The Fleethaven Trilogy

by Margaret Dickinson

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t think he’ll want to.’

  ‘Course he’ll take you,’ Esther said sharply. ‘If I ask him.’

  Ella saw the look that passed between the adults. ‘She’ll be all right with him,’ her grandmother murmured, ‘Rob’s a good lad. Can’t do any harm . . .’ There was a strange melancholy in her voice and she sighed as she added, ‘Not this time.’

  Jonathan nodded and then his work-roughened, yet still gentle, fingers rested briefly on her curls. ‘You listen to what Rob tells you, Ella. He knows the sea and its moods. The beach can be a dangerous place if the mists come up suddenly.’

  She heard her grandmother’s stifled laughter and her murmured, ‘Oh, you rogue!’ Then they reached out towards each other and, behind Ella’s back, held hands like a young courting couple. Perceptively, Ella guessed her grandfather’s words had revived a secret memory that brought an impish smile to Esther Godfrey’s mouth and excluded the young girl walking between them even more. Tired of feeling an interloper, she ducked under the loop of their joined hands, saying, ‘I’ll wait for Mum.’

  But when she turned back to look for Kate, she saw her mother and Danny walking together.

  ‘It’ll be all right for me to borrow your car on Saturday afternoon, then?’ Kate was asking.

  ‘Of course ya can. Where are you going?’

  Kate tapped his nose playfully. ‘Ask no questions . . .’

  ‘. . . told no lies,’ they both finished, laughing together, their heads bent towards each other, almost touching.

  ‘I thought you were going back tomorrow?’ he said, probing again.

  Kate’s eyes sparkled suddenly. ‘There’s been a change of plan and don’t ask me why, because I’m not telling you.’

  ‘Oh, Mum,’ Ella complained petulantly. ‘We’re not staying here any longer, are we?’

  ‘Hey.’ Danny looked down at her, feigning an expression of hurt pride. ‘Don’t you want to stay here with us?’

  Candidly the girl said, ‘If we could stay with you, yes.’ Her glance flickered meaningfully towards her grandmother.

  Danny raised his eyebrows and his mouth rounded in a silent ‘oh’.

  ‘Run and find Rob, there’s a good girl,’ Kate said, and turned back to talk to Danny.

  Ella glanced about her. Behind them, Rosie was helping Grandma Eland down the pathway back towards the waiting cars. As for her aunty Lilian, she had preceded all of them from the churchyard and was walking swiftly along the road towards a brand new car parked a little way beyond the church. The thin shoulders were hunched as she hurried along, as if she couldn’t wait to get away from this place. Ella felt ignored by everyone and she was annoyed now to think that she must spend yet another night in the horrible little room. It was no better than an attic.

  ‘Where is Rob?’ she demanded in a loud voice. Her mother and Danny turned to look at her, staring at her as if, in the space of a few moments, they had completely forgotten she was still there.

  ‘Oh – er . . .’ Danny glanced about. ‘I don’t know. He was here a minute ago . . .’

  Behind them they heard the rustle of leaves and the smack of wood on wood and Ella turned to see the boy flinging a stick up into a tree.

  Ella turned and was jumping and skipping over the graves to reach him.

  ‘Ella – Ella, don’t do that!’ Kate called.

  Then she heard her grandmother’s sharp voice. ‘Danielle Hilton! Come back here this instant.’

  But Ella pretended not to hear and ran on.

  Four

  ‘Never seen the sea!’ The boy couldn’t believe it.

  ‘So what?’ Ella retorted defensively. ‘You ever seen the city?’

  ‘Course I have.’

  ‘Have you been to the very top of the tower of the cathedral, then?’

  He stared at her, shook his head, then smirked. ‘Bet you haven’t.’

  ‘Yes, I have. So there.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Last summer, with Mum.’

  ‘I bet,’ he scoffed.

  ‘Ask her. Go on, then, ask her.’ She gripped his arm and, fury lending her strength, she dragged him towards where her mother and Danny were at the kitchen table pouring out cups of tea and handing them round.

  ‘I thought our Lilian might have come back to the house,’ Kate was murmurmg.

  ‘Couldn’t get away fast enough, could she?’ Danny replied. ‘It’s a shame for ya mam and dad.’

  ‘Mum, just tell him, will you, we went up the cathedral tower last summer. He doesn’t believe me. Tell him, Mum.’

  Kate smiled. ‘Yes, Rob. Right to the very top.’

  ‘There, I told you so,’ Ella said triumphantly. ‘I never tell lies.’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it, Missy,’ remarked her grandmother, coming into the kitchen at that moment. ‘Mind ya never do. Now then, off you go, the pair of you, and give us old ’uns a bit o’ peace. Rob, tek Ella on the beach, will ya?’ And when the boy looked disgruntled at once again being asked to ‘look after’ Ella, her grandmother, with an impish smile on her mouth, added, ‘Time we educated this townie, ain’t it?’

  As the boy laughed with her at Ella’s expense, Esther ruffled his black hair. ‘Off ya go then, Boy.’

  Ella caught her uncle Danny’s eye and, giving her a broad wink, he said, ‘Well, if Ella’s a “townie”, I reckon we’re a load o’ country bumpkins.’

  She gave him a swift, grateful smile and, grabbing a sausage roll from the table piled high with ham and tongue, pastries and cakes, and stuffing it into her mouth, followed Rob out of the back door.

  The wind whistled through the elder trees as they climbed the dunes. Pushing their way through the bushes, Ella drew her hand back quickly. ‘Ouch!’

  The boy looked round. ‘That’s a buckthorn. They’ve got very sharp prickles.’

  She glowered at him, ‘You might have said,’ she muttered, but he only grinned and went on ahead.

  There was a sudden rustle in the thick grass and a blur of grey fur scurried over her feet and bounded down the sandy slope. Ella screamed. ‘What was it?’

  ‘Only a rabbit. The sandhills are full of ’em.’

  Hugging her arms around herself, her eyes darting to left and right, they climbed to the top of the dunes. She stood and looked about her whilst Rob pointed westwards. ‘There’s yar grannie’s farm and all her land right to the river and beyond. That’s our place over there . . .’ She followed the line of his finger and saw the long low farmhouse and the farm buildings clustered around it. ‘And those chimneys ya can just see above the trees, that’s the Grange. And right over there,’ he pointed to the southwest now, ‘that’s Souters’ Farm, but it’s a bit far away to see it properly from here. My best mate, Jimmy, lives there.’

  ‘Mum said that big house is empty now,’ Ella murmured.

  ‘That’s right, but I’m going to live there one day.’

  ‘Now who’s bragging?’

  He turned his dark brown eyes upon her, his face serious. ‘Oh, I aren’t bragging, Townie. I mean it.’

  Conditioned to crueller taunts, Ella laughed. ‘All right, Country Bumpkin. I believe you.’

  Still not content that she really did believe him, Rob added, ‘I aren’t ever going to leave here. I’m going to be a farmer like me dad, and one day I’m going to buy the Grange and live in it.’

  He was gazing out across the flat wintry fields, a small smile playing on his mouth. He wasn’t being arrogant, she realized. He loved this place, his home, the land and if it was his ambition to live in the big house, then at this moment she could believe he would make it come true.

  ‘Fleethaven Point’s over there.’ He gestured, much closer now, to their left. ‘We’ll come back that way.’ He swivelled round and she followed. Now they faced eastward, but even yet she could not see the sea. Before them lay a flat expanse of marshland, a sea of green grass through which tiny rivulets meandered secretly, lying in wait for the unwary. The v
ast openness unnerved the city girl, used to noise and bustle and people. At home, even at night, there was always the distant hum of a passing vehicle, whilst here, in the tiny bedroom with its sloping roof, there was only the wind whistling around the remote farmhouse and a disconcerting rustling of birds – or worse – in the roof. Ella shivered. She felt vulnerable and knew, alone, she would soon get completely lost. But Rob, her guide, knew every inch of this marsh. It was his playground. Grudgingly she had to acknowledge that what her gran had said was true; while she was with Rob Eland, she was safe.

  ‘Come on,’ he urged her. ‘The sea’s beyond that second line of dunes. This part of the coastline keeps getting built up by the currents sweeping the sand down the coast and because we’re at the mouth of the Wash it settles here.’

  She listened, amazed at his knowledge. As they crossed the marsh, jumping the streams, he paused every so often to point out a plant or a gull soaring above them. ‘That’s a black-headed gull and that’s a common gull and that’s a great black-backed gull.’ There seemed to be a flock of birds wheeling above their heads now.

  ‘How can you tell the difference?’ she asked. ‘They all look alike to me.’

  ‘’S easy. The common gull has a grey back and no red spot on its beak, unlike the others. The black-backed gull, like its name, is black right across its back and wingspan. And there’s a red dot on its beak. I wish we’d got me dad’s binoculars with us. You’d see it then. He’s got some massive binoculars.’ Rob laughed, the sound bouncing on the breeze. ‘First time I used ’em, it brought everythin’ that close, I thought a gull was diving straight at me.’

  ‘And I suppose,’ she said sarcastically, ‘the black-headed gull has a black head.’

  ‘How very clever of you,’ he mocked her cheerfully in return. ‘Right, close ya eyes now.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I’ll take you to the top and then you can open ’em and see the sea.’

  She did as he bid and felt him grasp her elbow to steer her up to the top of the dune. Now she could hear the waves plainly.

  ‘Right, stand still. Now – open ya eyes.’

  She gasped at the sight of the vast expanse of grey water. Huge breakers came rolling towards the shore, their tips foaming white even before they reached their final roll to come crashing on to the sand.

  Ella took a step backwards. ‘I’m not going in that lot!’

  Rob laughed. ‘You should see it when the wind’s in the right direction. We get some magnificent rollers then.’ He stretched up his hand skywards. ‘Big as a house sometimes, they are.’

  Ella shuddered.

  ‘Ya dun’t get owt like that in the town, d’ya?’ he goaded.

  She turned to go back, but he said, ‘Come on, let’s go right to the edge.’

  She hesitated a moment too long, looking doubtfully at the angry sea, suddenly afraid of its power. It looked as if it could engulf her and sweep her away . . .

  Slyly he said, ‘Scaredy cat. I dare ya.’

  That did it.

  Suddenly, she found herself running across the sand towards the waves, with Rob pounding after her.

  They played ‘catch me if you can’ with the waves until Ella failed to skip out of the way quickly enough and the swiftly flowing wave caught the toes of her brown leather shoes.

  ‘That’ll ruin yar shoes. Now you’re for it.’

  Ella shrugged. ‘Mum’ll just sigh and say, “Oh, Ella,” but she’ll not get mad.’

  ‘Mebbe not. But yar grannie will,’ Rob reminded her.

  Ella snorted. ‘I don’t care what she says.’

  The boy stared at her. ‘Well, you ought to. She’s nice, your gran.’ And with that, he turned and marched away from her along the beach, leaving Ella staring after him.

  She caught up with him as he skirted round the land that formed the Point itself. As she drew level he gestured towards a long promontory of land jutting out into the sea as it swirled around the Point, and said, ‘That’s the Spit. Yar gran loves that place. She walks right along the bank and stands at the very end, just watching the sea and the sky.’

  It was obvious that her grandmother figured largely in his life, as if her very presence in this place touched the lives of all those who lived here.

  ‘Come on, I’ll show you where both my grandmas live in the cottages over there.’

  They were following the curve of the coastline and coming to the triangular piece of land which lay between the marsh, the mouth of the river and the sea. They came first to a dilapidated building, only half-standing, the rest crumbling into ruin.

  ‘What’s that place, then?’

  ‘Oh, that was the pub, the Seagull. It was bombed in the war. My grandad Eland was killed in it.’

  ‘Oh how awful!’

  ‘Me grandma Eland lives on her own in that cottage second from the far end, and me grandad and grandma Maine live in this end cottage.’ Rob was indicating a line of four cottages in front of which lay a stretch of grass and then the river which flowed into the sea and helped to form the Point which gave the place its name. He turned and looked at her. ‘Where’s your other gran live, then?’

  ‘Eh? Oh – I haven’t got one.’

  ‘Ya must have. Ya dad’s mam. Everybody’s got two.’

  Ella shook her head. ‘Well, I haven’t.’

  He was leaning closer. ‘Ain’t you got a dad?’

  ‘He was in the war.’ It was the answer she always gave, trusting to luck that it wasn’t really a lie. Nearly all the men had been in the war at the time she had been born; there was every chance he really had been in one of the services, whoever he was, she always thought bitterly, but would say no more. From her curt answer, she allowed people to guess for themselves what might have happened to him. Deliberately changing the subject, she put her head on one side and said, ‘Well, I like your gran. Shall we swap? I’ll have yours and you can have mine.’

  He laughed, but insisted, ‘She’s all right, your gran, when ya get to know her.’

  He turned and led her towards where the road rose steeply over a natural bank and dipped down the other side.

  ‘Oh,’ Ella said, as she stood on the top of the rise. ‘I know where we are now. This is the road back to town, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah. Come on, we’d best be getting back.’

  They ran down the incline and, only a short distance along the lane, they turned into the gate of Brumbys’ Farm.

  Her grandmother met them at the back door. ‘Just look at your shoes, Missy.’

  ‘It weren’t her fault, Missus. She didn’t know the salt water would mark ’em.’

  ‘Don’t try and mek excuses, Boy. She should have known better.’

  Unabashed by Esther’s tirade, Rob said, ‘She can’t help being a townie, Missus.’

  He grinned up at Esther Godfrey and she, despite her irritation, had to smile. ‘You young rogue! Why is it I can never stay mad at you for many minutes? You soon have me laughing in spite of mesen.’ She pulled the door wider open and, with one last, despairing glance at Ella’s shoes where the sea water had left an uneven white line of salt across the toes, she sighed and said, ‘Come on in and get those wet shoes off. Mebbe yar grandpa can get the stain off.’ She tutted disapprovingly as the two youngsters trooped past her into the living room where the other adults were still gathered.

  Ella’s glance went at once to her mother. She was sitting beside Danny, her head inclined towards him listening to him, her gaze upon his face, a small smile playing on her gentle mouth. He must have said something which amused them both, for they laughed softly, swaying towards each other, their heads, for a second even closer, almost touching. By her side, Ella was aware that Rob was staring at his father too, a puzzled frown creasing his young forehead. They hadn’t even noticed them enter the room until Esther said, ‘She’s ruined her good shoes, Kate. She’d be to her bed with no supper if I had owt to do wi’ it.’

  Kate looked up and held her hand out
to Ella, drawing her closer. Glancing down at her daughter’s feet, she sighed and said, ‘Oh, Ella . . .’

  Behind her, Ella heard Rob stifle a giggle as her mother, predictable as ever, had said exactly what Ella had said she would.

  The girl grinned at her mother, love for her gentleness flowing through her. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. Honest. I didn’t know it would make such a mark. I thought it’d just dry off like when I get them wet in a puddle.’

  ‘The sea’s different to rainwater puddles, love,’ Danny explained. ‘It’s the salt.’

  ‘Tek ’em off.’ Esther spoke again. ‘Put them near the range. When they’re dry, we’ll see what we can do. And if you go on the beach again, wear some rubber boots.’

  ‘Yes, Gran,’ the child said, feigning meekness and dropped her chin so that none of the adults should see the mischief in her eyes.

  ‘Grannie!’ came the sharp reminder above her bowed head.

  Ella said nothing.

  ‘We’d better be going.’ Grandma Eland levered herself up from the low chair beside the fire. Her right cheek was red with the warmth from the fire. She moved awkwardly across the room towards Esther. ‘I’m real sorry about ya dad, Esther.’

  Ella watched as her grandmother, standing by the door, said stiffly, ‘Thank you, Beth.’ The two women stared at each other and then, suddenly, Esther put out her hand and touched the other’s arm. She said again, ‘Thank you, Beth, for coming,’ and this time there was a wealth of difference in her tone that was obvious even to the ten-year-old girl, who watched the exchange. Beth Eland nodded and patted Esther’s hand and then moved on out of the room to leave, Esther following her. Those left in the room heard the murmur of their voices.

  ‘I’ll never understand those two,’ Ella heard Danny say. ‘Long as I live, I won’t.’

  ‘I don’t think they understand themselves,’ Kate said pensively. ‘But there’s so much between them, Danny. So much they can’t forget, yet they always come together when there’s trouble.’

  ‘Aye, they do,’ he said, his voice dropping so that it was almost inaudible even to Ella’s sharp ears.

  ‘What, Mum? What are you talking about?’ Ella touched her mother’s arm, to attract her attention. ‘What about Gran and Grandma Eland?’