Entrance to the Harbour

by Peters, Sue

  `The rock fall had settled overnight. If there were going to be any more immediate falls, they would have come by the morning,’ he brushed aside her thanks, ‘and I’m familiar with the cliffs, I’d know whether it was safe to go into the cottage or stay out,’ he defended his action gruffly. `Look, there’s a kittiwake, the bird my boat’s named after.’ He directed Chris’s attention out over the water, deliberately changing the subject.

  `I left my bird book in the cottage.’ Chris waited for them to catch up. ‘I’ll have to get another one when we go to Arlmouth.’

  `I didn’t notice a book,’ Dan said, ‘though I brought what I could find from your bedrooms while I was about it,’ he told Jo casually. ‘It’s lucky your luggage was still at the station,’ he remarked.

  `There’s the light—look! I can see it flashing,’ Chris called their attention excitedly to where the beam from the end of the headland swung in a regular arc, and his enthusiastic chatter saved Jo from replying. She would have found it difficult anyway. The thought that Dan had risked going into the cottage sent her cold all over. He would not have known about her mac being there at all if she had not mentioned going back for it. If he had been injured, it would have been her fault. She shivered, and cuddled closer

  into the red garment that she found she disliked more than

  ever now. She heartily wished she had bought the blue one.

  `Are you cold?’ The skipper of the Kittiwake looked as if heat and cold were alike a matter of indifference to him. The sleeves of his jersey were pushed up to the elbows despite the keen morning breeze, that had not yet mellowed to springtime warmth.

  `No, I was thinking of what Lance said about those rocks,’ she lied, unwilling to reveal her real thoughts to him. She nodded towards the line of spear-sharp points jutting cruelly from the water, and visible as they approached the end of the headland.

  `The Claw Rocks? They look even more menacing from the sea.’ Dan’s face sobered as Lance’s had done when he spoke of them, and he gazed at the jagged outcrop reflectively.

  `Then I’m glad I’m only looking at them from the land,’ Jo said fervently.

  `You’ll have to see them from the water one day.’ Julian joined them, he must have followed them out and taken his own time in catching them up. Although he walked well enough, his movements were necessarily slow. Dan looked at him in surprise.

  `Aren’t you going to the canning plant this morning?’ `Later on,’ Julian replied equably. ‘I thought I’d have a stroll first.’

  It only needs Lance to join us now, thought Jo with sudden amusement. It was obvious from the surprise evinced by each of the brothers at the other’s presence on the headland at this hour in the morning that such delinquency from their normal duties was the exception rather than the rule. Having house guests had upset the routine of the Pendericks in more ways than one, she thought with a touch of malice, and it was their own fault it had happened. She had not wanted to come. Did not want—had no intention,

  she corrected her own thoughts—of staying.

  `Have you ever been out on a fishing vessel?’ Julian asked Chris kindly, and as the boy shook his head, ‘Why not take them out with you on the Kittiwake tomorrow?’ he asked Dan. ‘The weather’s set fair, and it’s not unduly cold.’

  `Ooh, can we? D’you really mean …’ Chris could not believe his good fortune, and his face shone with anticipation.

  `Dan may not want to …’ Jo began dubiously. If Dan agreed to take them out, it would mean they would have to remain at Penderick House for another day and night longer. But perhaps Dan would not agree. She stole a glance at his face. He did not look as if he favoured the suggestion. Indeed, his expression was openly reluctant, and Jo flushed uncomfortably.

  `Perhaps some other time,’ she tried again.

  `Lance can crew for me.’ Dan seemed suddenly to make up his mind about something, and added obliquely, ‘Amos can take the Sea Swallow out.’

  `Don’t let us put you to any inconvenience.’ Jo cut short her brother’s unrestrained whoop of delight.

  `You won’t.’ Dan glanced at her briefly, and then away again, and Jo suddenly felt snubbed. His tone suggested that if she was of the slightest inconvenience, he would not have agreed to take her.

  `I don’t believe it.’ Lance gazed at Jo incredulously as he paused for a moment in his task of supervising the unloading of the day’s catch later that afternoon. Jo had acted on Julian’s second suggestion a lot more willingly than she had received his first.

  `The boats that went out on the early tide will be back by the afternoon,’ he told her. ‘You’ll have time to watch them unload if you’re interested, and still be back in plenty of time for dinner.’

  That meant she need not see Dan again until the evening meal. Jo grasped at Julian’s suggestion with as much enthusiasm as Chris, but for an entirely different reason, and paused in the act of knotting a scarf over her head to foil the mischievous wind. Why was she perpetually looking for an avenue of escape from Dan Penderick? she wondered in exasperation, and then, scornfully, gave herself an easy answer. She did not want to intrude where she was not wanted. But it was Dan who had brought her to Penderick House, almost by force, and certainly against her will. And it was at Dan’s insistence, as well as Julian’s, that she was being obliged to stay. He had called her a member of the household, and seemed to regard herself and Chris as fixtures for the time being. She shrugged her thoughts away impatiently.

  `He said you’d crew for him, and Amos could take the Sea Swallow out,’ Chris said importantly. ‘Shall we be able to crew for him as well?’ he asked hopefully.

  `Well, I’m …!’ For a second Lance’s face took on a thunderous expression, making his likeness to Dan even more marked, Jo thought, and then his look cleared, and he laughed. ‘We might let you off crewing for this trip,’ he told Chris gravely, subduing his mirth with an effort. `Roddy will help out I expect, unless Amos insists on taking him along on the Sea Swallow.’

  `We seem to be causing everyone a lot of trouble.’ The cause of Lance’s amusement was not obvious to Jo, and it began to irritate her.

  `You’re not,’ he assured her, seeming to sense her feelings. In one way Lance was a bit like Julian; he had some of the older man’s sensitivity, Jo thought. ‘It’s only that Amos is so superstitious it’s just not true, particularly in this day and age,’ he explained with a twinkle, ‘and Dan goes out of his way not to upset him. He’s the oldest skipper in the fleet. Dan doesn’t believe in all that rubbish

  himself, of course,’ he added, and his grin broadened.

  `What rubbish?’ Jo was more puzzled than ever.

  `Sorry, I forgot you were a landlubber,’ Lance laughed cheerfully. ‘Women are supposed to be bad luck on the fishing boats,’ he explained, ‘and you,’ he added unnecessarily, ‘are a woman,’ his glance adding that he was flatteringly glad of the fact.

  `Are you superstitious?’ Jo was too modern to regard the whole thing as anything more than sheer nonsense, and she spoke lightly.

  `No, I’m just glad of any diversion on a working trip,’ Lance responded in the same vein, and added, ‘particularly a nice-looking diversion,’ with just the right amount of teasing in his voice for Jo not to mind, even though her colour rose in its usual traitorous manner. ‘There’s Amos now,’ Lance nodded towards a blue-jerseyed figure perched on a post by the harbour wall, with the folds of a fishing net hung up in front of him. ‘Come and say hello,’ he signalled the men loading the lorries with fish boxes, each one Jo noticed with the picture of a tern sketched along its side, and one of them took his place as he strolled away with Jo and Chris towards the white-haired fisherman, who had a stubby pipe stuck out sideways from his face in a way that reminded Jo irresistibly of Popeye.

  `Jo and Chris are staying with us for the time being,’ Lance introduced them.

  `I’d heard.’ The gnarled hands continued their task of mending the torn net, uninterrupted by the arrival of strangers, alt
hough a pair of shrewd blue eyes took in their presence, and, thought Jo uncomfortably, everything about them at the same time, in the one swift glance.

  `Isn’t the string thin?’ Chris said interestedly. ‘It doesn’t look strong enough to hold fish, somehow.’

  `It’s not string, it’s one of the new man-made fibres, they’re finer and stronger,’ Lance explained.

  `It looks tough.’ Jo reached out to finger the fold of net nearest to her.

  `Doan’ee touch it !’ She pulled her hand back hastily at the old fisherman’s sharp rebuff, and coloured furiously. `I’m sorry,’ she stammered, ‘I didn’t mean …’

  `It’s unlucky for a woman to touch the nets,’ Lance said quietly, and Jo noticed that in front of Amos he did not show any sign of amusement.

  `Well, I didn’t touch it,’ she assured him tartly, ‘though since I haven’t got long blonde hair, I can’t be a mermaid, so I don’t see why I’m supposed to be unlucky.’

  `Doan mock at things ‘ee knows nothin’ about,’ the old man growled, and Jo looked up at Lance helplessly.

  `I’ll run you back to the house in my car, if you’ll wait,’ he helped her out generously. ‘There’s a seat out of the wind further along the harbour wall.’ Tactfully he ushered her away, and once they were at a safe distance Jo grimaced ruefully.

  `That wasn’t a huge success,’ she admitted. ‘It’s a good job you didn’t tell him Dan is taking us out on the Kittiwake.’

  `Dan can do that himself,’ Lance grinned. But here’s someone else you can make friends with.’ He waved cheerfully to a dark-haired girl strolling along with a basket in her hand. ‘Have you got what you wanted?’ he asked her as they drew closer, and she nodded.

  `Amos saw me right,’ she indicated her basket, and Jo saw it was full of fish. Evidently the girl did her shopping direct from the suppliers, she thought with a smile If the fish at dinner the evening before was anything to go by, it was the best way.

  `You haven’t met Tessa, have you?’ Lance asked Jo. `This is Melanie’s sister,’ he identified her, ‘and this is Jo Wallace,’ he chatted on in a friendly fashion, and Jo smiled at the other girl. She was about her own age, maybe a year

  younger, and as lovely in a more mature way as Melanie. She had the same long black hair and huge black eyes, though in the older girl’s face there was a hint of haughty temper that could have been the result of her being spoilt because of her beauty. Jo had noticed it before in exceptionally handsome people, a flaw that marred what could otherwise have been perfection, she thought sadly.

  `Jo Wallace?’ The girl looked puzzled, and ignored Jo’s outstretched hand. ‘I thought when Melanie brought that bauble home,’ her voice was scornful of the pretty pendant Jo had so painstakingly made for the younger girl, ‘it was an artist and his brother who’d taken the cottage.’

  `You thought she was a fellow?’ Lance grinned delightedly. ‘Heaven forbid,’ he said fervently, and the other girl scowled.

  `It’s a reasonable mistake, with a name like that.’

  `It’s one that’s been made before,’ Jo admitted with a sigh. ‘It’s short for Joanne.’

  `Then why on earth don’t you call yourself by your proper name, then everybody will know who you are,’ Tessa snapped ungraciously.

  She’s disappointed I’m not another man, Jo thought shrewdly. In a small community it would be another conquest for a girl like Tessa. She knew a swift hope that Melanie’s young innocence would not end up like the petulant beauty before her.

  `There’s Chris, down by the boats,’ Lance pointed to where the boy sat swinging his heels from the bollard, absorbed in the activity confronting him.

  `Melanie said there was a boy. A child,’ Tessa said indifferently. Chris was too young to be of any interest to her yet. ‘At least when she’s running around playing with him she’s not under my feet.’ It sounded as if even her sister, young as she was, might be regarded as a rival. Jo found herself disliking Melanie’s sister, and wondered why she

  had hoped they might be friends. Tessa Tremayne was not the type to welcome friends of her own sex.

  `I know which one the Kittiwake is, Jo,’ Chris came trotting back—he could manage to run, now, for short distances, an achievement he was inordinately proud of. ‘I’ll show you if you like, then you’ll know which boat we’re going out on tomorrow. Oh, sorry,’ as it dawned on him that his sister had company.

  `You’re going out on the Kittiwake?’ Tessa looked as incredulous as Lance had done. ‘You can’t mean Dan’s taking you out with him?’ Strangely, her emphasis did not sound insulting, just disbelieving. Tessa was a child of the coast, and knew the ways of the fishermen.

  `Yes, but Amos isn’t crewing for him. He’s putting up with me instead,’ Lance grinned. ‘And we hope Amos will let Roddy come with us as well.’

  `Does Amos know?’ Tessa’s voice was slightly awed, and Jo felt a surge of impatience. From the way these people were behaving, she thought crossly, anyone would think she possessed the evil eye.

  `No, Dan will tell him’ Lance’s tone added ‘thank goodness’. ‘I’ve been telling Jo how superstitious Amos is.’

  `Then if you know how much trouble you’re causing, surely you’ll stay off the boat,’ Tessa rounded on Jo sharply. ‘You’ll probably be sick anyway, most trippers are,’ she said scornfully.

  `She’s not a tripper, she’s a resident,’ Lance said quietly, and underneath his easy manner there was a faint hint of warning, which Tessa chose to ignore.

  `A resident?’ the other girl sneered. ‘Resident where? At the cottage on the cliff ?’ She must know by now it was uninhabitable.

  `No, at Penderick House,’ Lance replied, and now there was a touch of steel in his voice, but Tessa did not seem to hear it.

  `Oh, trust Dan to collect all the flotsam and jetsam,’ she snapped. ‘He’s too soft-hearted for his own good. Perhaps now you’ll go back inland where you came from,’ she said to Jo unpleasantly. ‘Keep the coast for a day trip to Blackpool, and leave living here to those who belong.’ She swung on her heel, and with an indifferent toss of her head strode away towards a small van parked close by. Jo noticed it had the name of her father’s flower farm emblazoned on the side.

  `We might as well be off, too.’ Lance looked faintly uncomfortable. ‘My car’s over here.’ He led the way in the opposite direction to where the van was parked, and Jo called Chris to them. ‘We’re ready to go.’ He came willingly enough, certain in the knowledge that he would be back the following day, and tucked himself in the back of the car where he could gaze out of the rear window at the fascinating new world of the harbour. They passed the van on their way. Jo was surprised to find it still parked there, from the way Tessa had flounced off she gave the impression that she could not get away fast enough, but Jo caught sight of her black hair and swinging basket walking back along the harbour wall. She thought nothing of it until Dan joined them for dinner, with knitted brows and a look of angry impatience on his face.

  `Couldn’t you have left it to me to tell Amos to take out the Sea Swallow for us tomorrow?’ he growled at Lance as soon as they were seated.

  `I haven’t said anything to Amos,’ Lance looked taken aback at the thrust. ‘Jo told me you were taking her and Chris out with you, and wanted me to crew for, you. I don’t remember you saying anything to Amos either, did you, Jo?’ he asked her, so obviously at a loss that even Dan seemed convinced.

  `Not I,’ denied Jo firmly. ‘Amos didn’t like me as it was,’ she remembered ruefully. ‘And I know Chris didn’t say

  anything. And Julian’s the only other one who knows we’re going out, unless …’ She stopped, remembering Tessa Tremayne.

  `We met Tessa. I introduced her to Jo, and Chris came up and mentioned you were taking them out on the Kittiwake.’ Lance latched on to Joe’s thoughts without any trouble.

  `Tessa wouldn’t say anything to Amos, she knows how he’d react unless he was told in the right way,’ Dan scotched the suggest
ion, but Jo did not feel so sure. Tessa Tremayne did not like her, she had made that obvious, and probably—Jo suspected her guess was not far wrong—Tessa liked Dan more than a little. Lance was too young for her to be interested in, and Julian—somehow, one could not imagine Julian being married. His disabilities had turned an already gentle, academic nature into one that retreated into the world of books and music, and was made utterly content thereby. No, of the three it would be Dan who would attract Tessa Tremayne. They deserved one another, thought Jo unfairly, and wished heartily Julian had not suggested them going on the fishing trip in the first place.

  Nevertheless she could not help feeling excited as they stepped out of the car the following morning and stood waiting for Dan to park it and join them.

  `The Kittiwake’s tied up at the far end of the harbour wall,’ he told Lance. ‘It’s a good way to walk, but I thought it would be easier for Jo to get aboard.’

  `He’s letting you off lightly,’ Lance quipped. ‘You’ll be walking down a flight of nice safe stone steps straight on to the deck, instead of climbing up a rope ladder and scrambling over the side, the same as he would have made me do.’ He tried in vain to look hard done by, and caused a laugh all round; even Dan seemed to be in a cheerful mood. Chris stuck to him like a leech. Jo had heard Dan talking to the boy before breakfast, and was glad she overheard their

  conversation. Their host evidently took his responsibilities seriously, because in return for the trip he was demanding instant obedience from Chris while he was on board, a promise which the boy eagerly gave, and was rewarded by being nominated a member of the crew for the day. Jo smiled as she listened. However prickly Dan might be with grown-ups, he had a wonderful way with children, and she felt relaxed and at ease, knowing the boy to be in safe hands. Having sole responsibility for his welfare had sometimes weighed heavily upon her during the last few months.

  `I’ll go first, the steps might be slippery.’ Dan turned down the narrow flight of steps at the end of the harbour wall, and held up his hand. ‘Hold on to me,’ he told Jo, then as she hesitated, ‘I don’t want you dropping over the side before we even start off. Lance will do the same for Chris.’ His voice was an order rather than a comment, and she automatically put her hand into his, feeling the strong grip of his fingers about her own. With Dan holding on to her, the steps suddenly looked twice as broad, and she began to descend with more confidence. A quick glance behind her showed Lance with Chris in tow in a similar manner. Dan’s homily about obeying orders had gone home, she thought thankfully. ‘Now, stand still for a moment,’ Dan told her as they reached a step level with the deck of the boat, that sidled restlessly with the swell up and down against the sheltering stones, like a thoroughbred eager to be away. Without saying what he meant to do Dan straddled widely, placing one foot on the deck and the other on the stone step. Without a pause he reached out and grasped Jo firmly round the waist and swung her down safely on to the gently rocking deck, holding on to her hand for another moment to make sure she was steady, before he let her go into the keeping of a tousled, grinning lad not much older than Melanie, whose shock of red hair seemed strangely out of place in their dun-coloured surroundings.