The Fleethaven Trilogy

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn—’ her grandfather was saying, but his admonishment was lost as Rob trod hard on the kickstart and the engine leapt into life once more.

  The bike roared along the Point road. Ella was exhilarated, sharing the thrill of high speed, the feel of Rob’s jacket against her cheek, the warmth of his body close to hers while the wind streamed through their hair, biting their faces. On the outskirts of town, he slowed down and turned in a circle, saying over his shoulder, ‘Best not get caught, else ya grandpa’ll be proved right.’

  Ella laughed, the wind whipping away her words. Back along the Point road, leaning to left and right as the road curved, she followed his lead, fearless even when the bike seemed to drop so low they must surely keel over.

  When they came to the junction in the lane, he turned to the right and took the road inland towards Rookery Farm, but they roared past the farm gate and on up the lane towards the Grange.

  ‘Let’s go and show the Souters, eh?’ he shouted to her.

  Behind his back, Ella pulled a face; she was enjoying there being just the two of them, but the boy in the young man wanted to show off his new toy to their friends.

  During the last five years, the four of them had gone everywhere together. They had played together, gone to school together and, as time passed, had gone out together, to the cinema and parties, to the funfair on the sea-front in Lynthorpe in the summer, but always in a foursome, never pairing off into two by two. Just lately, however, Ella had the feeling that Janice was once again becoming possessive over Rob. Whereas Ella was still a tomboy, still happiest in trousers and a T-shirt, Janice pored over the fashion magazines and was forever cutting and sewing her clothes in an effort to copy the latest vogue. She still had long hair but twisted it up into all sorts of styles, a different one each day.

  They roared along the lane, past Rookery Farm, skirted the deserted Grange and took the road that led south-westwards towards the Souters’ Farm.

  As he pulled into the yard, a mangy dog began barking.

  ‘Keep that thing away from me,’ Ella muttered, as she slid from the pillion seat. ‘Else I’ll start sneezing my head off.’ She looked around her. She rarely came to the Souters’ Farm; it always seemed as if Janice and Jimmy came to them, to Rookery Farm or even to Brumbys’. Usually they congregated at Rob’s home; Aunty Rosie was much more welcoming than either Mrs Souter or Ella’s grandmother.

  The place looked just the same as always: the yard of Souters’ Farm was littered with all manner of implements and bits of machinery, most of it in rusting heaps. Hens wandered freely about the yard, scratching and pecking and making that call peculiar to the domestic hen which always sounded to Ella as if they were complaining.

  Mrs Souter came to the back door. ‘Shuddup,’ she yelled at the dog, which immediately ceased barking, dropped its head and slunk back towards its dilapidated kennel, casting doleful eyes at the woman.

  ‘Hello, you two. Looking for our Jimmy?’ The woman was middle-aged, but looked years older. Her grey hair was lank and greasy-looking and her wrap-around apron was permanently stained around her ribs where she constantly wiped her grimy hands. A cigarette hung from the corner of her mouth and she screwed up her eyes against the drifting smoke.

  ‘Hello, Mrs S,’ Rob shouted in greeting. ‘Yeah, is he here?’

  The woman sniffed, removed the cigarette from her mouth, passed the back of her hand across her nose and then replaced the cigarette. ‘Naw. Gone gallivanting into town . . .’

  Ella almost giggled aloud. It was what her grandmother might have said too.

  ‘. . . and our Janice. Dolled up to the nines. Be gettin’ ’ersen into trouble, that one. I keeps warning her. But does she tek any notice?’

  She sniffed again. ‘Still,’ she added, her glance flitting between them, ‘she’ll not be the first from these parts, nor the last, I reckon. Though I’ve telled her if she brings trouble to this door I’ll chuck her out.’ And now her glance came to rest upon Ella. ‘Aye, an’ that’s been done ’afore, hereabouts.’

  ‘Right you are, Mrs S,’ Rob said cheerily, and turned back towards his motorcycle. ‘Come on, Ella, we’ll see if we can find ’em.’

  ‘If ya do,’ the woman’s shrill voice came after them, ‘ya can tell our Janice to be in by ten, else I’ll scutch ’er backside for ’er.’

  As the bike throbbed into life again, scattering the hens, Rob called over his shoulder. ‘We’ll tek the back road to town, but hang on. It’s twisty.’

  Ella, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, clung to him as the bike leant over, first to the left then to the right as Rob negotiated the corners of the winding lane.

  They were in open countryside with fields on either side, heading towards the main road that would take them into Lynthorpe when, rounding a corner, the machine, leaning heavily over, began to slide on some loose gravel at the edge of the lane. The wheels slipped from under them and they slid helplessly towards the grass verge. When the wheels hit the edge, they were both thrown from the bike, Ella to land on the grass, but Rob towards a gatepost.

  Ella heard a thump and a yell and then, as the engine spluttered and died, there was silence.

  ‘Rob – Rob!’ Ella scrambled to her feet and rushed to where he lay at the foot of the post, clutching his stomach.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t see.’

  For several moments, he could not speak. The breath had been knocked from his body and he was panting and groaning at the same time. At last he gasped, ‘I – landed – up against the – gatepost.’

  ‘Oh no!’

  He was rolling in agony. But the fact that he was moving was a good sign, she told herself. Practical in an emergency, she said, ‘Do you think you’ve broken anything?’

  He shook his head but his face was screwed up with pain. ‘No, just ripped me guts to bits.’

  She looked down then, half expecting to see blood gushing from his stomach. ‘Let’s see.’

  ‘No – no,’ he stuttered and, still doubled up, tried to roll over on to his knees. He stayed in a kneeling position, but bending forward. ‘Are you hurt?’

  Ella looked down at herself. ‘Only grazed me leg a bit.’ She pulled a face and added, ‘And a rip in my trousers that’ll please Gran no end. I’m all right, it’s you. Come on.’

  ‘You – go. Get away.’

  ‘Go? Whatever for? I’m not leaving you here like this.’

  He flapped his hand at her. ‘If – anyone comes. A policeman – or – or anyone. I’ll get done.’

  ‘What for? Having an accident?’

  ‘No – no.’ Every word was a gasping agony. ‘For ’aving you on the back.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, as realization of what her grandfather had meant dawned and again she said, ‘Oh, yes.’ Then she thought a bit and added, ‘But I’m still not going, so there. If anyone comes along they won’t know I was on the back, now will they?’

  He groaned. ‘Bit obvious, in’t it? Out here, miles from anywhere.’

  Ella shrugged. ‘They couldn’t prove it. Come on,’ she said, holding out her hand. ‘Let’s get you up.’

  ‘Ooh-er,’ he moaned. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to walk straight again.’

  Ella glanced around her. The walls of Rookery Farm blinked white in the sunlight only a couple of fields away but it was over a mile round by the road. ‘Shall I fetch your dad? He might bring the car round for you.’

  Rob began to laugh and then found it too painful. ‘Ouch! No, he won’t. He’ll only say it serves me right.’

  Ella smiled wryly, imagining that her grandmother and possibly even her grandfather too, on this occasion, would say the same.

  ‘Come on, then,’ she said. ‘We’ll have to walk.’

  She went towards the bike and pulled it upright, stronger than her thin frame looked. ‘I’ll push your precious bike for you.’

  He snorted and then grimaced with pain. ‘Precious? Huh, I do
n’t care if I never see the bloody thing again.’

  ‘It wasn’t the bike’s fault now, was it?’ she chided him reasonably and smiled at him. ‘Besides, you’ll feel differently in a day or two.’

  As he hauled himself gingerly to his feet, gasping with every movement, and began to walk, bent over like an old man of ninety, Ella wondered whether perhaps he really meant what he said.

  It took more than a few days for Rob to want to look at his bike. He spent three days in bed and, as they had both predicted, got not a scrap of sympathy from anyone.

  ‘Well, I didn’t want him to have a motorbike anyway,’ Rosie said. ‘They’re dangerous. But it was his dad encouraged him. Like a couple of kids, they are, with machines. And your grandad’s no better.’ Rosie wagged her finger at Ella.

  Ella pulled a face but said nothing. This time even her grandad had been stern. ‘I told you not to go on the pillion. You hear me, Ella? You keep off that bike till he’s passed his test properly.’

  Ella hung her head and averted her eyes, but made no promise; she didn’t like making promises she had no intention of keeping.

  Nineteen

  Through the latter half of May and into June came the exams. Rob and Ella sat a few desks away from each other in the school hall, the hot sun streaming through the long windows. Afterwards, they met to discuss the papers and rejoice or commiserate in turn.

  ‘It’s a relief to get out at night and into the fields to help with the haymaking,’ Rob muttered. ‘All this swotting isn’t really my scene.’

  ‘You want to go on to college, though, don’t you?’ Ella teased.

  ‘That’s different. That’s farming.’

  ‘Oh, you!’ she said, and punched him playfully on the shoulder.

  A week later, he said, ‘We’re all off up the coffee bar in town to celebrate the end of exams. You coming?’

  ‘Right then. I’ll ask Grandpa.’

  Ella was getting crafty now. She had found that if she asked her grandfather first and he said yes then her grandmother, though she might not agree, never counter-manded his approval.

  Ella put her head on one side and regarded Rob. ‘Can I have a lift, though?’

  He pulled a face. ‘Not right into town. I don’t take my test till next week and I don’t want to get caught.’

  ‘That’s okay. Drop me off at the end of the Point Road and I’ll walk the rest.’

  He looked doubtful. ‘It’s a long way right into town even from there.’

  She threw back her head and laughed. ‘I’ve got used to it now. It’s a long time since I was able to hop on a bus just when I want.’

  ‘See you later, then,’ he said, and kick started the motorbike, the engine throbbing in the quietness of the countryside. She leant on the gate and watched him ride away, the noise of the bike’s engine audible all the way to Rookery Farm. She smiled fondly and then sighed. Oh, but he was good-looking; with his black hair slicked back now with Brylcreem and the black blazer he wore with shiny brass buttons. Dark brown eyes and always a big grin on his face, he was still the merry, friendly lad he had always been. No wonder all the girls were after him.

  She glanced down at herself and sighed. And no wonder the boys weren’t after her. She was always dressed in a check shirt and trousers. Her hair, though curly, was still cut very short and she hadn’t the money to experiment with make-up like Janice did. But then, Janice was earning. When Ella had suggested that she might take a Saturday job in the summer, helping out in a candy-floss stall in the amusement park on the sea-front, Esther’s reply had been the same as always. ‘Ya needed here.’

  Ella turned from the gate and glanced across the flat expanse of fields towards Rookery Farm remembering what Grandma Eland had told her. ‘Ya gran was treated like a skivvy when she was a young lass until she walked out and came here.’

  As if on cue her grandmother’s voice sounded across the yard. ‘Come on, Missy. ’Ave ya nothing better to do than stand there day-dreaming? There’s the butter-making to do.’

  Ella looked at the woman, still remarkably slim, standing in the doorway. Left home, had she? And at about my age, Ella mused. Just walked out and left her home and family. Ella screwed up her mouth thoughtfully. One day, she thought, I might just do the same.

  ‘I know your little game, Missy. Always asking ya grandpa first so’s I can’t say no. I weren’t born yesterday. Well, ya can go this time but in future you ask me. You hear?’

  Ella faced her. ‘Why are you so against me having even a bit of fun? It’s not as if I’m always asking to go out. Once a week at the most. Rob goes out nearly every night.’

  ‘Then more fool his mam and dad for letting him.’

  ‘Why? Where’s the harm?’

  ‘Ya’ll come to no good. Staying out till all hours.’

  ‘Ten o’clock? All hours? Oh, Gran, really! Why, Janice Souter stays out till midnight and—’

  Esther wagged her finger in Ella’s face. ‘Dun’t give me that. The Souters’ way of going on is nowt to be bragging about.’

  Ella stared back at her grandmother. ‘Well, Mrs Souter tries to stop her, but she can’t manage it. Janice stays out anyway.’

  ‘Well, dun’t you think you can try that with me, Missy.’

  Esther turned away, satisfied to have made her point, complacent that Ella would not dare to disobey her, so she did not see the narrowing of the girl’s eyes and the scheming look on her face.

  ‘Where are we going, then?’ Ella leant back in her chair and smiled at the other three as they stared at her in amazement.

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Didn’t you ought to be getting home? It’s quarter to ten, y’know.’ This from Rob whilst Ella saw the slow smile spreading across Janice’s face.

  ‘At last!’ the girl murmured. ‘I wondered just how long it would take you to rebel against the old biddy.’

  ‘What? What are you on about?’ Jimmy, confused, glanced from one to the other.

  ‘She’s going to stay out – late!’ Janice said in a stage-whisper.

  ‘Has ya gran said ya can?’ Rob asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then come on,’ he said, pushing the empty espresso coffee cup away from him and getting up, ‘I’m taking you home.’

  Janice laughed. ‘Go on, Ella, be a devil and stay out late. Real late. Till at least eleven!’

  ‘Shut it, Janice,’ Rob said evenly. ‘I’m helping with haymaking at Brumbys’. I dun’t want me ears boxed by ’er gran when I get there tomorrow.’

  ‘I reckon you’re as frightened of that old witch as she is.’

  ‘I’m not frightened of her,’ Ella shot back, ‘but I just don’t want her stopping me going out altogether.’

  ‘Exactly!’ Janice laughed. ‘My mother couldn’t stop me if she wanted to. See what I mean?’

  ‘Come on, Ella. Let’s go,’ Rob said.

  ‘I – I’m not coming.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you are.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  Janice, a gleeful expression on her face, glanced backwards and forwards from one to the other. ‘This is better than a pantomime,’ she murmured, whilst Jimmy just muttered, ‘I wish someone would tell me what the heck is going on.’

  ‘Look, Ella, dun’t be daft,’ Rob tried to reason. ‘If ya mek ya gran real mad, she’ll stop ya coming out at all.’

  ‘I reckon she’s going to anyway. She’s threatened as much tonight.’

  He sat down heavily beside her again and spread his hands trying to reason with her. ‘Look, you’ll only make matters worse. At the moment ya grandpa’s on your side, but if you stay out late, then you’ll lose his support an’ all.’

  ‘So? If that happens then I’ll leave. I’ll walk out. Just like she did when she was my age.’

  ‘Run away, ya mean?’ Jimmy said, catching on at last.

  ‘Where’d you run to?’ Janice’s tone was disbelieving.

  ‘Back to Lincoln,’ Ella said promptly. ‘Back to live with my
aunty Peggy.’

  Janice blinked, nonplussed. She had not expected such a confident answer; one that had obviously already been thought out. ‘Well, if ya do go, let me know, ’cos I’ll come with ya.’

  Slowly Rob shook his head and let out his breath, which he seemed to have been holding. ‘Well, it’s up to you,’ he said, getting up again. ‘But I want no part of it. I like ya gran. I always have. And there’s no way I’m going to help you upset her. So, night-night, all. I’m off home. See ya.’

  ‘Hey,’ Ella called after him, standing up suddenly and knocking the table, causing the coffee still left in the cups to slosh from side to side. ‘Wait a minute! How’m I supposed to get home if you go now?’

  From the doorway he turned back, raised his hand in farewell and shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘That’s your problem. If you’re such a big girl now that you can defy ya gran and stay out till all hours—’

  ‘You even sound like her!’ Ella flared back at him.

  He took no notice but went on, ‘Then ya big enough to find ya own way home.’

  Whistling loudly, he went through the door, letting it swing to behind him, and walked across the pavement to his motorbike propped up near the kerb. She watched as he bent and lifted his crash helmet and gloves from one of the red wooden panniers on either side at the rear of the bike. Pulling them on, he threw his right leg over the bike and eased it up off its stand.

  ‘Oh, damn!’ she muttered crossly. ‘I’ll have to go. I’ll get stranded if I don’t.’

  ‘I thought you’d give in,’ Janice smirked. ‘Poor old Cinder-Ella! Even she stayed till the clock struck twelve.’

  ‘He’s going, El,’ Jimmy put in and Ella snatched up her bag and ran for the door.

  ‘Rob – wait! Rob!’

  Someone had put a coin in the juke-box and the voice of Bill Haley reverberated through the coffee bar, drowning her words. She pulled open the door and ran out into the street.