by Val Wood
He gave a deep sigh and his face was etched with pain.
‘Don’t say any more, Matt,’ she pleaded. ‘Not now. Leave it.’
‘No. It’s best if it’s out, then I can forget it.’ As they reached the horses he put his hand on Sorrel’s neck and gently stroked him. ‘Cannon shot brought down a blazing mast. I was beneath it, but Parson White pushed me away. It hit him and knocked him clean into the water.’ He closed his eyes for a second as if remembering. ‘He was a brave man, Annie, as was Greg Sheppard. The country should be proud of such men. I’ll never forget them.’
Annie felt her eyes fill with tears at the sadness Matt must feel for the loss of his friends, they had paid back tenfold for their previous misdemeanours, and she gave thanks that Matt at least had come safely home.
He turned and reached out to take her once more in his arms. He smoothed her hair and smiled and she saw the creases of pain that only time would eradicate. ‘I love you so much Annie. It has been so long since I held you like this – kissed you,’ he kissed her on each wet cheek, ‘made love to you. I was beginning to feel that you were lost to me forever.’
He looked up beyond the hillside, beyond the woods, towards Staveley Park. ‘And now I want to see my son. He will have forgotten me, won’t he?’ he asked with anguish written in his eyes. ‘He met me only once. He won’t know this stranger.’
She shook her head. ‘Your father and I speak of you every day, and I remind him constantly of the day we saw you at the quayside; the day we were married.’
Jed had been sent out to look for her. They’d been anxious when they couldn’t find her, he said, as he rode towards them. He touched his hat to Matt and said. ‘Good day, Mayster Matt. Tha’s back, I see.’
Matt laughed and put out his hand to shake the servant’s. ‘Yes, Jed. I’m back, as long ago you said I would be.’
The old man nodded, his voice was gruff. ‘Aye. I was reet about thee, but wrong about Mayster Toby.’ He blinked his watery eyes, then raised his whip and pointed. ‘They’re sending out another search party, ma’am. Here’s Squire and Mayster Harry come looking.’
At the top of the dale Henry Linton on his horse with Harry by his side on his pony, were riding towards them.
‘He’s old enough to ride?’ Matt gasped. ‘My son!’
Annie wiped her eyes on her shawl. ‘He’s seven, Matt. Go on, go on. You’ve a lot of catching up to do.’
She watched from Sorrel’s back, as Matt cantered towards the two riders and then saw Henry Linton as he recognized his son, suddenly goad his horse forward. They both leapt from their mounts as they reached the other and with swift steps flung their arms around each other.
Harry watched the two men and then pulling on Whisper cantered towards Annie who was riding to meet him. ‘Mamma. Who—? Is that—? Is that my father come home at last?’
Annie jumped down from Sorrel and lifted him down. ‘Yes, my darling. It is.’
Conclusion
Before a final curtain can be drawn over Annie’s life, it is necessary to pass swiftly over intervening years; the years in which her happiness with Matt was almost complete. Almost, but not quite, for when a life is happy, time passes without awareness; but for Annie, at the birth of each of her sons, Tobias, Edward and Joshua, she was aware of a small pocket of emptiness deep inside her which never went away. As Matt gazed proudly and lovingly at each of these small beings, she thought each time of her other children.
Of her lost sons the memory faded, they became shadowy and distant as she was surrounded by her growing boys, but Lizzie’s pale timid face and large blue eyes, were still as bright in her memory as ever. And she would lie in her bed and listen to the slow tick of the clock and sense the dark shadow of a dead man descend on her. Only when Matt was there could she be comforted, when he held her in his arms and whispered that Lizzie would understand.
When Bonaparte turned his gaze on the shores of England, Matt took a commission as a lieutenant in the Sea Fencibles under the command of Lord Keith. This force was to be a last line of defence against invasion and made up of volunteers, mainly naval men and fishermen who would be protected against unjustified impressment.
‘I’m not needed here, Annie, not whilst Father is still master; but I can be useful along this coastline. Nelson favours this scheme though others are against it. And,’ he said, taking her hand in an effort to convince her, ‘it means that I shan’t be far away from you.’ He smiled and kissed her tenderly, ‘I know too, that you are safe here with Father and Harry and the boys. And by the time this war is over, Father will be ready to hand over the reins to me.’
So she had to let him go to Nelson, who it seemed needed him more than she did, and they exchanged a secret smile when Matt was told that one of his duties was to assist the coastal signal officers and the revenue men, and wondered if he would come across his old enemy Roxton.
It was at this time that Annie realized that she was no longer needed at the drapery shop in York, that her commitment to the running of the business was so small as to be neglible and that Robin and Rose would dearly like to buy it for themselves.
‘You deserve to have it, Robin, you have done so well here. I kept it on all these years as an act of defiance, because it was something which belonged to Harry and me that couldn’t be taken from us, and I knew that Henry Linton didn’t approve.’ She gave a warm smile. ‘But he and I have both changed and neither of us have to prove our worth to each other any more. And Harry! Why he’s not in the least bit interested in fashion or cloth; he’d rather be knee-deep in barley or sheep wash! I’ll write to Mr Blythe and ask him to draw up the necessary papers and you can take down the name of Hope.’
But Robin insisted on keeping the name. ‘Without hope, Annie, life isn’t worth a button. We’ll keep it to remind us of how things used to be.’ And so the sign above the renowned drapery and haberdashery establishment became Sampson, Hope and Deane.
The disbandment of the Fencibles, Henry Linton’s mild stroke and yet another pregnancy came within the same year. Matt would now be home for good, to run the estate with Harry while Henry Linton contentedly watched his grandchildren at play.
Matt ran his hands gently over her swelling abdomen. ‘If this is another son, Annie, we shall scare the wits from our enemies. We can start our own army or navy with the manpower we have here. Four sons,’ he whispered in the darkness, ‘yet, I would dearly love a daughter to spoil.’
And so she gave him a daughter. Elizabeth. But she would let no-one call her Lizzie. ‘You can call her Elizabeth or Eliza or Beth,’ she said softly as she lay exhausted with the tiny baby in her arms. ‘But not Lizzie, for I have one Lizzie already.’
And she whispered to the child when they were alone. ‘I’m happy, Elizabeth, but only as happy as I can ever be, for whenever I feel a joy welling up, like today, something always reminds me that I’m not allowed complete happiness. That I don’t deserve it.’
* * *
‘I’ve decided to go to Hull tomorrow, Matt.’ She had made up her mind, calmly and deliberately. Elizabeth was two, she and the other children could be left with the nursery maid, the governess and with Polly in over all charge. She would take Joan with her for company and Grigson would drive them.
‘But, I wanted to come with you, Annie, and you know that we’ve arranged for old Blythe to come tomorrow. Harry and I must both be here.’ Matt looked at her in dismay. ‘Leave it a while longer. You mustn’t go alone.’
She shook her head. ‘I must, Matt. I have to.’
He was anxious, agitated, and she stretched out her hand to him. ‘I must face this alone, Matt, and if I don’t go now, my love, I’ll never go.’
He took both her hands in his and kissed them, and held them against his lips. ‘I don’t want you to go. I’m so afraid, Annie. So afraid that you won’t come back.’
‘What? Matt! Not come back? Why would I not come back?’ It was her turn now to be afraid. ‘Matt? You don’t think—?’ S
he started to shake. ‘The law won’t be waiting—, will it? Not after all this time?’
He shook his head and soothed her. ‘No. No. Not that. There’ll be no-one who will remember. No, it’s just—! I am selfish I know, but, it’s just that I have a terrible foreboding that if you find your other family, then you’ll stay with them and won’t come back to us—, to me.’
She stared aghast. How could he think such a thing? How could she leave her children, her home, her husband whom she loved? She saw pain in his eyes and sorrow, but something more—, could she see doubt?
Comprehension hit her like a blow and she understood the reason for his distress. Had he always been unsure of her? Had this lack of faith been constantly hovering within his mind? Twice in her life she had run away. Once from circumstances which even now she hardly dare contemplate, and had left her young family behind. And once she had run away from Matt, taking away from him the opportunity of deciding himself about the role of fatherhood and depriving him of Harry’s early years.
‘You have to trust me, Matt,’ she whispered. She reached to touch his face and saw a few silver strands in his sideburns and beard. ‘What can I say to convince you? I can only tell you that I love you. With my dying breath I will love you, and my children. I will come back to you.’ She shuddered as the black shadow descended on her once more. ‘Unless Fate takes a hand and keeps me from my promise.’
* * *
At the last minute she decided to take Tobias with her too, he was a mischeivous ten year old, with eyes as dark as the uncle he was named after, and as much exuberance, and was quite likely to cause complete havoc without her watchful eye on him.
She gave him strict instructions now as she left him at the Cross Keys inn with Joan, that provided he was on his best behaviour, then he could visit the quayside to look at the ships until she came back from her errand.
She had made enquiries from the landlord of the inn to ascertain if the shipping firm of Masterson was still there. If Will Foster still lived in Hull, then his old company might know of his whereabouts. If I find him, then I’ll find Lizzie and my lads.
The town looked different, she thought, as she made her way across to the High Street. There were new streets and buidings, although some of the old landmarks were still there. King Billy’s still here; she looked back down the Market Place and caught the gleam of gold from the equestrian statue, they haven’t got rid of him.
Her steps slowed as she reached the narrow High Street, so many memories came flooding back and she wasn’t sure if she could cope with the answers which her questions might bring.
This old street hadn’t changed at all, unlike the rest of the town, except that some of the merchants’ houses had been converted into business premises. The residents have moved away from the stink, she thought. It’s still there, the clinging, odorous smell of boiling blubber.
There was a sign up at the front door, Masterson and Rayner, but after a moment’s hesitation, she turned away and walked down the side of the building, down the staith which led to the river Hull.
‘Can I help thee, ma’am?’ A youth came out of the yard gate. ‘Are you lost?’
‘Lost?’ she answered vaguely. ‘I’m not sure. I think I might be.’
‘Well, this lane leads to ’Old Harbour, tha’ll not want to be down here. Where does tha want to be?’
‘I’m looking for Mr Masterson or Mr Rayner.’ Her words came out automatically. There, it’s done, she thought dully, the die is cast. Let Fate do what it will.
The youth nodded. ‘There’s only Mr Rayner now. Mr Masterson died a while back. If you’ll come with me,’ he politely doffed his cap. ‘I’ll ask if he’s free.’
She followed him through the yard and waited in a small room just inside the door. She felt as if she was trapped in time as she waited while he went in search of John Rayner. Along with the stench of blubber and seed oil and the acrid smoke of the charnel houses, she could smell the Humber and with it a faint tang of the sea. Gulls screeched over the river Hull, which ran alongside the High Street, and which she noticed, the boy still called by its old name, the Old Harbour, which once had been the only harbour for the whalers and trading ships of the world and which even now, she had seen, was crowded with shipping unloading onto the staith side.
‘Can I help you? I understand you are looking for me.’
Annie swung round at the voice. It was John Rayner, Masterson’s nephew. Gone was the good-looking young man that she remembered from long ago and a mature, handsome man stood in his place. He stroked his fair curly beard thoughtfully as he observed her.
‘Mr Rayner, you won’t remember me,’ she began nervously. ‘My name is Mrs Linton. My husband is Captain Linton of Staveley Park.’
Don’t give too much away too soon, Annie. She began to feel sick with apprehension. I shouldn’t have come alone. I should have waited for Matt.
He gave her a courteous bow and extended his hand for her to come inside and led her up a flight of stairs, through a room with a desk, and into a small sitting-room. He indicated that she should be seated and reached for the bell rope. ‘You’ll take a dish of tea, Mrs Linton?’
‘Thank you, no.’ She sat down apprehensively. She felt nervous and like the old Annie Swinburn she used to be, awkward and full of fear, now that she was back in the town where she had been born.
He sat down opposite her in a matching leather chair; there was a small dying fire in the grate and he bent to put on more coal.
‘What can I do for you, Mrs Linton?’ He dusted his hands together and she thought that his blue eyes narrowed for a second as he observed her.
Annie drew in a deep breath. ‘You won’t remember me, Mr Rayner, but I once lived in this town. My husband – my first husband that is—’ How I hate to even think of his name, she thought, he onny ever brought me misery and pain. ‘Alan Swinburn – he worked as boatsteerer and linesman with this company.’
John Rayner sat forward with a sudden exclamation. ‘I do remember you. I know who you are. You’re Lizzie’s mother!’
* * *
At first his questions had been sharp and direct. Accusing almost. But as she related her life, omitting her crime, telling him only that she had once been in mortal fear for her life, and had to flee, he became more compassionate and his face took on a sympathetic expression.
But when she asked how did he know her Lizzie, he smiled softly and said, ‘I have known her almost the whole of her life.’
‘And my lads? Do you know them too?’
He shook his head. ‘I regret, Mrs Linton, that your sons are dead. Your eldest boy died not long after you left, and Jimmy was lost at sea.’
She sat silently as he explained the circumstances. She had known in her heart that her sons were gone from her. Ted had been a sickly child, she always knew that he wouldn’t make old bones. And now Jimmy lay beneath the Arctic waters with his father. ‘May they rest in peace,’ she whispered.
‘Amen to that,’ John Rayner spoke softly as if not to disturb her thoughts.
She stared at him. He knows Lizzie! How does he know? ‘You know my Lizzie?’ She spoke the words out loud. ‘You know where she is?’
‘Yes.’
A deep silence gathered in the room as she waited for him to continue, although she could hear the voices of men in the yard and the rattle of wheels on the road outside.
‘How is it that you know all of this, Mr Rayner?’ She was puzzled as to this gentleman’s involvement with her family. ‘And you know of my daughter? How is that? Is she in your employ?’
A flicker of a smile touched his lips and he shook his head. ‘No, she is not. But as I said, I have known Lizzie for most of her life. She went with the Fosters and their children to a place called Monkston on the Holderness coast, where they were in my uncle’s employment. Mrs Linton, – your daughter Lizzie married Tom Foster, who is now a miller; and I married the Foster’s youngest daughter, Sarah. Lizzie is my sister-in-law.’
She felt tears flood her eyes again and she could hardly breathe she was so choked with emotion. After so many long worrying years, to know that Lizzie was alive and well and cared for. And she would be cared for, for she remembered young Tom Foster and what a grand lad he had been.
And she was a miller’s wife; not living in poverty as she had always imagined, but with status in a community! Annie’s heart almost burst. Lizzie had resiliance after all, she wasn’t now the nervous, frightened child she had once been. She had risen above the wretchedness she had known and she had done it without her mother’s help.
She took out her handkerchief again and wiped her eyes and saw John Rayner watching her. His face looked troubled.
‘I suppose you want to meet her?’ He spoke quietly, an anxious note in his voice.
‘Why, yes!’ She looked at him in surprise. ‘That is why I have come.’
‘Is that wise?’ He held her gaze. ‘It has been a long time. She is not the child she was; perhaps not the child that you are expecting her to be?’
‘I know that she is now a grown woman, of course. Perhaps she even has childre’ of her own?’
He nodded. ‘They have two sons, both healthy. She and Tom have a settled life.’
A great depression began to envelope her. It stole into her mind and body weighing her down with its heaviness. What was he trying to say?
‘Lizzie never speaks of her childhood in Hull, Mrs Linton. Not that I am aware of at any rate, though I have heard her and Tom speak of the games that they used to play at Monkston when they were children. For those who don’t know of her background, it would appear that she had spent the whole of her life at Monkston.’
Annie felt faint. ‘You’re not saying that she would deny me, her own mother?’
John Rayner took hold of her hand as if she was a child in need of comfort. ‘I’m not saying that. Lizzie is a kind, caring woman. She has found fulfilment with Tom and her family and is no longer the nervous child that she once was.’
