A Safe Harbour (30 page)
Authors: Benita Brown
Tags: #Technology & Engineering, #Sagas, #Fisheries & Aquaculture, #Fiction
‘No, hinny, it’s not a matter of the rent. I need the cottage. Our Susan wants to come back here. Her man got a good job at the smokehouse at Craster but they’ve never settled there. Seth’s going to try his luck in North Shields. Mr Adamson has promised me he’ll help him.
‘Well, you can see they couldn’t live here, not Susan and Seth and three little bairns – one of them a baby. I’m sorry, Kate. You’ll have to move out of the cottage.’
‘When?’
‘Not for a week or two. They’ve got affairs to settle. But it was only fair to give you warning.’
‘Right. If you don’t mind I’ll go now,’ Kate said angrily.
She already had the door open and the bell was jingling above her head when Alice called out to her. ‘Shall I ask around if anyone wants a lodger?’
‘No, don’t bother. I can see to it myself.’
She gave the door an extra hard push and heard the slam and the rattle with a perverse satisfaction. In truth Kate had no idea what she was going to do. She could never go home and she hated the very idea of becoming a lodger with a family here in the village. In all probability that meant she would have to share a room, and even a bed, with one or more of the daughters, or perhaps the old grandmother. How long would she be able to keep her condition secret in those circumstances?
She hurried down the street in a fury, almost tripping over one of Howard’s stray cats as she went. It arched its back and spat at her before yowling and fleeing. She felt hot and was pleased to feel a light spattering of raindrops on her face. She could smell the smoke from all the chimneys of the village as folk built up their fires for the evening. She felt enclosed by it. Trapped. She longed for a keen wind from the sea to blow the smoke and all her troubles away.
Once home in the cottage she dumped her shopping bag on the table and then sat down and stared at it. I shouldn’t have been so angry with poor Alice, she thought. She has every right to want the cottage for her daughter. She’s not a bad woman. She’s hardworking and kind. She gave me those bacon bits for the soup even though I suspect she was going to use them herself.
Kate reached over and tipped the shopping on to the table. She didn’t feel like making soup. Her mother had urged her to cook nourishing meals for herself and she had done so – for the bairn’s sake. But what was the use of nourishing meals when very soon all she might be entitled to was the meagre fare in the workhouse? Unless her mysterious Aunt Winifred answered Aunt Meg’s letter and offered her a home.
Then a new idea occurred to her. Aunt Winifred hasn’t answered because she doesn’t want to offer me a home. She’s not answering because she doesn’t know what to say.
Kate stood up and looked around wildly at the place where she had found a refuge for a while, first with her beloved aunt and then alone, in sad but welcome peace. She clenched her fists and closed her eyes. Her screams were silent but left her shaken all the same. Jos, why have you left me to face this alone?
Hardly knowing what she was doing, Kate snatched up her shawl, pulled it hastily round her shoulders, and ran from the cottage. She sped along Bank Top and then down the slope to the beach. She would go to the place where she and Jos had had their happiest times, and where, in the warm dimness of a summer evening, their child had been conceived.
Chapter Thirteen
‘Leave the bairn alone, Ann.’ Martha Smith remonstrated with her daughter-in-law. ‘You know she can’t help it.’
‘I swear she does it on purpose. Just to annoy me.’
‘She’s not doing anything wrong.’
‘Yes she is. Just sitting staring like that. It doesn’t look right.’
‘She’s thinking, that’s all.’
‘Thinking? And what’s she got to think with?’
‘Lissen, she doesn’t think the same way we do but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t got a brain.’
All the time her mother and her grandmother had been talking Betsy had been sitting placidly as if their conversation had nothing do with her. This infuriated her mother even more. ‘For goodness’ sake, Betsy,’ she said, her voice cracked with anger. ‘Take yourself off to bed afore I clout you one.’
Betsy, suddenly focusing, saw her mother’s half-raised arm. She got up quickly. The chair she’d been sitting on fell over. Ann Smith gasped with exasperation and brought her hand down hard across her daughter’s face. Betsy turned and fled to the door. She pulled it open and ran out into the rain.
When she reached Belle Vue Cottage she found the door open. This was wrong. She knew that. She stepped inside hesitantly. The rain had been blown in by the wind and there was a damp patch across the stone-flagged floor. One of Mr Munro’s cats, the ginger one, must have found the open door before her and was sleeping on the cushioned chair near the range. The black one was on the table. But Kate wasn’t at home.
Richard trod carefully as he went upstairs to his study. Prince kept him company. The dog seemed to know that caution was called for and he kept his body low and his head cocked so that he could keep his eyes on his master’s face. Richard grinned and put his fingers to his lips as if the dog could understand the gesture. And perhaps he did.
The Ladies’ Reading Group was meeting in the first-floor sitting room and Richard had no wish to be called in to socialize. He would do his duty when the meeting came to an end, see the ladies to their carriages or call cabs for them if necessary, but he had excused himself long ago from handing round the teacups and small cakes that his mother always provided. Caroline had taken over that duty.
The overhead gas lamp was already lit but Richard put a match to the three oil lamps that were placed around the room and then closed the heavy velvet curtains. Crossing to the fireplace, he removed the cinder guard and built up the fire himself. He had observed that at the Traverses’ house not one of the family would do this.
Not Caroline, nor her mother, nor even her father who was certainly capable of shovelling a few bits of coal into the fire. But Richard could not bring himself to pull the bell rope and summon one of the maids from the kitchen to do something he could easily do himself.
Prince watched his actions with interest and then flopped down on the hearthrug with a contented moan. Richard lifted his coat tails and warmed his backside for a moment before crossing to his desk, which was set at right angles to the hearth. He settled himself to deal with some paperwork. The scar on his cheek began to nag a little. It felt as though some invisible person was poking at it with hot needles. He opened a drawer in his desk and reached for the bottle of brandy and a clean glass. He poured himself a generous measure and, nursing the tumbler with one hand, turned the pages of his ledger with the other and set to work.
She couldn’t find them. Kate sobbed with frustration. Although her eyes had become accustomed to the shadowy interior of the cave it was too dark to see the inscriptions carved into the wall. She began searching with her fingertips, running them over the sandstone walls, sure that sooner or later she would find the grooves that formed the names enclosed in the heart. The heart that Jos had carved to enclose the two of them within their own world for ever.
But her fingers, often sore and swollen these days, must have become too work-roughened and insensitive to find the carvings. She was sure she was searching in the right place. I should have brought a candle, she thought, as she sat down wearily on the ledge. Jos told me people used to live in these caves hundreds of years ago. Why shouldn’t I make my home here now? She smiled at the thought. It would be like children playing houses.
She remembered when she, Jos, Jane and Thomas used to do just that, bringing jam sandwiches and a bottle of water. If she listened hard she could almost hear those long-ago childish voices over the pounding of the waves on the shore and the wind-driven rain. She sat down on the ledge and leaned back against the wall of the cave and closed her eyes.
The Smith family sat at the table eating supper together. When her daughter-in-law placed her bowl of soup before her on the table Martha asked quietly, ‘Aren’t you going after the bairn?’
‘No.’
‘She didn’t take a shawl. It’s raining.’
‘You know fine well where she’ll be. With Kate Lawson. She’s not daft enough to stay out in the rain.’
‘Don’t you mind?’
‘Why should I? If the Lawson lass is willing to put up with Betsy she’s welcome to her. Now whisht.’ She glanced towards her husband and two sons who had started eating. ‘We’ll have our meal in peace for once.’
But Martha wouldn’t be silenced. ‘Betsy’s no trouble. You get yourself upset over nowt, if you ask me.’
‘I’m not asking you,’ her daughter-in-law said. ‘Now sup up before I decide it’s too much trouble keeping
you
here and pack you off to the workhouse.’
you
here and pack you off to the workhouse.’
There was a knock on the door and the dog yelped but didn’t wake up. He must have thought it was part of his dream. Richard had watched in amusement as the black paws twitched and the tail wagged. Whatever Prince was dreaming about he was enjoying it.
Richard glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and was surprised to see how long he had been working. Here, in his study at the back of the house, there was only the crackling of the coals in the hearth and the sleepy whimpering of the dog to disturb the peace.
The knock sounded again. Firmer and more demanding. Richard sighed, drained his second glass of brandy, and called, ‘Come in.’ When the door opened he was surprised to see Caroline enter the room. He got to his feet. ‘Are the ladies ready to go?’ he asked.
‘They went some time ago,’ she said.
‘Why didn’t you come for me?’
‘Your mother thought we shouldn’t disturb you.’
Richard wasn’t sure if he believed her. His mother had never minded interrupting his work before tonight. In fact she had objected forcefully when Richard had started bringing his books and papers home. Grace Adamson believed that all that should be left at the office and a man should relax in the evenings. It was a battle that she had won with Richard’s father who, as a consequence, had started to spend more time in the office on the quayside, coming home later and later. Richard had asked her what she preferred. That he stay out late at night or bring his work home. He had won the argument.
Caroline must have mistaken the look of doubt in his eyes, or at least attributed it to the wrong reason. ‘I managed perfectly well,’ she said. ‘The carriages arrived on time and I telephoned for cabs for the others.’
‘Then I must thank you. But has your carriage arrived yet?’
He observed a fleeting look of irritation before she replied, evenly enough, ‘My carriage will be here in just under an hour’s time. I thought you would like us to spend some time together.’
‘Oh, of course. Shall we go and join my mother?’
‘We can go to the sitting room, if you like, but your mother has gone to bed. We have just finished reading Mr Hardy’s
Tess of the D’Urbevilles
and most of the group found it quite distressing. Your mother said she wished to retire with a cup of hot chocolate, a ratafia biscuit or two, and one of Mrs Braddon’s sensation novels which, no matter what the heroine is forced to suffer, will at least have a happy ending.’
Tess of the D’Urbevilles
and most of the group found it quite distressing. Your mother said she wished to retire with a cup of hot chocolate, a ratafia biscuit or two, and one of Mrs Braddon’s sensation novels which, no matter what the heroine is forced to suffer, will at least have a happy ending.’
Richard couldn’t help responding to Caroline’s light-hearted tone even though he sensed her gaiety was somewhat forced. He was a little surprised and even shocked that his mother had gone to bed leaving Caroline alone with him. In their world, servants didn’t count, it seemed. He suspected that his mother, tired of his indecisiveness, might be trying to force the issue. She liked Caroline and thought it high time Richard was married.
He saw that Caroline was in the act of closing the door. ‘Why don’t we stay in here?’ she asked. ‘It’s warm and cosy and I have no wish to disturb you.’
Richard laughed. ‘But don’t you think you have disturbed me by coming here?’
Her eyes opened wider for a moment but she saw that he was joking and responded, ‘I meant by dragging you along the passage to another room.’
‘Hardly a fearsome journey.’
They both laughed and Richard found to his surprise that he was enjoying himself.
‘Let’s sit by the fire,’ Caroline said.
There was an armchair by the hearth, a high winged-back affair that kept the draughts away from your face. As Caroline settled herself in it, Richard picked up the chair from behind his desk and brought it round. He placed it so that he was facing her, with the dog lying between them.
The firelight shone on Prince’s black coat and Richard noticed that the dog had begun to pant. He was either too deeply asleep or too lazy to move, so Richard stretched out one leg and tried to edge him further away from the fire. Prince opened his eyes, lifted his head to look reproachfully at his master, growled half-heartedly and then raised himself unwillingly to flop down about a foot away. He eyed the bowl of water that Richard kept for him at the side of the hearth but then closed his eyes. Richard smiled. The dog would drink if he needed to.
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