The Fleethaven Trilogy (62 page)

‘Dun’t ask me – ask him.’

‘She must be something to him, though. I’d better look after her, else Will’ll have me guts fer garters.’

Kate shivered and drew her knees up, curling herself into a ball for warmth. The woman must have noticed for at once she began issuing orders.

‘Get me some kindling fer the fire an’ fill the kettle . . .’

‘Hang on a mo,’ came the carrier’s reproachful voice. ‘I’ve to be on me way. There’s me round to see to. I’ve come out o’ me way to bring her ‘ere as it is.’

‘Nathaniel Wallis, if this is some relation of Will Benson’s . . .’ The words hung in the air like a threat.

‘Aye, aye, all right, Millie, you win. I’d not like to get wrong side o’ Will Benson and no mistake.’ The man chuckled and Kate heard his footsteps leave the room.

‘Now, me little lass.’ The woman was bending over her, a rough kindness in her voice. ‘Let’s get you out o’ them wet things . . .’

In her delirium, Kate imagined it was Mrs Eland helping her out of her wet clothes after her soaking in the sea; Danny’s mother who was sponging her face, tucking a warm blanket around her and holding a mug of warm milk to her lips.

Then Danny would soon be home too . . .

‘Danny?’ she tried to ask and did not recognize her own feeble squeak of a voice.

‘There’s no Danny here, little lass,’ the woman said.

Kate opened her eyes and struggled to focus them. It was not Mrs Eland. Then where . . .?

‘Dun’t fret. Yar – Will Benson’ll soon be home.’

That was it, Kate thought dreamily. Her grandad. She had come to find her grandad.

It seemed only moments later that she heard his voice and then he was there kneeling beside the sofa and stroking her head and saying, ‘Oh, me little Katie, me little girl. What have they done to ya?’ And Kate knew she was safe at last.

She put her arms round his neck and felt his cool cheek against her hot forehead. ‘Ee lass, ya burning up.’

‘I’ve sponged her, Will, and made her drink, but she’s poorly. Reckon ya should get her home and tell her folks to get the doctor – ne’er mind the cost.’

‘Mebbe she’d better stay here . . .’

Kate gave a whimper at his words. ‘No, Grandad. Tek me home. Please – tek me home!’

‘All right, lass, all right.’ He turned to the woman. ‘She’ll be all right if we wrap her warm in blankets, won’t she?’

‘Well . . .’ The woman hesitated, reluctant to take responsibility, but as Kate’s eyes filled with tears she said, ‘I reckon she’ll mek ’ersen worse fretting if you dun’t tek her home, Will.’

Kate closed her eyes with thankfulness. Soon, soon she would be home. Above her, she heard the woman ask, ‘Just who is she, Will? She ses she’s yar grand-daughter. I thought she must be rambling, but now I ain’t so sure.’

‘You mind ya business, Millie Raby, and let me mind mine,’ came her grandfather’s sharp reply.

‘Oh, sorry I spoke, I’m sure. After I’ve looked after the little lass most o’ the afternoon an’ all.’

Will sniffed and muttered gruffly, ‘I’m sorry, Millie, I meant nowt. But I’m fair worried about her. She’s ill. And I’d like to lay me ‘ands on who’s cut all her lovely hair off. That Ah would!’

Millie Raby’s curiosity overcame her pique. ‘So you do know her then?’

‘Aye, I do,’ Will said shortly and then added, ‘She is me grand-daughter. She’s Esther Everatt’s daughter.’

Mrs Raby gave a gasp of surprise. ‘Esther . . . Well, I nivver! Esther Everatt! Esther’s bastard, is she?’

‘No, she’s not,’ Will’s voice thundered, almost shaking the sofa where Kate lay. ‘Esther was married a good year afore this little lass was born.’

‘Well, I was just remembering about Esther an’ how she left this village all sudden-like . . .’

‘Well, ya can stop remembering and putting two and two together and mekin’ five. Help me get the lass into me cart. I’m tekin’ her home where she belongs. An’ this time she’ll stay there, else Ah’ll know the reason why!’

The woman gave a low chuckle. ‘Well, Will Benson, they ses as how ya reap what ya sow. It looks to me as if ya wild oats from years back have brought you a bitter harvest.’

‘That’s where ya wrong, Millie Raby. Wild oats I might ‘a sown, but if this little lass is me harvest I couldn’t have asked for a greater blessing.’

Kate heard the words of their strange conversation but in her weakened state had no way of knowing if it was all part of her delirium. She was only blissfully aware that her grandfather was here and she was safe, and that he was picking her up tenderly and laying her in blankets in the back of his cart.

‘Thank ’ee, Millie. Ah’ll not forget ya help this day.’

‘Eh, Will . . .’ Kate saw the woman put her hand on his arm for a moment. ‘We’ve been neighbours for more years than I care to remember, and I know I’m a nosey old beezum,’ she cackled with laughter at the insult to herself, ‘but ya secret’s safe with me, I promise.’

Through the haze of her drowsiness, Kate heard her grandfather’s chuckle. ‘Aye, ya not such a bad old stick at that, Millie Raby.’

‘Get away wi’ ya and get yon lass home.’

This time, despite the rattling of the cart and warm and cosy in a mound of blankets, Kate did sleep, only rousing now and then to call to her grandfather. ‘Are we there yet, Grandad?’

‘Not far, lass, not far now.’

‘Is Danny there, Grandad?’

A pause and then he answered, ‘Aye, Danny’ll be there.’

‘I can’t eat the gooseberries, Grandad. Dun’t mek me eat the gooseberries.’

‘What’s that you say, lass, I dun’t understand you . . .?’

Kate was asleep again and the next time she awoke she could hear the sea. It was her whelk shell. She was hearing the sea in her shell – the shell Danny had given her. She felt for the pocket of her coat. But she was not wearing her coat.

‘Me shell, Grandad. I’ve lost me shell. Isobel’s got me shell . . .’

But now she could smell the salt air and hear the waves across the marsh. It wasn’t her shell. It was real.

Then Kate knew she was home.

Will himself carried her from his carrier’s cart and into the farmhouse, straight up the stairs and into her own bedroom. Tenderly he laid her on her bed. Her mother and stepfather followed, bewildered and anxious.

‘Oh Katie, my darling girl.’ Her mother was bending over her, caressing her with gentle, loving hands.

‘Mam, dun’t be angry, dun’t send me back. I dun’t mind if you love Lilian more, but please dun’t make me go back.’ Then Kate began to cough, a tearing sound from deep in her chest.

Her mother’s voice was a frantic whisper. ‘Dear Lord! What has happened to her? She’s so thin and who’s cut her hair?’

‘Now listen to me, Esther,’ Kate heard her grandfather say, ‘this lass stays put and if you try to send her away again, ya’ll have me to answer to.’

Kate looked up into her mother’s face and felt her hand upon her forehead. ‘Ya needn’t worry, Dad,’ Esther was saying. ‘But someone’ll answer for this. Oh yes, someone will definitely have to answer me a few questions.’

‘Mam – I haven’t got to go back, have I?’

‘No, my love, dun’t fret. Ya never going back there.’

Kate closed her eyes. The sound of their voices came and went and she felt herself undressed and put between the sheets with hot bricks wrapped in cloth placed at her feet and on either side of her. As she began to sweat the fever out, she fretted no more. She was home for good. Her mother had promised.

And for all Esther Godfrey’s strictness, she never broke her promises.

S
he was having strange dreams; she was trying to run but her feet were like lead, her heart was thudding in her chest and she couldn’t move. Then it felt as if someone at the end of her bed was lifting her legs.

‘Mam, dun’t lift me legs. It feels funny. Dun’t lift me legs.’

‘Katie love, I’m not touching your legs,’ came her mother’s voice as if from a great distance, and she heard her stepfather’s gentle voice too. ‘It’s the fever, Esther. She delirious. Bathe her forehead again.’

Then Kate felt the cool dampness on her forehead and the throbbing eased a little. ‘Me shell – she’s got me shell. She wouldn’t give it back . . .’ she murmured.

She awoke once to see Dr Blair’s kindly face bending over her as he gently spooned liquid between her lips. ‘There, there, my dear. We’ll soon have you up and running about again . . .’

She heard him speaking to her mother in his deep voice. ‘She’ll be fine, Esther, really. It’s clear the child hasn’t been eating properly and she’s exhausted. She obviously got very chilled trying to get home, but there’s no real harm done. All she needs is a few days in bed. She’ll feel a little weak when she first gets up, but with Fleethaven’s good fresh air and your good food . . .’

Then her mother’s voice. ‘Thank goodness. I – I thought she’d got pneumonia.’

‘No – nothing like that, I assure you, but Kate’s been very distressed about something, Esther.’

‘Yes – and as soon as she’s better, I mean to find out exactly what’s been going on.’

Another time Kate opened her eyes to see Rosie standing beside her bed clutching a posy of wild flowers. The child’s face was unusually solemn, and her voice was only a whisper. ‘Katie, I’ve brought you some flowers – to make you better. Do get better, Katie.’

‘Danny? Where’s Danny?’ Kate croaked. ‘Why hasn’t he been to see me?’

The child hopped from one foot to the other. ‘He – he wanted to come – but he wasn’t sure . . .’

‘Tell him I want to see him.’

Kate closed her eyes again. When next she opened them, Rosie had gone and her mother was once again sitting beside her bed holding her hand. Every time Kate awoke, her mother was there.

After a couple of days sleeping most of the time, Kate, although still weak, began to feel better. It was her mother who had dark shadows beneath her eyes now.

‘Oh Katie,’ she said, putting her arms about her daughter and holding her close. ‘You had us all frightened. Kate, listen to me a minute. When you were rambling, you said something about me loving Lilian more than you.’

Kate buried her face against her mother’s shoulder. ‘I dun’t remember.’

Her mother stroked the short cropped hair and murmured, ‘They say ya speak the truth when you’re in that sort of state. But that was not the reason I wanted you to go away to school. I love you dearly. I would never love one of me children more than the other. But a baby takes up a lot of time and attention and I can see it must ’ave felt like that for you, specially because ya’d been the only one for so long.’

When the girl did not answer, Esther said, ‘Do you understand, Katie?’

Against her mother’s shoulder she nodded, then drew back and looked into her face. ‘Then why did you send me away?’

Esther Godfrey sighed heavily. ‘Oh, Katie, there are things you dun’t understand . . .’

‘Then tell me.’

Her mother avoided Kate’s direct gaze and unusually for her she stumbled over her words. ‘I was worried – you see you’re getting older now – and there are so many dangers for a young girl – a young woman almost . . .’

‘Mam, just tell me.’

‘I – I was afraid you were getting too close – too involved with – with the boys at the Point.’

‘You mean Danny, don’t you?’

‘Well – yes. He’s a young man now and – and young men start to – well – want things from girls.’

Softly Kate said, ‘Danny wouldn’t hurt me, Mam,’ and then added with a little of her old spark, “Sides, if he tried anything, he’d soon get a kick right where it hurts!’

Kate saw Esther’s mouth twitch with laughter, despite the anxiety clouding her eyes. Then her face sobered again. ‘Kate, I want you to give me your solemn promise that you will never, ever, let Danny . . . touch you.’ Knowing just what a promise meant to her mother, that they were never given lightly, Kate hesitated. ‘Why, Mam?’ she pressed.

‘He – he’s not for you, Kate, not in that way. Friends, yes, but there – there can’t be anything else.’

‘Oh Mam, surely you don’t think I’m stupid enough to let anybody – including Danny – touch me before I’m wed. You’ve drilled that into me ever since – well, as long as I can remember.’

Kate watched her mother’s face, saw conflicting emotions crossing it, as if there was a fight going on inside her head. ‘What
is
it, Mam?’

‘Nothing – nothing. It’ll be all right, if ya’ll promise me that.’

Kate sensed it wasn’t ‘nothing’. There was something her mother wasn’t telling her. But there was nothing the young girl could do to prise whatever it was out of her mother. Instead she said airily, ‘Oh yes, I can promise you that much, Mam.’

For the moment her pledge seemed to satisfy her mother.

What Kate did not voice, and what she had only just realized herself as a result of this conversation with her mother, was a silent vow she made to herself.

One day I’ll marry Danny Eland.

It seemed that having gained Kate’s promise, her mother’s fears regarding Danny were allayed. The very next day Kate heard her voice calling from the bottom of the stairs, ‘Kate, Kate you’ve got a visitor. Up you go.’

She heard footsteps on the stairs and even before the door of her bedroom was pushed wider, she knew it was Danny.

He stood in the doorway, grinning at her, his dark hair tousled, his skin weathered brown and glowing with health. Then she saw the smile fade. ‘Oh, Kate – ya pretty hair,’ he sympathized, moving into the room and coming to perch on the end of her bed. ‘Did ya mam have to cut it off because of the fever?’

Kate shook her head. The nightmare was back; the scissors, the strong arms and her face pressed against Miss Denham’s corseted bosom.

‘I – I dun’t want to talk about it . . .’

His grin was back. Comfortingly he said, ‘Well, it’ll grow again. ‘Sides, it’s lovely and curly when it’s short, in’t it?’

‘You’re just saying that to cheer me up.’ But she too was grinning now. Then the smile wobbled a little. ‘Danny – when I ran away from the school, I left the whelk shell you gave me.’

‘Dun’t worry about that – plenty more on the beach. I’ll bring you another.’

‘But that was special,’ she murmured, leaning back against the pillows, ‘it was the biggest you’d ever found – and I’ve lost it.’ Because she was still weak, easy tears filled her eyes.