A Safe Harbour (16 page)

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Authors: Benita Brown

Tags: #Technology & Engineering, #Sagas, #Fisheries & Aquaculture, #Fiction

BOOK: A Safe Harbour
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‘No . . . no . . . no!’ Kate was hardly aware that it was she who was crying out in grief and terror at the sight of her Aunt Meg lying like a broken doll on the rocks below.
 
Chapter Seven
 
Kate had scrambled down the rocks with no thought for her own safety, and now she knelt and cradled her aunt’s head in her arms. Blood had seeped into the rock pools. Kate stared at the crimson ribbons curling through the water, staining it with the colours of death. Surely Aunt Meg couldn’t be dead – she was still warm. Kate looked up at the faces of the men surrounding her for reassurance. Unable to stop her, some of them had followed her down to the beach. They saw the anguished question in her eyes and one or two of them shook their heads gravely.
 
Kate felt tears well up. She blinked them away and lowered her head to gaze desperately into the face of her beloved aunt. Meg’s eyes were wide open as they stared up at the wide blue sky and the seabirds circling above the bay. But the old fishwife could neither hear the harsh cries of the gulls nor see their graceful flight as they caught the currents of air to lift them even higher. Behind the eyes there was nothing; emptiness. Aunt Meg was no longer there no matter how much Kate wanted her to be.
 
Kate began to rock backwards and forwards, still cradling her aunt and crooning to her as if she were a baby. She heard the onlookers begin to mutter worriedly. Fragments of their conversations pierced her dazed state.
 
‘Crazed with grief . . .’
 
‘No wonder . . .’
 
‘Poor lass. First her sweetheart and now her aunt . . .’
 
‘And so soon after . . .’
 
‘Has anyone told Henry? After all, he’s Meg’s brother.’
 
‘Aye, I sent young Davy.’
 
Kate heard her father’s name mentioned but she didn’t care. Let him come, she thought. She was aware of movement in the crowd around her. They parted as someone pushed their way through.
 
‘Stop that,’ the newcomer said roughly. ‘That will do no good at all.’ The speaker knelt down and took Kate in her arms. ‘Now come away with me, before your father comes,’ her mother said. ‘Do you hear me? Lay her down. Lay her down gently. That’s right. Come along – I’ll help you up.’
 
Reluctantly Kate did as she was told. She stared at her aunt’s poor head lying on the rocks with the dark blood matting her once splendid hair. She leaned forward again and eased her aunt’s shawl up so that it lay under her head like a pillow. Then, rising, she allowed her mother to lead her away.
 
 
A week later the two of them sat facing each other across the table at Belle Vue Cottage. Her mother had taken the old cocoa tin down from the mantelshelf and now she opened it and shook the contents out on to the scrubbed surface. Kate watched as some of the coins rolled towards her and then clattered to a stop.
 
‘Should we be doing this?’ Kate asked.
 
‘Why ever not?’
 
‘It’s Aunt Meg’s money. Her savings.’
 
‘She can’t spend any of it where she’s gone.’
 
‘Don’t say that!’
 
‘It’s true. And I know Meg would want you to have it now. She told me that she was going to give you a tidy sum to set you up in America. She didn’t want Winifred to think we were paupers.’ Her mother gazed at the coins on the table and began gathering them up and putting them in neat little piles. She sighed. ‘Poor Meg. I don’t think she’d counted it lately.’
 
‘Why do you say that?’
 
‘Because she led me to believe there was much more than this. By the time I’ve settled up for her funeral there’ll be precious little left. I don’t understand. Unless . . .’
 
‘What is it?’
 
‘Well, Meg was over-fond of her gin, wasn’t she?’ Nan held up her hand when she saw that Kate was about to protest. ‘No, Kate, we all knew about it. And she was the soul of generosity. I telt her many a time not to listen to hard luck stories, especially if she’d had a drop or two, but she didn’t heed my advice. You know what I think, Kate? I think she’d got herself into a right muddle. I don’t believe she had any idea how much money there was left in the tin. And that’s what I’m going to tell your da.’
 
‘Why do you have to tell him anything?’
 
‘Because Meg worked hard and had a canny business. Your father is sure that she had some savings. He telt me to come and get them. He said, as her brother, he was entitled to anything she left.’
 
‘Give him the money, I don’t care.’
 
‘No, I’m not going to do that, at least not all of it. He’ll only spend it on drink.’
 
The two women stared at each other, their expressions grave.
 
‘Drink . . .’ Kate said. ‘Drinking too much is a family failing, isn’t it?’
 
Her mother looked as though she wished she could deny it. She nodded slowly as she said, ‘I’m afraid so.’
 
‘Well, what about my brothers? Don’t you fear for them?’
 
‘I don’t know, lass.’ Her mother looked bleak. ‘William doesn’t seem to like the drink very much. I don’t know whether he finds it distasteful or whether he’s been put off by your da’s behaviour. But Thomas . . .’ Nan’s voice trailed off and she stared ahead without really seeing anything. ‘I sometimes worry about Thomas. He’s a hothead to start with and when he’s had a drink he’s impossible.’ Nan pushed about half of the coins across the table towards Kate. ‘There’s as much as I dare give you. Your da will have to be satisfied with the rest.’
 
‘But how will you convince him that’s all there is?’
 
‘I’ll say she’s been spending it on drink. That’s partly true. And he’ll have to believe it because it was the drink that killed her, wasn’t it?’
 
Kate flinched. She’d been told how Meg had been laughing and joking with some of the lads on the boat field. She’d had a good day and had already been back to the cottage to leave her creel and basket. Then, seeking company, perhaps, she had strolled out into the sunshine.
 
If only I’d got home earlier, Kate thought now. If only I had not made any attempt to gossip with the customers the way my aunt did. She had tortured herself with such ‘if onlys’ ever since the day of the accident. But she hadn’t been home when Meg had returned to the cottage and her aunt had gone out seeking ‘a bit chat’ as she would have called it. After a while she had set off for home, taking the cliff-top path. Nobody saw the exact moment when she stumbled. No one was near enough to reach out and prevent her falling. And it must have happened only a moment or two before Kate had walked that way. So there was another ‘if only’.
 
The hateful vision returned. Kate tried to banish from her inner eye what she had seen when she had gazed down at the rocks below. Meg’s twisted body, the eyes staring up in surprise, the ribbons of blood spreading out across the rocks and into the pools of salt water.
 
‘Shall I put this money back in the tin?’ Her mother’s question brought Kate back to the present.
 
‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘What are you doing?’
 
‘I’m hiding the tin at the back of this drawer in the dresser. Just in case your father gets it into his head to come looking.’
 
‘Do you think he will?’
 
‘Not if I do my job properly, but we’ll be safe rather than sorry, shall we?’
 
Kate nodded dumbly. She was surprised and grateful that her mother could be so practical when she herself was still too stunned with grief even to think straight.
 
‘What’s this?’ her mother said as she picked something up from the dresser. ‘There’s something wrapped up in this clean tea towel.’
 
‘Bring it over. I’ll show you.’
 
Wordlessly Kate unwrapped the bundle that her mother placed on the table before her and they both stared at what was revealed.
 

Your
work?’ her mother asked. Her eyes had widened in disbelief.
 
Kate smiled. ‘Hardly. No, it’s Meg’s.’
 
‘But it’s beautiful. And I didn’t know Meg could knit anything more complicated than a simple shawl.’
 
‘It is a shawl,’ Kate said, ‘or at least half of one.’
 
Together they stared at the soft white wool and the delicate lacy pattern of what looked like tiny seashells. ‘For the baby,’ her mother breathed.
 
‘She wouldn’t let me see what she was knitting. I found it after she died when I was looking for – for clean things for the undertaker. It was wrapped up just as you found it and hidden among her petticoats.’
 
‘I’ll finish it,’ her mother said. ‘But we’ll keep it here. Whenever I can I’ll come round and spend some time with you. Are you going to be all right here on your own?’
 
‘I’ll manage.’
 
‘And you’ll be able to pay the rent?’
 
‘Yes, Aunt Meg taught me well. I’ll do as much of her round as I can, although I might have to let the new customers go.’
 
‘Then I can only hope that we’ll hear from Winifred soon. I don’t want anything to happen.’
 
‘What do you mean?’
 
‘In spite of the trouble you’re in, the poor bairn is an innocent soul. I wouldn’t want you to lose it.’
 
Kate’s hands went instinctively to her abdomen. As yet there was no visible sign of Jos’s child and she had felt no movements. But it was there, her child was there, safe within her, and a wave of love so powerful that it left her gasping overwhelmed her. ‘No,’ she whispered and she knew she was shaking. ‘No, I mustn’t lose my baby.’
 
‘So work hard if you must,’ her mother said, ‘but whenever you can you should rest. Put your feet up, eat properly. I’ll bring you food from home when I can. A drop of broth, a bit of stew. And make sure you drink plenty milk for the little ’un’s bones and teeth.’
 
‘But what will my father say about you bringing me things from home?’
 
‘He’ll never know.’ Her mother pursed her lips and suddenly looked old and tired.
 
‘What is it?’ Kate asked. ‘Is something wrong?’
 
‘No more than usual. Although your father’s drinking is getting worse. I don’t know how he would manage without your brothers – particularly William. You know, Kate, I’ve come to rely more and more on your elder brother. And I know that’s not fair. He’ll want to get wed one day and then what will I do?’
 
‘Come with me to America!’ Kate said it impulsively and she saw her mother’s eyes light up briefly, but the light was soon extinguished.
 
‘No, pet. I took my marriage vows and I’ll see them through. And there’s Thomas. Big as he thinks he is, he still needs his ma.’
 
Her mother insisted on filling the coal scuttle and seeing to the fire before she took her leave. ‘Will you be down at the beach auction in the morning?’ she asked.
 
‘Of course.’
 
‘Then have an early night. Go to bed now. You’ve no one to please but yourself. I half envy you.’
 
But Kate didn’t go to bed. She was too restless. She knew she wouldn’t sleep so she got the writing set from the drawer in the dresser and sat at the table to write a letter to her friend – who still didn’t know what the true situation was. But she could tell Jane of her sorrow and how much she missed her beloved aunt. It would give her comfort to pour out her heartache, knowing her friend would sympathize. She picked up her pen.
 
A while later she finished the letter with a request that Jane should try to come home for a visit soon. She blotted the pages carefully, put them in an envelope, sealed it and attached a stamp. She left the envelope lying on the table and rose from her chair. But making a sudden decision she snatched her shawl from the back of the door and seized the letter. I’ll walk along and post it now, she thought. I need some fresh air and the village will be quiet at this time of night.
 
After she had posted the letter Kate stood for a while on Bank Top and let the light breeze from the sea cool her face and lift her hair. It was soothing. The surface of the sea, like grey silk, rippled in the breeze and the moon had laid a pathway of silver across the water in the bay. Kate clutched at the rail and stared at the dappled water. She could hear the waves slapping on to the beach and then pull back across the shingle.
 
‘Beautiful,’ someone said softly.
 
She recognized the voice and didn’t even turn when the speaker came to stand beside her.
 
‘Yes, isn’t it?’ she replied. ‘The moonlight on the water . . .’
 
‘I didn’t mean the moonlight,’ Howard Munro said. ‘I meant you.’
 
Kate was shocked. ‘You shouldn’t speak to me like that.’
 
‘Forgive me. I meant no disrespect.’ He laughed softly. ‘I’m an artist, remember? Sometimes we don’t behave like gentlemen. But then people don’t expect us to. Am I forgiven?’
 
Kate smiled tentatively and nodded her assent.
 

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