The Fleethaven Trilogy (131 page)

Danny’s gaze at Esther was steady, unflinching. ‘You
know how – how I’ve always respected you, Missus, and
yes, loved you, right from being a young lad. I’m not trying
to put all the blame on you.’

‘That’s very generous of you,’ Esther said, her tone
laced with sarcasm.

‘Esther, love,’ Jonathan said softly, tightening his arm
around her.

Resolutely, Danny went on, ‘Me mam’s as much to
blame, but the secrets you and she tried so hard to keep hidden very nearly destroyed Kate and me. I won’t let the
same thing happen to Ella.’ His voice was hoarse with
emotion as he added, ‘If she had still been here, Kate
would have told her everything by now. I’m sure of it.’

Esther turned suddenly, pulling herself out of her husband’s
arms and she rushed towards the door, turning
back only to fling out her arm in a gesture of dismissal.
‘You say you “respect” me, but you’d have her know all
me shame. Go on then, tell her, but she’ll get nowt out o’
me! Not ever.’ Then she ran out through the scullery and
across the yard towards the sand-dunes, seeking refuge out
in the open at the end of the Spit, but not before Ella had
seen the tears in her grandmother’s eyes.

The sight shook the girl so that she felt herself turn pale
and gripped the edge of the table. ‘Oh Grandpa, we’ve
upset her. Maybe we shouldn’t . . .’

He smiled and put up his hand to still her words. ‘She’ll
be all right. Don’t worry, Ella. You go with Danny
tomorrow, then maybe you’ll understand your grannie
better.’

That night, Ella could hardly sleep. She tossed and turned
until her bed was an uncomfortable, tumbled heap and by
ten o’clock the next morning when Danny’s car pulled into
the yard at Brumbys’ Farm to pick her up, her eyes were
red-rimmed with tiredness and there was a dull ache at the
back of her head.

But nothing, she told herself, as she climbed into the
passenger seat, was going to stop her going today.

As they drove along the coast road, Ella said, ‘Have you
told Aunty Rosie and Grandma Eland what we’re doing?’

‘Yes.’

‘And?’

‘And what?’

‘Do – do they mind?’

Danny grinned. ‘My mother’s as a’kward as your gran
sometimes, but when I explained it all to her, she came
around. You see, it’s her secret as well. When it all
happened, well, it was a shameful thing in them days.’ He
raised his shoulders. ‘We’re getting a bit kinder towards
such mistakes, but not fast enough to my idea.’

‘I still don’t understand.’

‘All in good time, Ella. All in good time.’

She smiled at him. ‘You’re enjoying this, Uncle Danny,’
she accused. ‘Aren’t you?’

‘Well, it’s a day out, a day away from work. And with
a pretty girl.’ His smile broadened. ‘What more could an
old feller like me want, eh?’

‘Where are we’re going?’

‘Suddaby.’

The name sounded familiar as if she should know but
couldn’t just quite remember. ‘Where’s that?’

‘About fifteen miles inland. I’m going to tell you everything
from the very beginning, at least the beginning as far
as we’re all concerned. Then we’ll come back to Lynthorpe
and, finally, back to Fleethaven . . .’ His voice dropped as
he said, more to himself than to her, ‘Everything comes
back to Fleethaven.’

They drove in silence for a while until Danny said
suddenly, ‘I hope today’s not going to upset you too much.’

‘Upset me? Why should it?’

‘Well, I didn’t know if talking about ya mam upsets
you.’

She sighed. ‘I’d like to talk about her, to know more
about her. But no one seems to want to mention her name.
It’s as if she’s a taboo subject. Grandpa will sometimes
speak about her, but not for long, and as for Gran, well, I
don’t think anyone dare say Mum’s name in front of her.’

‘Mmm.’ He was silent for a moment, then he murmured,
‘Well, perhaps after today things might become a
little clearer for you.’

They were driving through the winding lanes of a
village. ‘This is Suddaby. Do you remember the very first
time you came to Fleethaven Point? To a funeral?’

She nodded. ‘Yes. I saw the old man in his coffin.’

Danny glanced at her in surprise. ‘Did you? Did you
really? Well, that was your great-grandfather, your gran’s
dad, Will Benson. I think,’ he slowed the car down to a
crawl past a line of cottages, ‘that he lived here somewhere,
but I can’t be absolutely sure.’

Ella looked at the line of cottages, whitewashed with
pretty gardens, their polished windows twinkling in the
sun.

The car rounded a corner and they came to the church.
Danny pulled on to the grass verge near the gate and they
got out. Walking up the curving path, it was peaceful in
the churchyard, only the birds fluttering in the tall trees,
calling to each other.

Ella suddenly pointed excitedly. ‘I do remember now.
Rob threw sticks up into that tree. That was at the old
man’s funeral, wasn’t it? I remember it ’cos Mum was
walking with you and no one was taking any notice of me.
I went galloping across all the graves to get to Rob . . .’
She gave a fleeting smile. ‘Gran was shouting at me even
then.’

Danny said nothing, just nodded. He led her round the
corner of the church and amongst the graves until he
stopped in front of a row of three identical headstones.
Ella felt her pulse quicken. At last, she was going to hear
the story from the very beginning, hear all the secrets that
had so dogged her life, half whispered snippets that had
made no sense to the young child and yet had seemed to
affect her life so deeply.

Danny pointed to the headstone in the centre. ‘That’s
your great-grandfather’s grave.’

Ella read the inscription. ‘In loving memory of William
Benson born 20th June 1860 died 23rd January 1953.’

‘Goodness, he was ninety-two when he died.’

Danny grinned. ‘Look well if your gran teks after him.’

Ella laughed. ‘I wouldn’t put it past her.’ Her glance
went to the headstones on either side of Will. One read ‘In
loving memory of Rebecca Benson, beloved wife of William
Benson, departed this life 30th March 1919, aged 62
years. Her reward is in Heaven.’

‘So this is Gran’s mother, is it?’ Ella murmured.

‘No,’ Danny said quietly at her side. ‘No, it isn’t. That’s
the whole point, lass. This . . .’ he was pointing to the
headstone on the other side of Will ‘. . . is your gran’s
mother and your great-grandmother.’

Ella gasped as she leant forward and read the inscription.
‘In loving memory of Constance Everatt who fell
asleep 9th June 1893, aged nineteen years. The Lord giveth
and the Lord taketh away.’

‘Everatt? That’s the name your mam called my gran
when they were rowing that day. Esther Everatt, she called
her.’ Ella was looking now from one headstone to the
other, trying to work it all out.

Danny’s voice came softly. ‘Will Benson was married to
Rebecca. They never had any children and then he fell in
love with Connie Everatt, a young lass in the village. She
had a bairn, ya gran, but died three days after giving birth.’

Ella gasped. Now the mists of a shameful secret were
beginning to clear, floating away to reveal the truth.

‘Esther was brought up by her aunt Hannah, Connie’s
sister. She was an old battle-axe, by all accounts. Never
showed ya gran any love and just treated her as a skivvy
for her own large family of kids.’

‘Did Gran know who her father was all the time?’

Danny shook his head. ‘Old Will didn’t acknowledge
her as his daughter for years, not until after his wife had
died, but he always kept a watch over her. I expect
everybody in Suddaby village knew, but nothing was said
outright. Y’know how it is?’

‘So,’ Ella murmured, ‘her aunt was pretty hard on Gran,
was she?’

Danny snorted. ‘That’s an understatement, lass, from
what I’ve heard. Reckon ya gran might have been happier
in the workhouse, and that’s saying summat.’

Ella stood for a few moments staring down at the grave
of the young nineteen-year-old girl who had died so
tragically young and whose early death had left her bastard
child to the mercy of a cruel aunt. ‘I asked at that funeral
who this girl was and it all went deathly silent. No
wonder!’

They turned and walked back through the churchyard.

‘At sixteen,’ Danny went on, ‘Esther left the cottage
here in the village and walked through the night to
Fleethaven Point. Will, on his rounds as a carrier, knew
that old Sam Brumby was past managing his farm and
needed help, even though the stubborn old goat wouldn’t
admit it!’

‘Is that how Gran came to live there, then? Just like
that. Came to work for Sam – and – and stayed?’

Danny smiled, but there was a tinge of sadness in his
smile. ‘Aye, put simply, that’s about it.’

‘But there’s more?’

He sighed. ‘Oh, aye, lass, there’s more. A lot more.’

Back at the car they both paused and looked about
them. ‘I’m sorry I can’t tell you exactly where Will lived or
where your gran lived as a child with her aunt.’

‘It’s all right.’ She looked up at him. ‘I’m surprised you
know so much. How come?’

He opened the car door, got in and slammed it shut
before he said. ‘You’ll see.’

They drove slowly out of the village and up a hill. Near
the top, he pulled in on to the wide grass verge and
switched off the engine. They sat for a few moments
looking out over the rolling countryside before them.
Below a tractor put-putted its way across the field, stopping
every few yards for the stooks to be loaded on to the
trailer.

‘There’s a basket in the back ya aunty Rosie’s packed
up. Let’s have a bite, shall we?’

Suddenly, Ella realized she was very thirsty – and
hungry. In her excitement or apprehension that morning,
she wasn’t sure which, she had eaten very little breakfast.

She got out of the car and climbed into the back seat
where she unpacked the basket and handed ham sandwiches
wrapped in greaseproof paper to Danny.

‘I’ll take you to see the old airfield next.’

‘Why?’ Ella asked, and bit into her sandwich.

‘It was an operational bomber station during the war.
Ya mam was a WAAF there. Now,’ he smiled, ‘I know I’m
overrunning me tale a bit, but if I tried to tell you
everything just in the order it happened, we’d be running
round the countryside, backwards and for’ards all day.’

Ella grinned at him. ‘It’s all right. I think I’ll fit all the
pieces together when I know them. I always was good at
jigsaws.’

Danny guffawed. ‘Oh, this is a jigsaw, an’ no mistake.’

‘I knew Mum was in the WAAFs. Aunty Isobel and
Aunty Mave – they’re my godmothers – she met them
then.’

‘That’s right.’ Danny nodded.

‘I haven’t seen them in years. Not since Mum’s funeral.’
Ella sighed. ‘Gran would never let me go back to Lincoln
to visit anybody, not even Aunty Peggy. It was always the
same, “No, we need you here.” I knew it was only an
excuse. This last Christmas was the very first time I’d been
back in six years.’

‘I think,’ he said slowly, ‘she’s always been afraid you
wouldn’t come back if you once got back to Lincoln.’

Ella laughed wryly. ‘She was probably right, too,’ her
tone sobered and there was a trace of bitterness as she
added, ‘though I’d have thought she’d have been pleased
to see the back of me.’

‘Now, now, don’t talk like that, young Ella,’ he admonished
gently, but his understanding smile took away the
sting. He, better than anyone perhaps, seemed to understand
what her life was like at Brumbys’ Farm.

They packed up the basket again and she slid back into
the front seat. They drove down the hill and soon came to
the derelict airfield, its concrete runways dotted with tufts
of grass and broken pieces of rubble, its control tower
echoing with ghostly memories, the door squeaking as it
swung to and fro in the wind. Danny pulled the car to a
halt and switched off the engine. For a few moments he
did not seem to be here in the car with Ella, but looking
back to the days of the war, hearing again the vibrant
noise of the Lancaster bombers as they took off into the
night.

‘My squadron was posted here, to Suddaby, where Kate
was, but on the first mission out of here I was shot down
and taken prisoner. I had a bad leg wound, hence the
limp.’ He glanced at her and grinned swiftly. ‘I never got
the chance to talk to her much then and I didn’t manage
to get repatriated until, oh, mid-way through ’forty-three.
She’d left the WAAF by then . . .’ He turned and looked
straight at Ella. ‘She’d got you.’

She returned his gaze and said quietly, ‘Uncle Danny,
do you know who my dad was?’

He did not answer her question immediately but got
out of the car and stretched his limbs, his arms above his
head. Ella got out too and together they walked on to the
deserted airfield and towards the dilapidated control tower
before he said, ‘No, not really.’

She looked at him, her head slightly on one side. ‘Sounds
as if you have your suspicions, though.’

‘As far as I know, Kate never told a living soul.’

‘Not even him?’

Danny sighed and shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’

Her heart contracted. She swallowed. ‘Do you mean –
he was killed – in the war – and she never got the chance?’

‘No, no,’ Danny said swiftly. ‘Not that.’ He stopped,
but she knew there was more. She bit her lip to stop herself
pressing him. He would tell her in his own time, but she
knew this was a difficult day – for both of them. So many
emotions, so many memories being dragged out and laid
bare.

‘When Kate told me about you, she said she couldn’t
marry the father – sorry, your father . . .’ his voice dropped
to a whisper ‘. . . because he was already married.’

Her heart felt like a lump of lead in her chest, heavy
and cold. ‘So,’ she said and could hardly keep the tears
from her voice, ‘he won’t want me either.’