Free THE CINDER PATH by Yelena Kopylova

I'm old in me head as well as in me
    body."
    He said again, "Thanks, Fanny." He did not
    ask himself how she knew about the present situation,
    she had ears and was softfooted for all her years.
    TCP 4
    In the doorway of the byres he looked at Arnold
    Dawson, who was brushing the muck through the trough that bordered the line of stalls, and he called to him,
    saying, "Would you come to the barn in ten minutes, Arnold? I'd ... I'd like to have a word with you."
    Arnold Dawson leant on the head of his brush
    for a moment and stared at Charlie, and then he said,
    "Yes, aye, yes, Mister Charlie, I'll be
    there. In ten minutes you say?"
    "Yes, Arnold."
    "I'll be there."
    As he crossed the yard towards the barn Ginger
    Slater came out from the horse-room. The boy
    stopped and looked at him. His expression was no
    longer a frightened one, his hangdog air had gone; in
    fact there was a cockiness about him. But Charlie did
    not notice the change in the boy, and he said to him,
    "Find Arthur and come to the barn, I ... I want
    to have a word with you."
    Ginger didn't say, "Yes, master", or
    "Yes, Mister Charlie", but he turned away and went through the passage that led to the cinder path. . , .
    It was a quarter of an hour later when the two men
    and the two boys assembled in the
    barn. They stood in a rough half-circle and
    looked at their mistress's son, for in each of their
    minds it was the mistress who was the boss now. And
    Charlie, vitally aware of this, asked himself how he was to begin? The idea born of the unusual outburst of
    anger his mother had evoked had seemed good, easy.
    He would talk to the hands, to tell them that he was now master and ask for their help. But here they were standing staring at him, two men older than his father had been, and
    Arthur and Ginger only a year younger than himself yet
    years older in experience He'd have to say something,
    start somewhere. But how?
    "You wanted to have a word with us, Mister Charlie?"
    Fred Ryton's voice was kindly.
    "Yes. Yes, Fred." Thankfully he turned
    to the shepherd and, his tongue loosened now, he went
    on hastily, almost gabbling, "I . . I just want
    to say that I'm not returning to school, I ... I
    intend to work the farm myself, that is"-his eyes swept the four of them now-"with your help." He gave a shaky laugh. "I know I'll need help for ... as
    I said to you, Fred, during the last holiday, at
    calfmg, you remember? I said I didn't think
    I
    was cut out for a farmer. And you agreed with me then. But now-was He straightened his slumped shoulders, rubbed
    his hand tightly over his chin on which the bristles were few and far between, then ended, "Well, I mean to have a shot at it."
    There was what seemed to Charlie an endless silence
    before the cowman spoke.
    "You'll find it different from booklearning, lad."
    Charlie brought his eyes to those of Arnold
    Dawson and his reply was surprisingly curt now.
    "I'm aware of that, Arnold, but my education, what little I've had, won't, I hope, be a
    drawback to me managing my own affairs."
    They all stared at him blankly now. This
    wasn't the gangling young lad they all knew, the
    lad who couldn't bear to see a cow heaving in labour
    and didn't appreciate that she would be well
    recompensed with the first lick of her calf; the lad who had been known to release a rabbit from a trap when it
    was caught only by the foot; the lad who stood
    mooning on the hills looking into the distance like some loony, or walked out before dawn to see the sun
    rise, and came back sodden wet with dew, which landed
    him in bed for a
    week. At different times over the years they had had
    cause to think he was a bit funny in the head the
    things he did, but the young fellow talking to them now didn't sound like someone funny in the head. It could have been his father speaking, that is if ever his father had spoken civilly to a human being,
    Arnold and Fred almost spoke together; then Fred,
    giving way to the older man, waited while Arnold
    Dawson