The Fleethaven Trilogy

by Margaret Dickinson

  Her heart began to pound. For a split second, she thought he was going to kiss her, but then, though his voice was not quite steady, he said, ‘We’d best be going back. Me dad’ll be here to fetch us home soon.’ And the moment, a precious moment, was lost.

  ‘Well, did ya enjoy yasen, then?’

  ‘Oh, Gran, it was wonderful.’ Ella clasped her hands together and twirled around the kitchen table. ‘We danced and danced. Do you know?’ She giggled, coming to a stop in front of Esther, and bending forward as if sharing a secret. ‘I think all the girls were jealous of me having Rob all to myself nearly all evening, specially Janice. You know she – she likes him, don’t you?’

  Esther was watching her granddaughter thoughtfully. ‘Does she now? And do you like him, Ella?’ she asked quietly.

  Ella opened her mouth to spill her secret and then remembered: this was her grandmother she was confiding in.

  ‘Well,’ she said carefully, ‘of course, I like him. We’ve been friends ever since I came to – to live here.’

  Slowly, Esther nodded. ‘He’s a good lad. I trust him and there’s not many young fellers I’d say that about. You stick with Rob, Ella, and you’ll not go far wrong.’

  Inwardly, the girl sighed. If only! she was thinking, but aloud she said, ‘Yes, Gran. And you shouldn’t have waited up for me. Not when you have to get up so early . . .’

  Esther gave a wry smile and wagged her finger. ‘Well, you’ll be up at normal time in the morning, Missy, else I’ll want to know the reason why.’

  Ella laughed and suddenly put her arms around her grandmother’s waist and gave her a swift hug. ‘Thank you for letting me go tonight, Gran. I had a lovely time and I will be up in the morning, I promise.’

  ‘Go on with you, Missy,’ Esther said, but she was smiling as she reached up to turn down the lamp.

  Twenty-One

  ‘We’re off to the fun-fair tonight, to celebrate leaving school.’ Both Rob and Jimmy Souter were determined to shake the classroom dust from their shoes whatever their results this time. ‘I’ll pick you up about seven on me bike.’

  ‘Ta very much.’ She grinned at him. ‘Not so much as a “would you like to come?”’

  ‘Well, ya would, wouldn’t ya?’

  Of course she wanted to go, she thought. She never missed an opportunity to be with him now if she could help it. ‘Who’s the “we”?’

  ‘You, me, Jimmy and Janice.’

  ‘Ah.’

  He bent closer. ‘You and Janice are still friends, aren’t ya?’

  ‘Ye-es,’ she said slowly, remembering Janice’s scathing attitude towards her having to be home at an early hour.

  He shrugged. ‘Well, she’s all right with me. At least she was when we went to the flicks.’

  Ella frowned. ‘You went to the pictures? Just the two of you?’

  ‘Yeah. Any law against it?’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Oh, ages ago,’ he said airily. ‘Before exams finished. I’d only got one exam the next day and that was maths. There’s not a lot you can revise for maths, is there?’

  Ella stared at him. She recalled that had been the night she’d stayed up late, bogged down with reams of history revision; the only thing that had kept her going had been the thought of Rob working hard too. And all the time he’d been out with Janice Souter.

  ‘Yes, I’ll come tonight,’ she said, mentally crossing her fingers that her grandmother would grant permission. No way was she going to allow Janice to spend another evening with Rob without her there too.

  ‘Ya can go when the evening milking’s done and not afore,’ was all Esther said, ‘and you be in by ten.’

  ‘Yes, Gran,’ Ella said, feigning meekness, though she was fuming inside, but she knew if she argued she probably wouldn’t be allowed to go at all and she needed to see for herself just what was going on between Janice and Rob.

  They wandered around the fun-fair; ate sticky pink candy floss, tried to crash each other into submission on the dodgems, clung tightly to each other on the Figure Eight and ridiculed themselves in the Hall of Mirrors.

  The clock tower on the esplanade showed five to ten when Rob said, ‘I’d better run you home, Ella.’

  Janice laughed. ‘Yeah, go on, take Cinder-Ella home, then you can come back. We’ll meet you near the pier when our Jimmy’s finished shooting everything in sight.’ They turned to watch Jimmy taking shots at a row of moving ducks at the back of a stall.

  ‘Come on, Ella. You’ll be late,’ Rob said, turning away.

  Ella frowned. ‘I’m not coming.’

  He sighed. ‘Now don’t start all that again . . .’

  She glared at him. ‘I’m not going home this early and this time I mean it.’

  He stared at her and then his lip curled and she was shocked by the look of disgust on his face.

  ‘You’re daft, then,’ he said and turned away.

  ‘Rob, where are you going?’

  ‘Well, I’m off home whether you come or not. I’ve an early start in the morning.’

  ‘Oh, what a good boy am I?’ Janice mocked and only laughed when Rob shot her a disdainful glance.

  ‘You’re no friend to encourage her. Her gran’ll be that worried—’

  ‘No, she won’t. She doesn’t care about me.’

  ‘If ya think that, then you’re more stupid than I thought ya were, Ella Hilton.’

  He turned with a gesture of impatience and walked quickly away with long, angry strides.

  ‘Oh dear me,’ said Janice mockingly. ‘I think we’ve upset him.’

  Ella was staring after him. ‘I – I never thought he’d go.’

  ‘Oh, never mind him,’ Janice said, tugging at her arm. ‘Ya’ve done it. Ya’ve really done it. I never thought you would. Come on. We’ve the whole night in front of us now.’

  Ella allowed herself to be led away, but every so often she glanced back over her shoulder half expecting, half hoping Rob would come back.

  The three of them wandered through the fun-fair mingling with the crowds. Then Janice spotted a group of youths lounging against a wall, glasses of frothy beer in their hands. She nudged Ella. ‘Which one d’ya fancy, then?’

  ‘Eh? What do you mean?’ Ella gaped at them.

  The boys were dressed in tight-fitting trousers, long jackets and narrow ties as thin as bootlaces. Their thick, crêpe-soled shoes were purple with bright pink socks.

  ‘They’re – they’re Teddy Boys,’ she gasped.

  ‘So? Come on, let’s go an’ talk to them.’

  ‘But who are they? I mean, do you know them?’

  ‘Course not. They’re holiday-makers out for a good time.’

  ‘Oh no, Janice, I don’t think—’

  ‘Well, you please yarsen.’ The girl flounced away. ‘Run home to Grannie, why don’t ya?’

  ‘Janice . . .’ Ella sighed and trailed after her friend.

  On her white high-heeled shoes, Janice swayed as she walked so that her full skirt swirled provocatively around her shapely legs. She was soon surrounded by the five lads, but Ella hung about on the fringe of the group, feeling foolish.

  ‘What d’you want to drink, darlin’?’ she heard one of them ask and, raising his voice, added, ‘and one for your friend.’

  Janice turned and beckoned Ella closer. ‘Come on, Ella. Come and meet Mike and Andrew and – er – what did you say your name was?’ She turned to another, laughing. The youth put his arm about her waist and whispered something in her ear that made Janice giggle with delight.

  ‘I think I’ll—’ Ella began, but then one of the group appeared with a tray of drinks.

  ‘Go on, drink it, it won’t hurt you,’ Janice urged, pushing a glass under her nose.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Summat to cheer you up a bit,’ Janice said.

  The group guffawed. ‘That’s it, darlin’, loosen up a bit . . .’ The laughter was louder, more raucous.

  ‘It smells funny—’ Ella began.


  ‘Oh, come on, Ella, don’t be such a baby. You’re showing me up.’

  ‘Oh, sorry, I’m sure,’ she flashed and, grabbing the glass, downed the short in one gulp, to the sound of cheering from the youths. One came over to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

  ‘That’s better, darlin’.’ His breath smelt strongly of beer. ‘’Ow about you and me going under the pier, eh? Nice and dark there, ain’t it?’

  ‘I don’t think . . .’ Ella began and glanced at Janice, but the other girl was already entwined with another of the youths, his hands running up and down her back and coming to rest on her bottom. Ella gasped as she felt the young man’s hand travel down her back to her waist and then begin to move further down, down . . .

  She twisted away, ‘No, I—’ but he caught hold of her wrist and his face, inches from her own, was menacing through the darkness.

  ‘Nar then, don’t be like that. Givin’ me the come on and then—’

  ‘I never—’

  ‘There’s names for girls like you, y’know.’ He pulled her to him and thrust his wet lips against her mouth, pressing so hard that his teeth ground against hers. He held her fast with one arm, while he shoved the other hand into the front of her blouse, grabbing her small breast and squeezing it.

  ‘Let me go!’ she cried, struggling to free herself from his grasp. Suddenly, she was afraid, very afraid.

  ‘Leave her alone,’ came a voice from the shadows.

  ‘Eh?’ The lout half turned. ‘Wha’s it got to do with you?’ he began, but found himself swung fully round, forced to release his hold on Ella.

  Now her arm was grasped by Rob’s firm grip that brooked no argument. But this time she had no intention of arguing; she didn’t know when she had last been so pleased to see anyone in her life.

  ‘Aw, want her for yerself, do yer, mate? Well, you’ve only to say. Not really my type anyway. Not enough meat in the right places.’ He sneered. ‘Yer welcome.’

  ‘What – about Janice?’ Ella gasped as Rob hustled her through the crowds.

  ‘Never mind Janice Souter. She can tek care of ’ersen.’

  ‘Well, so can I.’

  He stopped and swung her round to face him. ‘Oh, yeah? It looked like it! You stupid or what, Ella Hilton? Just what do ya think yar grannie’s going to say to this?’

  There was to be no creeping through the yard into the house and up the stairs for Ella; not with the roar of Rob’s motorbike echoing through the stillness of the night.

  ‘Are you determined to wake the whole bloomin’ neighbourhood?’ she snapped, swinging her leg over the back of his bike and marching towards the back door. As she reached it, it opened and her grandmother, hair down her back and dressed in a long, white cotton nightgown, stood silhouetted in the doorway.

  ‘And what time do you call this, Missy?’

  Ella pursed her lips and glowered, remaining mutinously silent, but she knew her face to be red with embarrassment and anger.

  Her grandmother swung round now to glare at Rob. ‘And I’m surprised at you, Rob Eland. I trusted you to bring her home and what do you do? Keep her out till all hours. Where’ve ya been, I’d like to know, until gone midnight? Up to no good. Well, ya can forget all ya gallivanting, girl. That’s the last time I let you go anywhere. Ya hear me?’

  Ella glanced at Rob: his face was bright red, his eyes dark with anguish under the tirade from the woman he so admired and, yes, loved. But he just stood there, taking it all, saying nothing to defend himself because telling the truth would give Ella away.

  Ella sighed. ‘Gran,’ she said, ‘it wasn’t Rob’s fault . . .’ and although she saw him shoot her a warning look, she went on, ‘it was mine, all mine. He would have brought me home at ten. He tried to, but I wouldn’t come.’

  Her grandmother was silent for a moment, glancing at first one and then the other. ‘That right, Boy?’

  Acutely embarrassed, Rob could only nod.

  ‘Then I’m sorry for blaming you. But, as for you . . .’ The strong, bony hand came out and gripped her shoulder, ‘I’ve more to say to you in the morning. Ya’ve not heard the last of this, not by a long way, you ’aven’t!’

  At half past five the following morning, though she could hardly force her eyes open, her head throbbed and every limb cried out to lie down and rest, Ella dragged herself from her bed, splashed herself with cold water in the bowl on her washstand and crept downstairs. Lifting the latch on the back door, she tiptoed out into the sharp morning air, the sun streaking the sky pale yellow in the east. She stood there a moment, breathing in the fresh air, trying to gather her drowsy senses.

  ‘First job,’ she murmured to herself. ‘Fetch the cows in.’

  She worked until half past eight, until the emptiness in her stomach was a growling void. Her grandpa, who had got on his tractor and headed out of the yard, had not said a word to her and when she went into the kitchen she found the breakfast table cleared and the pots washed. There was no sign of her grandmother.

  Ella tipped cereal and milk into a bowl and stood at the sink looking out of the scullery window across the yard. It was very quiet; the only sounds were the hens scratching complainingly and the beasts moving restlessly in the cowshed.

  Rinsing her bowl and spoon and leaving them on the draining board, she went back to the cowshed to herd the cows along the coastal road back to North Marsh Field. Returning, she saw her grandfather in the field of wheat examining its ripeness for harvesting.

  ‘Grandpa?’ she came up behind him.

  ‘Ella, love. You made me jump. You’re up early. Did you have a good time last night?’

  She gaped at him, but his head was bent over the waving corn. ‘Er, I was late home, Grandpa. Didn’t Gran tell you.’

  ‘No, I was asleep. Oh dear. Are you in trouble?’

  She nodded. ‘Big trouble.’ He came towards her and slipped his arm about her shoulders. His blue eyes twinkled down at her. ‘Oh dear. I’ll have a talk to her.’

  Ella smiled wanly and shook her head. ‘I don’t think even you can help this time, Grandpa.’

  To Ella’s surprise, Esther said no more on the subject, though in the days that followed she only spoke to Ella to issue orders and kept her busy from the moment she got up in the morning until she fell into bed, exhausted, at night without the desire or the energy to go out anywhere. And for several nights, a sleepy Tibby found himself yanked out of the warm and cosy straw in the barn and carted upstairs to Ella’s bed, where his weight sprawled across her feet was her only comfort.

  When the corn harvest began, Rob seemed to spend as much time on Brumbys’ Farm as he did on his own.

  ‘I’ll give you a hand, Ella,’ he would say as he appeared most afternoons. ‘I’ve telled ya grandpa to go and rest. He looks done in.’

  ‘I know.’ Ella’s blue eyes followed the tall figure of her grandfather, his shoulders stooping, as he walked across the stubble towards the gate. ‘It’s been so hot these last few days. Gran says the heat’s getting to him.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Rob sounded unconvinced, but added, ‘Let’s hope that’s all it is.’

  Ella stared at him. ‘Why? Do you think it could be something more serious?’

  The young man shrugged. ‘I dunno. I’m not a doctor.’

  ‘Well, he won’t see one and even Gran won’t make him. She still thinks you have to pay to see a doctor.’

  Rob chuckled. ‘Yeah. The old ’uns seem to live in the past, sometimes, don’t they?’

  Later, as they sat behind a stook to eat their dinner, Ella said, ‘Rob, you know we were talking a bit ago about our families being related?’

  ‘Mmm?’ he responded absently, paying more attention to the sandwich he was munching than to her.

  ‘I was in Gran’s bedroom yesterday, fetching some washing for her. I’d forgotten all about it, till I saw it again.’

  They turned towards each other and their faces were only inches apart, so close she could feel his breath
on her face. ‘Saw what again?’

  ‘You know that photo your gran has on her sideboard, that real old one of a soldier in uniform?’

  He frowned. ‘Ye-es.’

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘I dunno. I thought it were me grandad. Why?’

  ‘Because,’ she said slowly, savouring the drama of the moment, ‘my gran’s got one exactly the same on the mantelpiece in her bedroom.’

  He blinked at her. ‘Really?’

  Then he turned away and bit into his sandwich. ‘Well,’ he mumbled, his mouth full, ‘we’ll ’ave to ask ’em, then, won’t we?’

  Later, as they parked the tractor in the yard and jumped down, Rob stretched and yawned. ‘Eh, that was some day.’ He blinked, his eyes red-rimmed with tiredness. ‘I could do with a pint. Pity the pub got bombed in the war. I could just about make it to the old Seagull, but I haven’t the energy to traipse into town.’

  ‘I reckon there’s some home-made beer in the pantry.’

  ‘No, ya gran’ll be mad.’

  ‘She’ll never miss it. She’ll think Grandpa’s had it. I’ll meet you in the hayloft. We’ll be out of sight there.’

  ‘Ella, don’t—’ he began, but she was gone.

  Moments later she was carrying a flagon of Esther’s home-made beer across the yard, into the barn and up the ladder to the hayloft. It was warm and dry, with only the setting sun slanting tiny shafts of light through the ill-fitting boards.

  They nestled into the mounds of dry hay, drinking the bitter-sweet liquid.

  ‘When do you start college?’ she asked.

  ‘About a month’s time, September.’

  Ella was silent. She was going to miss him, so much more than she could ever tell him.

  ‘Will you miss me?’ she asked, making her tone deliberately flippant.