket was only held close by the zip at the bottom to reveal an open necked, checked shirt. He had been mucking out the milking sheds and smelled of the sweet odour of dung. But behind the dishevelled and smelly clothes lived a warm and generous heart which always had a smile for her.

Like her father, he was a tireless worker. She had never seen him without a wrench or a shovel or a pitch fork in his hands or, if he wasn't covered in manure, he was covered in oil as he was forever mending the machinery. He was often to be seen bending over one the engines, immersed in oil and grease. Unlike her father in his present moods, Tom did not appear to have the care of the world upon his shoulders. And unlike her father, Tom always had a smile and a compliment, and a word of encouragement for her whenever he saw her.

Benchie ran up to him and spoiled the game of surprise that she was about to play on him. Hearing the approaching patter of Benchie's feet upon the hard surface, he turned around, because he always knew that if Benchie was there, then Jade Marie would not usually be very far away.

'What are you doing outside in this weather? It's not a day for being outside.' Tom always looked at Jade Marie as if he knew something that she didn't, as if she couldn't be party to the secrets of the universe without him knowing everything first. It often annoyed her because there was nothing she could know, without him knowing it first. But that's the only fault she could find with him. She always enjoyed the warmth of his conversation, and the respect she felt she received from him.

'Mum and Dad are shouting at each other again so I've come out for a bit of peace,' she said in a matter-of-fact way, as if it was inevitable. Tom looked at her as if to say, 'Yes, I know they have rows, and I know they're having a row at this very minute, but this is what happens,' and the confidence which streamed so generously from his eyes explained further, 'but there will be a solution. I know that, and so should you. Don't worry.' Such encouragement cheered Jade Marie up because she needed a seed of hope to massage her imagination. But the conversation between the two did not have time to get under way, for the large form of her father suddenly appeared from behind the wall of the building and he greeted Tom with a heartiness reserved for friends who you think only know the best parts of you, and are ignorant of the faults.

'You, Jade Marie,' he said, addressing her in a much more impersonal way than he had greeted Tom, because he knew that his daughter knew the real father and there was nothing he could hide from her, so there was no need to pretend, 'I want you to go with your mother to the village. 'Hurry up, she's nearly ready to leave.' She glanced at Tom, who looked uncharacteristically surprised and disappointed that she had had to leave so soon. She said nothing, but turned around and hurried off towards the house.

CHAPTER 2

Settlement Cracks

The rain had stopped and the mist had cleared quite dramatically, and the light was such that it showed off the house in vivid, almost unreal colours. Jade Marie's few words with Tom had been cut short by the arrival of her father. She often needed a few moments with the animals, or occasionally a friendly word with Tom and she'd been left short of both just now. Her father treated her very impersonally these days, as if she wasn't his daughter anymore, but someone else on the farm, and she had begun to feel alone and isolated. Everything that she had been led to believe was solid and reliable, couldn't be entirely trusted anymore. Deep in thought, she turned into the courtyard and looking up, she noticed a crack appear in the house wall in front to her. It began at the bottom and, in an instant, it had zigzagged its way up from the kitchen doorway to the bottom of her bedroom window, and as soon as it touched her window sill, it made its way down again in exactly the same manner as it made its way up. It remained for a few seconds before disappearing from her vision. She was alarmed, and paused for a moment, thinking she was imagining things at first, but despite all her best efforts to prevent it, something fearsome inside her was telling her that it was true.

As she approached the house she could see her mother through the open top half of the back door. She had her coat on and was looking out for her, impatiently fidgeting about and looking very agitated. She was tall and slim and Jade Marie expected to be like her at her age as she had many of her characteristics. The small, round head with a face of soft features that were almost chubby, was surrounded by a shock of natural, blonde curls, which occasionally annoyed them both, for it restricted a choice in styles that they might have wanted to adopt.

Her mother had recently become over-conscious of any extra poundage that might have hitched a ride onto her body. Recently Jade Marie had noticed that she took a lot more care in her appearance, subtly so, than she had in the recent past. A little bit of dirt on her clothes, a splash, a minor crease or a wayward curl of her hair, were removed with a diligence that perhaps only Jade Marie had noticed.

Her brown eyes were a little bit red round the sockets when she got up to her, and there had been an attempt to cover up with some rather careless make-up, which was unusual for her mother because it bucked the recent trend of precision in her dress sense and presentation.

'Oh, there you are Jade Marie. We've got to go to Greasy Norman's to get these things for your father.' She, had spoken with a marked lack of confidence, as if she was trying to conceal the fact that all was not well at the moment.

'What things?'

'I think they call them shell bearings.'

'For the tractor?'

'Yes, I think so.' Her mother was matter-of-fact. There was no life in her voice. It was as if a sense of guilt obliged her to make the unscheduled journey into the village.

'Are we going in the car?'

'No, it's better if we walk. We should be back before dark.'

Though Jade Marie thought it unusual that they weren't going in the car, especially when it was so late in the afternoon, and the rain could return and soak them at any time, she liked a walk. She spent hours wandering about the fields, visiting her favourite spots, entirely alone in the strength and privacy of her own company. 'OK. I'll go and put my boots on.' She didn't delay since she could see her mother was under duress. It was a quick journey up the stairs to her bedroom two steps at a time, and she flung herself into her room because she didn't want to keep her mother waiting. As she threw her light jacket onto the floor, and reached for her raincoat at the back of the door, the room was suddenly lit up from the window as the late and low, afternoon sun made a surprise though brief, appearance. A small patch of sky had suddenly cleared and there was nothing to block out the light of the sun, which rushed through the gap with great enthusiasm. Out of the window, like a picture frame, the hills in the distance were revealed in all their mysterious glory. Solid and reliable, they had been there almost since before time itself, and Jade Marie longed to go there. There was never any time on the farm for either of her parents to take her, and their mysteries remained unsolved and tantalising, to fuel her curiosity each time she looked into the distance. Her mother was a little flustered when Jade Marie returned downstairs. Quick as she thought she had been, it still didn't appear quick enough for her mother.

'Come on. We'll have to step on it.' Jade Marie couldn't understand her urgency, since it was only a short walk into the village. It shouldn't take more than half an hour to get there at a casual pace, even with a shorter route down by the river bank.

Her mother hustled her out of the door. She was more agitated than usual, but she didn't seem upset at all, as if rows were normal and the world resumed normal service as soon as they were over. They walked down the track and through the five-barred gate and, because it squeaked as they opened and shut it, it was an invitation for Benchie to join them. He hurtled in from nowhere more like a greyhound than a Jack Russell, expecting a long and exciting walk but Jade Marie sent him back. 'I'm sorry Benchie, you can't come along. We're going into the village on an errand, and we haven't got the lead with us.' Benchie tried to object, but picked up the finality in Jade Marie's tone, and knew that it was no use trying to force his way along. He barked a bit to acknowledge, and then proceeded to sniff the grassy edge for anything that was worth sniffing, and put any ideas of a good walk entirely out of his thoughts.

Through the gate, the path turned right and kept next to the fence. It was a well-trodden path, but it was sticky and muddy due to the recent wet spell. They walked in single file by the hedge, keeping to the well-used part of the path, and they only occasional got wet when an overhanging branch sprinkled them with rainwater as they brushed past. Having reached the Green Lane at the end of the field they could walk side by side. The surface was much firmer here and it made walking quickly much easier, and there was enough space to walk around the frequent puddles. The sun had briefly forced its way out from behind a cloud again, and lit up the distant landscape, though it remained dull around the farm. From here, the hills once more could be clearly seen as if there was a spotlight directed at them which ignored the rest of the landscape that it didn't seem to find important.

'Can we go to the hills one day Mum?' They were still as clear in the distance as in the unusually bright light that had come uninvited to her bedroom.

'You know we never have time on the farm to take holidays. There's always something to do, especially in Summer time when most people take their holidays.'

'Have they been there forever?' Jade Marie thought out loud. Her mother turned and gave her a curious look.

'Of course they've been there forever. What makes you say that?'

'Oh, nothing. I suppose if they've been there forever and they're going to stay there forever more, it might mean that I have a chance of going there some day.' Her mother detected the evident despair in her voice.

'Well you know that's not very kind. Your father will tell you he has worked hard on the farm ever since your grandfather died. We all have. I know things aren't going well at the moment and it's getting to your father, but we all have to pull together.' Jade Marie didn't reply. She had been rebuked by her usually all-forgiving mother, and who, up to now, had always been on her side. She didn't know whether to feel sorry for herself or feel guilty that she ever doubted her mother's judgement, but they were soon at the end of the Green Lane and they emerged on to the road into the village.

Immediately, anything else that could have been said about the hills or the farm, or anything relevant or significant, was erased by the sighting of Fred Brumby. His car was parked in a lay-by, and he was walking his Yorkshire terrier just a bit further along the road and a short distance from the car, and that was the most exercise the little dog ever got. Jade Marie looked at him, and could see him looking furtively at them, pretending he couldn't see them. To Jade Marie, Fred Brumby was a loathsome creature. But not because he walked with a stoop and his shoulders were so rounded that they nearly met in the middle of his chest. He wore the same clothes day in and day out, and in her lifetime, Jade Marie could swear that had never seen him change them. A dirty, yellowy-brown jacket which extended to his knees, was worn over brown cords, the leg ends of which were crumpled up over his faded and soiled, black, leather shoes like concertinas.

Even in Summer it was unusual to see him without a jacket on, and in winter and inclement weather like today, he would have the hood of his coat over his head, so that the only feature of his bespectacled face that could be seen was the long sharp nose. He was a