Authors: Benita Brown
Tags: #Technology & Engineering, #Sagas, #Fisheries & Aquaculture, #Fiction
A Safe Harbour (8 page)
‘I think you’re teasing me,’ she said.
He laughed. ‘A little. But now if you look behind me you’ll see that the waves really are advancing, so perhaps you would let me escort you back to the village.’
Kate nodded an agreement. What a strange thing to have happened, she thought. She glanced at the man striding beside her and wondered if they would meet again.
They didn’t speak as they made their way to the sloping path that led up to Bank Top. Tall though he was, Howard found himself having to lengthen his stride to keep up with the longlimbed fisherlass. He was immediately aware of her natural grace, although he sensed that his mother would not approve of the way the girl strode more like a man than a ‘lady’. He allowed himself a brief flight of fancy and imagined what it would be like to take this girl back to Boston with him. To dress her in silks and satins and present her to polite society. Surely her beauty and honesty would win all hearts. It would be an interesting experiment.
He saw that their progress did not go unnoticed. Two small lads squatting at the end of the southern breakwater glanced across and then went on with their fishing. A group of men loading lobster pots into their cobles also looked up and stared for a little longer than the lads had done. Howard suddenly felt out of his depth. He wondered if they would disapprove of his approaching Kate like this.
At home in America there were rigid rules of etiquette in the society to which his family belonged. These fisherfolk might also have conventions which should be observed. He glanced at the young woman now hurrying up the slope. She seemed unaware of the attention they had attracted. Or perhaps she had noticed and didn’t care. Howard received the impression that this girl was confident enough to make her own rules. Even in her present state of unhappiness he sensed she had a life force that would not be quenched. He knew he must see her again, and more than ever he wanted to paint her portrait. But now was not the time to ask her.
When they reached Bank Top they parted. ‘I hope to meet you again,’ he said and wondered how she would interpret his words. But she seemed to be only half listening.
‘Goodbye, and thank you,’ she said.
‘Why do you thank me?’
‘For caring what happened to me.’ Her smile did not reach her eyes. She turned and hurried purposefully away. It was as if she had suddenly remembered something she had to do.
Thomas was sitting on an old chair in the back yard of the cottage with a broken lobster pot over his knees. Kate stood in the doorway and watched as he expertly repaired the gash in the pot’s netting. The yard was cluttered with old nets, two barrels for salting herring and a barrow with one of its wheels missing. Now and then William made some effort to get things shipshape but their father would tell him to leave things be. He claimed he knew where everything was, and maybe the nets
were
beyond mending, but they might come in useful for something or other.
were
beyond mending, but they might come in useful for something or other.
Her brother was bent over the lobster pot so that she could only see the top of his head as he concentrated on his task. Kate hesitated. She was loath to disturb his concentration but now, the first time she had found him on his own since the funeral tea the day before, seemed a good time to question him.
Suddenly he looked up as if some extra sense had warned him of her presence. He smiled. ‘How long hev you been standing there?’ he asked.
‘Not long.’
‘What is it?’ Thomas’s smile faded. He must have sensed her agitation.
‘I have to ask you something.’
He looked genuinely puzzled. ‘Ask away.’
‘What were you talking about yesterday – you and the other lads, when you were sitting by the fire in the mission hall?’
She was sure she saw his eyes widen with consternation before he shrugged and said, ‘I can’t remember.’ He looked uneasy.
‘I don’t believe you. You were planning something.’
He tried to smile but it came over as a grimace of embarrassment. ‘No, Kate, there was nothing like that.’ They stared at each other and Thomas reddened. ‘We were talking about some of the strange fish we’ve caught from time to time – and how the teachers at the College of Science like to pickle them and put them on display.’
‘Yes, I heard that. But that was what you meant me to hear when you realized I was there. But I heard other things before that. Something about Adamson’s trawlers – about not being beat.’
Thomas began to shake his head. ‘You’re mistaken—’
‘Don’t lie to me!’ Kate felt a surge of anger. ‘You were planning something. You said you must act together and that you mustn’t forget what Jos had said.’
‘And what was that?’ Thomas said quietly.
‘That you had to settle for the bastard. That’s what I heard and it’s no use denying it. You’ve got some kind of plan to cause trouble for Mr Adamson, haven’t you?’
Thomas stood up slowly and hoisted the lobster pot on to the roof of the coalhouse where several others were stored. The action gave him time to consider his reply and Kate clenched her fists impatiently. He made a show of checking to see that the pot was stowed properly and then turned to face her, but he couldn’t meet her eyes. Kate had never seen her brother look so perplexed.
Finally he said, ‘You know well enough how bad the herring fishing’s been lately.’
‘Everyone knows that.’
‘Some men have been forced to lay up their cobles and seek work crewing colliers out of Shields.’
‘Yes. The coal ships.’
‘Not long back a canny herring season would see us through the winter, but Adamson’s steam trawlers have put an end to that.’
‘Thomas, the steam trawlers won’t go away. It’s . . . it’s progress, I suppose.’
‘But, don’t you see, the trawls on his damn boats take more than a man’s fair share. He’ll finish it for everybody.’
‘I know, but it’s not just Adamson’s trawlers, is it? What about the Scottish boats?’
‘Aye, and damn them. I’m sure Jos would hev had a plan to fettle them as well! But we were going to start with Adamson. He’s supposed to be one of our own! Why, just a generation or two back the Adamsons were plain inshore fishermen and they lived in the village like the rest of us. Now look at them – living in that grand house and prospering while the rest of us scrape a living!’
‘Thomas,’ Kate said gently, ‘that’s hard to swallow, I know it is, but the old days are over. Don’t you think we might all have to change?’
Her brother’s face flushed. ‘I’m glad Jos can’t hear you talking like that. He’d be ashamed of you!’
‘I understand why you’re upset—’ she began.
‘Upset!’
‘No, listen to me. I don’t want to quarrel with you. Really, I don’t. I just want to know what Jos was planning to do.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I have a right to know. Jos and I were going to be married. Don’t you think he would have told me once we were man and wife?’
Thomas looked troubled. ‘I’m not so sure.’
‘Of course he would! You know how close we were. You know he didn’t treat me like the other lads treat their womenfolk. We always discussed everything – we made all our plans together.’
‘That’s true.’
‘Well then, I’m sure that now . . . now he can’t tell me himself, he would have wanted you to tell me.’
‘I’ve telt you. Jos said Adamson had to be stopped.’
‘But how?’
‘I’ve said enough, Kate. This isn’t women’s work.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’
‘And it’s no use you getting into a paddy. That’s how you get your own way, losing your temper with folk, isn’t it?’
‘No!’ Kate was stung to hear her brother criticize her.
‘Yes, it is. You might not realize it, but you can fair frighten folk when yer bonny green eyes blaze like that.’ Thomas was smiling now and Kate could see that she’d lost the battle. ‘And I’m not going to let you get your own way this time.’
‘This time?’
‘Aye, as you have done ever since we were little bairns. I might be the lad but you’ve been the leader. But not any more. You’ll just hev to believe me that Jos was right and what we’re doing is for the best.’ He raised his chin and stared at her but when he saw the way she was clenching her fists he looked down at the ground. ‘Anyway, I’ve got to see Matthew now, so if you’ll—’
‘Wait a moment.’
‘What now?’
‘Does William know?’
‘No. And you’re not to tell him.’
‘That’s easy – I still don’t know what this . . . this plan is, do I?’
‘That’s right. And you’re not to bother William. Jos didn’t want him involved. So if you respect Jos’s memory, keep quiet and forget you heard anything.’
‘I wish I hadn’t!’
Kate stepped aside and Thomas went out into the lane without looking at her. She watched him go and then turned and crossed the yard, but she stopped at the open doorway. Inside the cottage she could hear her parents’ voices. She couldn’t make out what they were saying but her father’s tone was harsh and, as usual, her mother’s was conciliatory. It had always been this way. Never mind that what Henry Lawson said when he was in one of these moods was often nonsense, Nan would pretend to agree just to keep the peace and avoid a violent outburst.
Kate sat down on the chair that her brother had just vacated. She had believed that she was going to escape from scenes like this; that a new and happier life was about to begin in the Lintons’ home. She leaned back against the wall of the cottage and closed her eyes. She was vexed and weary. She’d learned nothing from the conversation with Thomas and she realized that, for once, she wasn’t going to get her own way. Her brother would tell her nothing.
She wished, now, that she hadn’t heard one word of whatever it was they’d been plotting at the funeral tea. Ignorance would have been better than knowing that the man she was grieving for had been planning something that she suspected was unlawful and possibly dangerous. But she decided to let it go. Whatever they were going to do no longer involved Jos. He was beyond harm. Her brother Thomas would have to look out for himself.
Chapter Four
Kate would have liked to sit for a while and take pleasure in the warmth of the sun. How agreeable it would be to relax and let the summer heat soothe her weary bones. But through the open door of the cottage she could hear her father’s voice rising in a crescendo of anger and her mother’s responses sounding ever more conciliatory. Should she go inside so that her mother would not have to face him alone, or would her presence only aggravate him further?
What she heard next made her leap to her feet. She stood there, shaking, as her father burst out of the back door. He glanced at her balefully before he crossed the yard and stormed off down the lane. Kate wanted to rush in to her mother. She had heard her cry of pain, but she found that her heart was pounding. She had risen too swiftly. She turned and grasped the back of the chair, letting her head drop until the surge of her own blood subsided.
Then she went into the cottage. Her great-grandmother was sitting bolt upright on the bed mouthing barely articulate sounds. When she saw Kate, Sarah clutched her shawl tightly with one hand and with the other she pointed towards the floor where Nan was struggling to rise.
‘Wait, I’ll help you.’ Kate knelt down and grasped her mother’s arms. The two of them rose together. When they were standing Kate searched her mother’s face. There was a red mark under one eye. ‘He punched you.’
‘Aye. But go and settle Sarah. Tell her I’m fine.’
Kate was reluctant to leave her mother, but her great-grandmother had started whimpering like a frightened child. Kate went over to the bed and took hold of Sarah’s hands, little claw-like things with painfully thin fingers. They were trembling. Kate held them in her own and whispered soothingly that everything was all right, until, eventually, the old woman settled back amongst her pillows. Kate pulled the blanket up over her lap and went back to her mother, who had turned to lean with both hands on the table. Kate was aware that the old woman was following her movements with watery eyes. As they were always rheumy it was hard to tell whether she was crying.
‘What was it this time?’ Kate asked.
Nan Lawson looked over her shoulder at her and shook her head, wincing at the movement. ‘Yer da’s angered with William and Thomas.’
Kate was surprised. If her mother had told her that her father had found another reason to be dissatisfied with Kate’s own behaviour that would have been nothing new. But since her brothers had grown to young manhood, Henry Lawson had settled into an uneasy truce with them. He needed his sons to crew the coble and he sensed that they were not in as much awe of him as they used to be.
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