The Fisher Lass (34 page)

‘That’s right,’ Joe agreed, moving nearer Sammy. ‘He’s a right to choose what he wants to do.’

‘Not until he’s at least twenty-one, he hasn’t,’ Jeannie snapped.

Sammy was quick on the uptake. ‘Then I can’t be involved in decision-making either.’ There was a sneer on his face as he spoke directly to Robert. ‘I aren’t old
enough.’

Carefully, Robert said, ‘No, we realize that, but we want you to feel involved. We want you to be involved.’

‘Why?’ Joe demanded. ‘Why should you want him – a bastard who’s only just been acknowledged by his own father
after he’s dead
– to have a hand in
running your company?’

Robert spread his hands. ‘It was his grandfather’s wish. I admit, Francis’s turn-about has surprised us just as much as it has you, but we all know that this is what old Samuel
wanted.’

‘Oh aye, an’ he took his time acknowledging him too, didn’t he?’ Joe was vociferous. ‘Eighteen years, to be exact.’ He paused, his eyes narrowing. ‘If
you ask me, you only want
him . . .
’ Joe jabbed his finger first into Sammy’s shoulder and then towards Jeannie, ‘because it’ll give you an excuse to keep seeing
her
.’

‘Joe, how dare you? Apologize at once.’

‘I won’t, ’cos it’s true, ain’t it, mister?’

Calmly, Robert said, ‘Actually, no, it isn’t. This has nothing to do with Jeannie . . . your mother and me.’

Careful, Jeannie wanted to say, careful what you say.

Quietly, in his own way, Robert was trying to explain, trying to win the two young men over, but Jeannie knew it was a hopeless task. ‘Our two families have been intertwined for many
years. Your Grandfather Lawrence worked for the Gorton Trawler Company all his life, first as a deckie-learner, then as a deck-hand, mate and lastly, for many years, as a skipper. Don’t you
think he would have been proud to know that you, Sammy, were an important part of that company now?’

‘No, ’cos he wouldn’t have been proud of his birth. He wouldn’t have been proud of the likes of you bringing his daughter down and causing her death, if it comes to
that.’ It was surprising how Joe was suddenly Sammy’s mouthpiece and even more surprising that Sammy himself seemed content to let his cousin speak for him.

‘George was a good man who would have stood by Grace and would have brought up Sammy and loved him. Just as we have done,’ Jeannie put in.

‘Oh aye,’ Joe flashed at her, the bitterness of years suddenly surfacing. ‘You’ve certainly done that. You treat him more like a son than you do me.’

Still Sammy said nothing, but a slow, burning redness crept up his neck.

‘So, Sammy,’ Robert said, trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous currents. ‘Do I take it that you want nothing to do with the company and that, when you’re
old enough, you intend to sell your shares?’

‘Ah, now I see. You want his shares.’ Still, it was Joe speaking.

‘No,’ Robert said quietly, holding on to his temper. But only just, Jeannie thought, as she saw the impatience flicker in his eyes. ‘What I want, is for Sammy to take a full
and active part in the running of the Company in any way he wants.’

‘How generous,’ Joe said sarcastically.

‘Shut up, Joe,’ Sammy muttered at last. ‘I’ll say what I’m going to do – or not do.’

‘Well, get on an’ say it then, instead of standing there like a piece of wet fish.’

‘I don’t want the shares,’ Sammy said. ‘I don’t want anything to do with the Gortons or their ships. When I come back from the war – if I do –
I’ll get a berth with another line. Mebbe the Hathersage Company or . . .’

Joe gave a bark of wry laughter. ‘Don’t be daft. They’re all one now.’

Sammy’s mouth dropped open and he turned back to Robert. ‘Is that true?’ and when Robert nodded, he said, ‘Oh well, that’s it then. There’ll be no job for me
here after the war.’

‘Now don’t be so hasty,’ Robert tried one last time. ‘Think it over. None of us can do anything until after the war anyway. My brother’s keeping things going as
best he can, but with more than half the fleet requisitioned by the Navy, well, there’s not a lot of fishing being done anyway. Will you at least promise me, Sammy, that after the war’s
over you’ll see how you feel then?’

‘All right,’ the young man said stiffly. ‘But I aren’t going to change me mind.’

‘If you marry that man, I’ll – I’ll never speak to you again, as long as I live. Oh I saw him lookin’ at you.’ His lip curled. ‘And
you at him.’

Jeannie stared at Joe and her mouth tightened. ‘And who are you to tell me what I should or shouldna do?’

‘I’m your son, that’s who. Though you seem to have a job remembering which of us is.’

Robert had left and now the three of them stood facing each other in the cramped kitchen.

Jeannie stared at Joe and shook her head sadly. ‘So, you’d condemn me to a life of loneliness? And for why? What have you got against him?’

‘Me dad hated him and that’s good enough for me. He made Sammy the excuse to keep coming here, didn’t he?’ He glanced at Sammy and then away again. ‘It were him, Mr
Robert, who attacked me dad’s sister. And isn’t
he
the result?’ He flung his hand out towards Sammy.

Aghast, Jeannie said, ‘No, no, you’ve got it wrong. Mr Francis is – was – his father. Grace loved him.’

‘If you believe that, Mam, then you’re daft,’ Joe sneered. ‘After she died, I ’spect Mr Robert thought he’d have a go at you, did he?’

Jeannie was incensed. ‘How dare you speak to me like that! Or say such things about your brother . . .’

‘He’s not my brother. He’s my cousin.’

‘Well . . .’ For a moment Jeannie was confounded. ‘Well, yes, that’s true, but I still won’t have you saying, or believing, such things.’

‘If I’m old enough to fight in a war, I’m old enough to say what I like in my own house. And yes, it is my house. I am head of it.’

‘Not while there’s breath in my body, you’re not,’ Jeannie retaliated.

‘Then,’ he said slowly. ‘I’ll leave.’

‘No,’ Sammy spoke up. ‘If anyone should go, it ought to be me.’

He stood between them, looking at each of them in turn. ‘We’ve never got on, have we, Joe? So, we’d best be going our separate ways. And Mam – for I shall always think of
you as me mam, even though I know the truth now—’

‘Don’t be silly, Sammy,’ Jeannie said sharply. ‘There’s no need to be talking of leaving. This is your home and always will be. All brothers fight.’

‘I tell you, he’s not my brother,’ Joe roared. ‘He’s a Gorton bastard. And he’s too stupid to take what’s handed to him on a plate.’ Now he turned
to face him. ‘God, Sam, you are stupid. Turning down all that money.’

‘Oh aye, I’m stupid all right. Stupid to stand here and let you be me mouthpiece. But me mind’s made up. I’ll make me own way in the world. But one thing I do know.
I’m not the result of a rape, nor am I Mr Robert’s bastard. Like Mam has always said, I’m Francis Hayes-Gorton’s son, ’cos there’s no way a man like him would
have left his will the way he did, if I weren’t. Besides, I asked someone who really knows the truth.’

‘Oh yes, there is,’ Joe said maliciously, referring to the will and ignoring the last part of Sammy’s remark. ‘He left it like that to get back at his brother, Mr
Robert.’

‘What do you mean?’ Both Jeannie and Sammy spoke at once.

Joe smirked triumphantly. ‘Stands to reason, dun’t it? We all know – now – that Mr Francis was having an affair with Mr Robert’s wife. So, he left his shares in the
business between her, what was her name . . .?’

‘Louise,’ Jeannie murmured, without stopping to think.

Joe cast her a glance but went on, ‘Aye, Louise and Sammy. Sammy already had 17 per cent of the shares from the old man, so together him and Louise owned 66 per cent of the company.
Between ’em, they had enough to outvote both Robert and Edwin every time, if they wanted.’

Jeannie gasped. ‘How do you know all this? How do you know such exact figures?’

Joe grinned. ‘It was all set out in Sammy’s letters. I pieced ’em together again and read ’em.’

‘But that’s not the case now, is it?’ Sammy said. ‘She’s dead so Mr Robert’s got all her shares too.’

‘I know that. I’m just saying that I reckon that was the only reason Mr Francis left
you
anything. Because he wanted to get back at his brother.’

‘You could be right, I suppose,’ Sammy said, and Jeannie was sure she detected a note of disappointment in his voice. ‘But why bother leaving me anything at all? Why not leave
the whole lot to her?’

‘Because he wanted to get back at ’em all. At Mr Robert by proving all the rumours true. That he had been having an affair with her and also making it that the Hayes-Gorton family
had to accept you. You still own forty-one and a half per cent of the company. You could make life difficult for them if you wanted. By heck, I wish it were me. I’d mek ’em all sit up
and take notice of me.’ He thumped his chest as he said it.

‘Well,’ Sammy said again. ‘I still don’t want any part of it. Though he’s right about one thing. I’ll make up me mind when the war’s over. A lot can
happen ’afore then.’

‘Sammy,’ Jeannie was frantic now. ‘You didna mean what you said? You will come back here. This is your home.’

The two young men glanced at each other and suddenly Joe grinned and put his arm about Sammy’s shoulder. ‘Course he will, Mam. Don’t worry. I’ll see we both come back
safe and sound.’ He stepped forward and suddenly kissed her cheek. ‘You’d not know what to do with yarsen, if you hadn’t us to keep sortin’ out and getting between us
when we start scrapping.’

She hugged them both swiftly. It was time they were leaving now, but before she let go of Sammy she said, ‘What did you mean when you said you’d been to see someone who knew the
truth about your birth?’

For a moment Sammy looked embarrassed. ‘I went to see Aggie Turnbull.’

Now Joe let out a huge guffaw. ‘Find you a girl, did she? Or do you fancy an older woman?’

He glanced briefly at Joe. ‘Don’t be disgusting, Joe. She’s old enough to be me grandmother. And no, she didn’t find me a girl. I can do that well enough for
mesen.’ Then he turned back to Jeannie again. ‘Mam, she’s very ill. She took bad the day after she’d been here. The day Gran died. She told me everything. Even about her and
me grandad and then about me own mam and Mr Francis. I know the truth now, but I still don’t want anything to do with that family. The Hayes-Gortons. I’ll earn me own living.’

‘I still bet you’ll go to sea on one of his boats, though,’ Joe put in slyly. ‘Ne’er mind what you say now. Work’ll be hard to find after the war.
You’ll be glad to take what you can then, I bet.’

‘Mebbe I will,’ Sammy said quietly. ‘But if I do, it’ll be honest labour and I’ll be paid for the job I do.’

‘Aye, an’ they earn plenty of the sweat off our backs,’ Joe said. ‘You don’t see them going out on them trawlers, putting themselves at the mercy of the North Sea.
Oh no, but they’re quite happy to buy their fancy houses and live like lords on the money we earn for them. And I suppose that’s what you want now, is it, Mam? Living out of town with
Mr Robert in his fancy house and dressed in furs and dripping jewellery. Well, if ya do, you won’t see me any more, I’m telling you.’

‘Joe—’ she began but then Sammy cut in, saying, ‘Mam, I’m sorry, but I’m with Joe on this. If you have owt to do with Mr Robert, then you won’t see me
either.’

She was stunned into silence.

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’ Joe was beaming and he slapped Sammy on the back.

‘And there’s another thing.’ Sammy was going on as if she had nothing to say nor comment to make on their organization of her life. ‘Aggie was asking for you.’

Wordlessly, Jeannie nodded and sat down heavily in the chair. For the first time in the whole of her life she was speechless. She could say nothing.

There was nothing to be said.

She sat beside Aggie’s bed and took the frail, wrinkled hand into her own.

‘Aggie, it’s me. It’s Jeannie.’

She could hardly believe that the woman lying in the bed was indeed Aggie. In just a few days, the woman looked as if she had aged twenty years. The meeting with Nell had taken its toll on Aggie
too.

‘Jeannie?’ Even the voice was different. ‘Oh yes, Jeannie. I’m glad you’ve come. I’m not long for this world and . . .’

‘Oh now, don’t say that, Aggie.’

The smile was wistful. ‘I’m tired and I’m ready to go. There’s no one left now to even mourn me.’

Jeannie felt the tears smart her eyes.

‘So many memories. So many regrets . . .’

Now Jeannie was silent as Aggie continued, her voice a little stronger as she did so. ‘I wanted to see you. There’s something I need to tell you, Jeannie. I suppose I’m looking
for a kind of absolution.’

‘You want to see a priest?’

‘No, no . . .’ Now the smile was almost mischievous again and yet there was still a tinge of regret. ‘No, I’m afraid me and priests haven’t had much to do with one
another for a long time.’ She paused and then went on quietly. ‘I’m sorry for what happened to Nell. Sorry if I caused it.’

‘Nobody could ken that, Aggie. There’s no point in taking the blame.’

Aggie cast her a glance of wry amusement. ‘One more burden of guilt won’t make much extra weight for me.’

She sighed and nestled back against the pillows, glancing away from Jeannie, out of the window at the grey clouds scudding by, though she let her hand lie in Jeannie’s.

‘I wanted to tell you about myself. Do you know, Jeannie, out of all the folks around here, you were the only one I ever wished could be my friend?’ Her smile was wistful as she
added quietly, ‘I knew it was impossible, of course. Not only were you married into the Lawrence family but you were, by nature, a good woman. Not the kind who could ever consort with me and
my sort.’

Jeannie desperately wanted to deny that she had ever judged Aggie, but her innate honesty kept her silent. She knew, to her shame, that she had played her part in shunning Aggie and her like,
had physically dragged Grace from her ‘house of ill repute’ without knowing either what really went on there or anything about the woman everyone was so eager to malign. Unable to say
anything, Jeannie merely patted Aggie’s hand and settled back to listen. That was the very least she could do for the dying woman.