The Fleethaven Trilogy (128 page)

Now her arm was grasped by Rob’s firm grip that
brooked no argument. But this time she had no intention
of arguing; she didn’t know when she had last been so
pleased to see anyone in her life.

‘Aw, want her for yerself, do yer, mate? Well, you’ve
only to say. Not really my type anyway. Not enough meat
in the right places.’ He sneered. ‘Yer welcome.’

‘What – about Janice?’ Ella gasped as Rob hustled her
through the crowds.

‘Never mind Janice Souter. She can tek care of ’ersen.’

‘Well, so can I.’

He stopped and swung her round to face him. ‘Oh,
yeah? It looked like it! You stupid or what, Ella Hilton?
Just what do ya think yar grannie’s going to say to this?’

There was to be no creeping through the yard into the
house and up the stairs for Ella; not with the roar of Rob’s
motorbike echoing through the stillness of the night.

‘Are you determined to wake the whole bloomin’ neighbourhood?’
she snapped, swinging her leg over the back of
his bike and marching towards the back door. As she
reached it, it opened and her grandmother, hair down her
back and dressed in a long, white cotton nightgown, stood
silhouetted in the doorway.

‘And what time do you call this, Missy?’

Ella pursed her lips and glowered, remaining mutinously
silent, but she knew her face to be red with embarrassment
and anger.

Her grandmother swung round now to glare at Rob.
‘And I’m surprised at you, Rob Eland. I trusted you to
bring her home and what do you do? Keep her out till all
hours. Where’ve ya been, I’d like to know, until gone
midnight? Up to no good. Well, ya can forget all ya
gallivanting, girl. That’s the last time I let you go anywhere.
Ya hear me?’

Ella glanced at Rob: his face was bright red, his eyes
dark with anguish under the tirade from the woman he so
admired and, yes, loved. But he just stood there, taking it
all, saying nothing to defend himself because telling the
truth would give Ella away.

Ella sighed. ‘Gran,’ she said, ‘it wasn’t Rob’s fault . . .’
and although she saw him shoot her a warning look, she
went on, ‘it was mine, all mine. He would have brought
me home at ten. He tried to, but I wouldn’t come.’

Her grandmother was silent for a moment, glancing at
first one and then the other. ‘That right, Boy?’

Acutely embarrassed, Rob could only nod.

‘Then I’m sorry for blaming you. But, as for you . . .’
The strong, bony hand came out and gripped her shoulder,
‘I’ve more to say to you in the morning. Ya’ve not heard
the last of this, not by a long way, you ’aven’t!’

At half past five the following morning, though she could
hardly force her eyes open, her head throbbed and every
limb cried out to lie down and rest, Ella dragged herself
from her bed, splashed herself with cold water in the bowl
on her washstand and crept downstairs. Lifting the latch
on the back door, she tiptoed out into the sharp morning
air, the sun streaking the sky pale yellow in the east. She
stood there a moment, breathing in the fresh air, trying to
gather her drowsy senses.

‘First job,’ she murmured to herself. ‘Fetch the cows in.’

She worked until half past eight, until the emptiness in
her stomach was a growling void. Her grandpa, who had
got on his tractor and headed out of the yard, had not said
a word to her and when she went into the kitchen she
found the breakfast table cleared and the pots washed.
There was no sign of her grandmother.

Ella tipped cereal and milk into a bowl and stood at the
sink looking out of the scullery window across the yard. It
was very quiet; the only sounds were the hens scratching
complainingly and the beasts moving restlessly in the
cowshed.

Rinsing her bowl and spoon and leaving them on the
draining board, she went back to the cowshed to herd the
cows along the coastal road back to North Marsh Field.
Returning, she saw her grandfather in the field of wheat
examining its ripeness for harvesting.

‘Grandpa?’ she came up behind him.

‘Ella, love. You made me jump. You’re up early. Did
you have a good time last night?’

She gaped at him, but his head was bent over the waving
corn. ‘Er, I was late home, Grandpa. Didn’t Gran tell you.’

‘No, I was asleep. Oh dear. Are you in trouble?’

She nodded. ‘Big trouble.’ He came towards her and
slipped his arm about her shoulders. His blue eyes twinkled
down at her. ‘Oh dear. I’ll have a talk to her.’

Ella smiled wanly and shook her head. ‘I don’t think
even you can help this time, Grandpa.’

To Ella’s surprise, Esther said no more on the subject,
though in the days that followed she only spoke to Ella to
issue orders and kept her busy from the moment she got
up in the morning until she fell into bed, exhausted, at
night without the desire or the energy to go out anywhere.
And for several nights, a sleepy Tibby found himself
yanked out of the warm and cosy straw in the barn and
carted upstairs to Ella’s bed, where his weight sprawled
across her feet was her only comfort.

When the corn harvest began, Rob seemed to spend as
much time on Brumbys’ Farm as he did on his own.

‘I’ll give you a hand, Ella,’ he would say as he appeared
most afternoons. ‘I’ve telled ya grandpa to go and rest. He
looks done in.’

‘I know.’ Ella’s blue eyes followed the tall figure of her
grandfather, his shoulders stooping, as he walked across
the stubble towards the gate. ‘It’s been so hot these last
few days. Gran says the heat’s getting to him.’

‘Mmm.’ Rob sounded unconvinced, but added, ‘Let’s
hope that’s all it is.’

Ella stared at him. ‘Why? Do you think it could be
something more serious?’

The young man shrugged. ‘I dunno. I’m not a doctor.’

‘Well, he won’t see one and even Gran won’t make him.
She still thinks you have to pay to see a doctor.’

Rob chuckled. ‘Yeah. The old ’uns seem to live in the
past, sometimes, don’t they?’

Later, as they sat behind a stook to eat their dinner, Ella
said, ‘Rob, you know we were talking a bit ago about our
families being related?’

‘Mmm?’ he responded absently, paying more attention
to the sandwich he was munching than to her.

‘I was in Gran’s bedroom yesterday, fetching some
washing for her. I’d forgotten all about it, till I saw it
again.’

They turned towards each other and their faces were
only inches apart, so close she could feel his breath on her
face. ‘Saw what again?’

‘You know that photo your gran has on her sideboard,
that real old one of a soldier in uniform?’

He frowned. ‘Ye-es.’

‘Who is it?’

‘I dunno. I thought it were me grandad. Why?’

‘Because,’ she said slowly, savouring the drama of the
moment, ‘
my
gran’s got one exactly the same on the
mantelpiece in her bedroom.’

He blinked at her. ‘Really?’

Then he turned away and bit into his sandwich. ‘Well,’
he mumbled, his mouth full, ‘we’ll ’ave to ask ’em, then,
won’t we?’

Later, as they parked the tractor in the yard and jumped
down, Rob stretched and yawned. ‘Eh, that was some day.’
He blinked, his eyes red-rimmed with tiredness. ‘I could do
with a pint. Pity the pub got bombed in the war. I could
just about make it to the old Seagull, but I haven’t the
energy to traipse into town.’

‘I reckon there’s some home-made beer in the pantry.’

‘No, ya gran’ll be mad.’

‘She’ll never miss it. She’ll think Grandpa’s had it. I’ll
meet you in the hayloft. We’ll be out of sight there.’

‘Ella, don’t—’ he began, but she was gone.

Moments later she was carrying a flagon of Esther’s
home-made beer across the yard, into the barn and up the
ladder to the hayloft. It was warm and dry, with only the
setting sun slanting tiny shafts of light through the ill-fitting boards.

They nestled into the mounds of dry hay, drinking the
bitter-sweet liquid.

‘When do you start college?’ she asked.

‘About a month’s time, September.’

Ella was silent. She was going to miss him, so much
more than she could ever tell him.

‘Will you miss me?’ she asked, making her tone deliberately
flippant.

‘Oh, indubitably!’

‘By heck, Bumpkin,’ she mimicked his dialect, ‘that’s a
big word for you. Getting into being a college boy already?
It’ll cost us to speak to ya when ya come ho-ame.’

‘You!’ He set down the flagon and reached out towards
her and began to tickle her ribs.

She squealed and squirmed trying to get away from
him, but he held her fast. ‘No, don’t do that. You know
I’m ticklish. Don’t, Rob, stop it!’

They were laughing and rolling over and over on the hay,
legs and arms flailing, romping like two playful puppies.

‘What on earth is going on?’

They froze, staring through the gloom at each other,
their eyes wide.

‘Oh no!’ Ella breathed and as Rob rolled off the top of
her, they both turned frightened eyes to the top of the
ladder to see Esther’s head and shoulders.

‘Get down here this instant,’ she spat at them. ‘Both of
you.’

‘Gran, we’re not doing anything . . .’

But Esther had disappeared, climbing down to stand at
the bottom, waiting for them.

Rob climbed down first and, her heart thumping, Ella
followed, but immediately her feet touched the ground she
swung round to face her grandmother boldly. ‘I know
what you’re thinking, but we were only – well – mucking
about.’

Before she knew what was happening, Esther had
brought her right hand up smartly and dealt a stinging
blow to the left side of Ella’s face, catching her on her left
jawline and making the birthmark redden. ‘Hold ya
tongue, ya little trollop!’ Esther snapped. ‘I might have
known. It’s in the breed, ain’t it? Like ya mother – and
mine for that matter. Eh, an’ I did me best to din it into ya
mam, but no, it’s in the blood. And now you!’

Then she turned her wrath on Rob. ‘And as for you, I
expected better of you, Rob Eland.’

Ella rubbed her sore cheek and glanced at Rob. She saw
him flinch, his face pale. ‘Missus – listen – please. We
weren’t doing nothing, honest. Just – just playing . . .’

‘Oh, aye. ’Spect me to believe that? Ya mun think I
were born yesterday. But ya like ya grandad, too, ain’t
you? A flirt, after anything in skirts!’ She leant closer
towards him, thrusting her face close to his. ‘Get off my
farm, Rob Eland, and dun’t you set foot on it again.
Ya not welcome here and you keep away from her.’ She
flung her arm out towards Ella. ‘Right away. You hear
me?’

All colour drained completely from his face.

Ella gave a cry and clung to his arm. ‘No, Gran, no.
Why won’t you believe us? We weren’t—’

‘I
dun’t
believe you.’

For a brief instant, though his eyes were still staring
straight into Esther’s, Rob touched Ella’s hand where she
was gripping his arm. She heard him sigh. ‘It’s no use, Ella.
I – I’d better go.’

‘Yes, you had,’ Esther said.

‘Gran, please . . .’

As Rob turned away to leave, Esther grasped Ella by
the arm and made to pull her out of the barn and towards
the house. ‘As for you, Missy, up to ya room till I decide
what I’m goin’ to do with you.’

With a swift movement, Ella twisted herself from her
grandmother’s hold. ‘No, I won’t.’

With Rob gone, they faced each other. ‘Ya’ll do as ya
told, else—’

‘Else what, Gran? Else you’ll hit me again?’ She touched
her cheek, still smarting from Esther’s hand. ‘Else you’ll
turn me out? Eh? What? What will you do?’

‘You little madam!’ Esther said through gritted teeth,
her mouth set in a hard line. ‘Aye, an’ I’ve a good mind to
turn you out at that. After all I’ve done for you, and you
do this.’

‘Gran, I’ve done nothing. Rob doesn’t think of me like
that anyway, though I wish he did. I wish we
had
done
something.’

Again Esther’s hand came up, but Ella, half expecting it
now, put up her arm to fend her off and the older woman
let her own fall. ‘Get into the house.’

‘No, I won’t.’ Ella whirled about, grasped the ladder
and began to climb back up to the hayloft.

She felt Esther grab her ankle and she kicked out to
force her to release her hold. She heard Esther cry out.
‘Ouch! Why, you little devil. Kick me, would you?’ And
she turned to see her grandmother, rubbing a point on her
left jawline.

‘Well, we’re quits now, aren’t we, Gran?’ and she turned
to show Esther where the skin around the birthmark on
her own face was glowing bright red.

Ignoring her grandmother’s gasp of shock, Ella climbed
back up into the loft to collapse on to the hay and bury
her face in it, trying to stifle her uncontrollable sobs.

When at last she pulled herself up into a sitting position,
sniffed and rubbed the tears away with the back of her
hand, it had grown darker in the loft and, outside, dusk
was creeping across the farmyard. She heard a rustle in the
hay and saw Tibby picking his way towards her. He
climbed on to her knee and rubbed his face against her
cheek, purring as loudly as he knew how. She hugged him
hard to her and buried her face in his soft fur.

It was over, all over. Fresh tears trickled down her
cheeks. All her hopes for making Rob love her had been
smashed in an instant. And by her grandmother, too. How
she hated that woman!

Grandpa! I must find Grandpa and tell him my side.
He’ll believe me . . .

She had started to scramble up, tipping Tibby unceremoniously into the hay, when she heard shouting in the
yard, shrill voices raised in anger. Women’s voices.

She crept to the ladder and climbed down. Then she
tiptoed to the door of the barn and, keeping hidden behind
it, she peeped out.

In the lengthening shadows two figures stood in the
centre of the yard. As she might have expected, one was
her grandmother, but when Ella recognized the other
figure, she gasped with surprise.