The Fleethaven Trilogy

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘But, Mam, I want to . . .’ Kate began, but a look from her mother quelled her protest.

  It was Saturday afternoon and Danny might be home early from work. She had thought that helping the Maines to move would give her an excuse to go to the Point. Now she had to stay at home and play with Rosie and her two younger brothers.

  ‘I’m three months gone, Esther,’ Enid was saying quietly to Kate’s mother.

  Esther clicked her tongue against her teeth in an expression of exasperation. ‘Well, your Walter might have lost his leg in the war, Enid, but he certainly didn’t lose owt else, did he?’

  Enid snorted with laughter and clapped her hand over her mouth. For a moment the tiredness left her eyes as the two women exchanged a joke that the children could not share.

  ‘You’re having ’em a mite too fast for your health, Enid. You’re thinner than ya used to be.’

  ‘I reckon it’s livin’ in the town,’ Enid murmured. ‘I’ve never really liked it above the smithy. The smell of the forge never leaves the place.’

  At Enid’s words Kate could almost hear the sizzling of the iron and smell the burning hoof as Walter shod a horse.

  ‘Well, you’re moving back to the Point not a moment too soon to my idea, and ya’ll have ya mam nearby to keep an eye on ya.’

  ‘She can’t wait to have a brood of little ones running around again.’

  Kate watched moodily as the two women smiled at each other.

  ‘Take them into the front garden, Kate,’ her mother ordered as she drew the trap to a halt in the yard of Brumbys’ Farm. ‘But keep them away from the pond at the side of the house, mind.’

  It was early evening before Kate took the three children down the lane and over the Hump to the Point. The youngest boy had to be carried and was asleep against Kate’s shoulder by the time they arrived at the cottages. His brother dragged his feet with tiredness, but Rosie seemed to have boundless energy, running ahead of them to stand on top of the Hump shouting back, ‘Come on, oh, do come on,’ then running down the other side of the bank and across the grass towards her new home.

  Georgie and Peter Harris were lifting the last heavy box from the cart.

  ‘Now then, our Rosie. Ya’ve a little bedroom all to ya’sen. Come and see.’

  Rosie squealed with delight, clapped her hands and ran into the cottage.

  Georgie grinned at Kate. ‘’Tis only like a big cupboard, but she’ll love it.’

  Kate smiled.

  ‘’Spect ya’ve had ya hands full with these three all day,’ George continued as Enid came out to collect the boys from Kate.

  ‘Thanks ever so for having ’em, Kate,’ she said. ‘I dun’t know what we’d have done with them under us feet all day.’

  Kate opened her mouth to reply but Rosie appeared in the doorway. ‘Come and see my bedroom, Katie, it’s . . .’ she paused as her darting eyes caught sight of something beyond Kate and her rosebud mouth shaped itself into an ‘oh’ of surprise. ‘Look, look,’ she pointed. ‘There’s Danny.’

  Kate turned to follow the line of Rosie’s pointing finger to see Danny free-wheeling down the steep incline of the Hump on a bicycle, his legs sticking straight out on either side. He came rocketing on to the grass, hit a bump and promptly fell off, legs, arms and bicycle all in a heap.

  The two girls gave cries of alarm and ran towards him, while Georgie and Peter just stood and laughed.

  Kate pulled the huge bicycle away while Rosie squatted down beside Danny. He lay on the grass, his eyes closed, not moving.

  ‘He’s not dead, is he?’ Rosie whispered.

  ‘Don’t be daft, Rosie, he’s pretending.’ But a cold sliver of fear made her say sharply, ‘Danny!’

  Still he did not move. Kate flung the bicycle down again, dropped to her knees and bent over him. She took hold of his hand and chafed it. As she bent closer, Danny jerked his head up and planted a kiss on her cheek. Startled, Kate fell backwards, but Rosie shrieked with laughter. ‘He kissed you! He kissed you!’

  Rosie jumped up and began to pull at his arm. ‘Get up, Danny. I want a piggy-back.’

  Danny gave an exaggerated groan, but winked at Kate. ‘Children!’

  He made a big performance of rising, holding his back as if it pained him and bending double. Rosie giggled. ‘You’re p’tending, like Katie ses. You’re p’tending.’

  Danny’s brown eyes were full of mischief. ‘Come on then, up you get.’ Obligingly, he bent down so that the little girl could climb on to his back, her chubby arms tight around his neck.

  Danny galloped towards the cottages with Rosie bouncing up and down on his back and shrieking with laughter, leaving Kate to pick up his bicycle and wheel it after them.

  The Sunday morning of Lilian’s christening was fine and bright, but breezy. Scudding clouds made the sunlight fitful, sending shadows running across the fields of waving corn.

  ‘We’ll have tea out on the front lawn,’ her mother decided. ‘Kate, help yar dad fetch the trestle tables from the Grange. Squire said I could borrow them. Then when you come back, you must get changed and ready for church. Jonathan, are your folks going straight to the church?’

  Orders and questions came in quick succession from Esther Godfrey’s lips, scarcely allowing time for any reply. ‘When we get back from church, Kate, I want you to help me carry all the food out into the garden.’ Her mother seemed to have been baking during the whole of the previous week and now mountains of pasties and tarts, cakes and plum bread stood ready in the pantry. ‘Oh, I do hope it dun’t rain,’ Esther added, glancing anxiously at the sky.

  ‘Danny says it’s going to be fine all day.’

  Her mother’s green eyes flashed. ‘When did you see him? I told you not to go to the Point . . .’

  ‘I don’t, Mam, honest,’ Kate said reasonably, trying to pacify her mother’s quick temper. It wasn’t much use going there anyway, now he was working, but she kept these thoughts to herself. ‘Have you asked the folks from the Point to the christening?’

  ‘The Harrises and the Maines.’

  Kate looked up at her mother. ‘Not Danny and his mother and father?’ As soon as she had let the words slip from her lips, Kate could have bitten off the end of her tongue.

  ‘We dun’t have owt to do wi’ them.’

  ‘You mean you and Mrs Eland dun’t speak. Everyone else does. Dad sees mester in the pub and me an’ Danny . . .’

  ‘Aye, you and Danny, you and Danny! That’s all I seem to have heard for years.’

  ‘Why dun’t you like him now? You used to – to . . .’ Kate hesitated. Vague memories, elusive and fleeting, were nudging at her mind. ‘You used to make him welcome. When me real dad . . .’

  ‘Stop it! You hear me? I dun’t want to speak of him. ‘Specially not today.’

  ‘Why, Mam? Just tell me why?’

  Suddenly, Esther Godfrey seemed weary. She sighed and turned away, more in sadness than in anger now. ‘Dun’t ask me, Katie love, please dun’t ask me. Ya wouldn’t like the answer.’

  Five

  ‘I’m going with me grandad,’ Kate announced firmly and slipped her hand through Will Benson’s arm.

  ‘Ya grandad’s riding in the trap with me and the baby, Grannie Harris, Enid and Walter,’ Esther said. ‘It’s all arranged. The rest of you will have to walk to the church.’

  ‘What about Rosie? She can’t walk all that way.’

  ‘Enid’s bairns aren’t coming to the church, but they’ll come here after.’

  ‘Who’s looking after them?’ But Kate knew the answer almost before she asked the question.

  ‘The Elands,’ was her mother’s terse reply.

  That meant Rosie would be with Danny. Her two best friends and she could not be with them. I’d rather be playing with them, Kate thought morosely, than going to the christening of a squealing infant!

  When the whole party arrived at the church porch, two women were waiting there.

  ‘Jonathan! My dear boy.’ The
older one of the two women stretched out her arms and enveloped him.

  ‘Hello, Mother.’

  Kate watched as her stepfather succumbed to the woman’s rapturous hug and then he turned to the younger woman and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Hello, Peggy. How are you, love?’

  Jonathan Godfrey’s tone, always gentle and kindly, had an even deeper note of tenderness when he spoke to his sister, so that Kate stared at the tall, slim woman with interest.

  Introductions were made all round.

  ‘I’m so sorry your father couldn’t come, Jonathan,’ Mrs Godfrey was saying. ‘He has a wretched cold and it’s settled on his chest. He’s cough, cough, cough . . .’ She cast her eyes skywards in a gesture of resignation. ‘He keeps me awake half the night, too,’ she added, but she was smiling as she said it and there was no rancour in her tone.

  The party moved into the church and sat at the back near the font while Morning Service continued. Lilian whimpered and grizzled all the way through and when it came to the point of the christening where the vicar splashed water on to her forehead, the baby set up a loud wail that embarrassed Kate. She wished she could rush out of the church. Instead she shrank towards her grandfather, leaning against his arm, to be rewarded by him smiling down at her. Although baby Lilian was as much his grandchild as she was, Kate did not feel her place in Will Benson’s affections had been usurped by the new arrival.

  ‘Come on, me little lass,’ Will whispered as the party emerged from the church and everyone gathered around Esther and the baby, ‘let us slip away. We’ll walk back home on the beach, shall we?’

  ‘Oh yes, Grandad,’ Kate agreed eagerly, then her expression sobered as she looked down at his polished boots. ‘But won’t the sand spoil ya boots?’

  Will Benson chuckled, ‘Mebbe, mebbe so. But they’ll shine up again with a bit of elbow grease. Come on, lass, afore an argy-bargy about who’s ridin’ in the trap starts.’

  For Kate it was the best time of the whole day, her walk on the beach with her grandfather.

  As they walked at the water’s edge towards home, she could see two figures in the distance. As they drew closer, Kate could see Danny digging in the sand, while Rosie, barefoot, skipped and danced around him. She saw the child run towards the sea and then heard Rosie shriek with delight, as the waves rushed up the beach towards her. ‘Ooh, it’s cold. It’s freezin’!’ The little girl hopped about on the sand, but seconds later she was dancing towards the water once more, daring it to catch her again.

  Danny lifted his face to watch Rosie’s antics, an affectionate smile curving his mouth. He caught sight of Kate and his smile broadened. He straightened up and waved to her.

  Poised on her toes, Kate said, ‘Grandad, I’m just off to see Danny and Rosie.’

  To her surprise, her grandfather frowned. ‘I dun’t think you ought to, lass. Ya mam . . .’

  ‘I’ll not be a minute, Grandad, honest. You go on and I’ll catch you up afore you get home. You know how fast I can run.’

  The old man laughed. ‘Aye well – all right, but dun’t be long, mind?’

  But already Kate was running towards her friends.

  ‘Kate! Kate!’ Rosie squealed with delight. ‘Danny’s building me a sand-castle. Look – with a moat an’ all. When the sea comes in, it’ll go all round it. In’t he clever?’

  ‘Why don’t you collect some shells to decorate the sides of the castle, Rosie?’ Kate suggested, exchanging a glance with Danny. She had lost count of the number of sand-castles they had built together, digging deep moats and adding shells as windows and doors and turrets. Then standing and watching as the sea slowly demolished their efforts.

  As Rosie began to collect stones and shells, Kate said, ‘I can’t stay. I’ve got to help with the guests.’

  The smile on Danny’s face faded and he lowered his gaze. He resumed his digging, piling the sand higher and higher. Kate stood awkwardly for a moment, suddenly embarrassed because the Elands had not been invited to the christening.

  ‘I’ll try and get out later.’

  He shrugged his thin shoulders.

  Kate bit her lip. She badly wanted to stay and talk to him. She didn’t like Danny going quiet on her. It wasn’t like him. She glanced towards the sand-dunes. Her grandfather had disappeared. He’d be picking his way across the marsh now. Soon he’d be at Brumbys’ Farm and her mother would want to know where she was.

  ‘I wish I could stay now, but I daren’t.’

  Danny banged the back of the spade against the sides of the castle, flattening the sand. Still he would not look at her again.

  Rosie came back clutching several shells to her chest. ‘Where shall I put ’em, Danny?’

  ‘On the sides. Look – like this.’ He squatted down, and, taking a couple of the shells, he pressed them into the sand-castle.

  For a moment Kate stood watching them, feeling excluded from their game.

  ‘I’ll – see you later.’

  Danny nodded absently. ‘Yeah, see ya.’

  Kate turned and began to run, her flying feet sending up little showers of sand as she went.

  Back at Brumbys’ Farm she was set to work to help her mother cater for the party, running from house to front garden and back again so many times until sweat plastered strands of her long hair to her forehead.

  ‘So you’re Kate.’

  She was standing before Mrs Godfrey, holding out a plate piled high with plum bread. Her stepfather’s mother was very smart to Kate’s idea. She wore a loose-fitting flowery dress with a full-length coat over it, the sleeves gathered with smocking just above the wrist. From beneath her close-fitting hat, two neat brown curls peeped out. Her shoes were dainty, with pointed toes and a T-bar strap across the top of her foot. Her complexion was pale, made more so by face-powder, and red lipstick accentuated her wide mouth.

  The woman took a piece of the plum bread. ‘Is this all your mother’s baking?’ When Kate nodded, she added, ‘She’d make her fortune if she opened a shop in the High Street. What do you think, Peg?’

  Jonathan’s sister nodded. ‘It’s lovely.’

  Kate smiled at her. ‘I do like ya frock.’ She had been admiring the younger woman’s outfit ever since she had first seen Peggy and Mrs Godfrey in the church porch. The dress was low-waisted, the skirt knee-length and made in a blue silky material and was decorated with intricate embroidery. Kate longed to feel it. The cloche hat which Peggy wore, its brim almost hiding her eyes, was trimmed with flowers made out of the same material. She wore a long pearl necklace, one strand tight around her neck, the other dangling down almost to her waist.

  ‘Why, thank you, Kate,’ Peggy said in her soft voice.

  Kate couldn’t take her eyes off the two women in their finery. In comparison, her mother’s long black skirt, reaching almost to her ankles, and her crisp, white blouse seemed plain.

  ‘Peggy works in one of the big stores in the High Street,’ Mrs Godfrey was saying with an obvious note of pride in her voice. ‘She spotted this fabric when it first came in and bought a length.’

  Kate’s puzzled glance went from one to the other. Peggy smiled. ‘Mother’s a dressmaker, she made this dress and trimmed the hat.’

  Kate gasped. ‘Did you mek them flowers?’ She pointed at the hat.

  ‘Yes, dear,’ Mrs Godfrey said modestly.

  ‘They’re lovely,’ Kate said, hardly able to take her eyes from them. Her gaze dropped to the face beneath the hat. Peggy was pretty, Kate thought, with a smooth skin and a well-shaped mouth. And she was kind, like her brother, Jonathan, but sometimes when her face fell into repose and she thought no one was watching her, she seemed, to the observant Kate, to have an air of sadness about her.

  Mrs Godfrey was leaning towards Kate, smiling and nodding, ‘When you come to school in Lincoln you’ll have to come and see us and Peggy will take you shopping. There, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’ll love the bustle of the city. There’s always something going on. Not like here . . .’
The woman glanced over her shoulder across the flat farm fields and shivered slightly. ‘Whatever do you find to do here?’ she murmured, then added more briskly, ‘You’ll have such a good time. There’s the shops and the markets and the theatre and the pictures. Peggy will show you around, won’t you, Peg? You’ll love it, Kate, really you will.’

  ‘Of course you must come and see us, Kate.’ Peggy’s smile was genuine and warm. Dutifully, Kate nodded. Though she knew they meant it kindly, the talk of city life sounded a little frightening. It didn’t make her feel any happier about leaving all the things that were familiar, to go to boarding school.

  Not one jot.

  When all their guests had departed, Jonathan drove his mother and sister back into town to catch the evening train. As they made their farewells, Mrs Godfrey hugged Kate to her, enfolding her in a waft of flowery perfume.

  ‘Now, don’t forget. When you come to school in September, your Aunty Peg will come to the school and fetch you to our house for tea one Sunday.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Kate said politely, and was rewarded by one of her mother’s brilliant smiles. ‘Thank you very much.’

  ‘Isn’t Aunty Peggy married, Mam?’ Kate asked as they stood at the gate waving at the trap disappearing along the lane.

  ‘No.’

  ‘She’s ever so nice, isn’t she?’

  ‘Well, of course, she would be.’ Esther smiled, putting her arm about Kate’s shoulders as they went back towards the farmhouse. ‘She’s ya dad’s sister.’

  Kate giggled inwardly. In her mother’s eyes, any relative of Jonathan’s couldn’t help being nice.

  As they went into the scullery, they both heard Lilian’s wailing.

  ‘Oh, there she goes!’ Esther sighed. ‘And there’s all the pots to wash . . .’

  ‘I’ll do them, Mam. You go and see to her.’

  ‘You’re a good girl, Katie, I dun’t know what I’d ’ave done without you today. I’ll just feed her and then I’ll give you a hand.’

  Kate stifled a yawn. She was tired, but guessed her mother was even more weary. ‘It’s all right, Mam, I’ll manage.’ She picked up a pile of dirty plates and went through to the deep white sink in the back scullery, while her mother sat in the Windsor chair to feed Lilian. Kate would do anything to escape the sight of the baby guzzling at her mother’s overflowing breast. She would even face the mountain of washing-up single-handed to avoid seeing the tender expression on her mother’s face as she gazed down at the greedy Lilian.