The Harbour Girl (22 page)

‘Aye, do that,’ Nan agreed, rather sourly. ‘You don’t want to be turned away from there, do you?’

‘By heck I don’t,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll slip along now and settle up.’ He burped again. ‘I’ve left a parcel o’ fish in ’bucket at ’back door. Shan’t be long.’

He didn’t come back until late and Jeannie was in bed and almost asleep when he crashed into the house. She heard the back door open and then his grunts as he took off his boots before climbing the creaking stairs. Nan called out to him from her bedroom.

‘Did you lock ’back door?’

‘Aye. I did.’ He stumbled into the bedroom. ‘Like I allus do.’

Jeannie held her breath. She wondered whether to feign sleep but she wanted to talk to him; ask him how the voyage really went and if next time he might get a skipper’s post, but as she heard him struggling to take off his belt and his trousers and unbutton his shirt, she realized that her questions would have to wait until the morning when he was sober.

He fell into bed next to her and put his stubbly cheek next to hers. ‘It’s good to be home,’ he slurred. ‘I missed you, Jeannie. I thought about you all ’time I was away.’

‘Did you, Harry?’ She snuggled up close to him and wondered if it was the drink talking; but even if it is, she thought, it’s what I want to hear.

‘Aye.’ He yawned. ‘I’m glad we got married. It was what Nan wanted as well. She was allus on at me to find somebody else. Somebody who’d be strong for me.’

‘What do you mean, Harry?’ She leaned on her elbow to look at him.

He gave a deep sigh. ‘I’m dead beat, Jeannie. Come here, give us a kiss. We’ll talk in ’morning. We don’t have to be up early. No early rising, thank God.’ He turned over with his back to her. ‘Night!’

Jeannie lay back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. ‘Good night, Harry.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

HARRY DIDN’T GET up until midday the following day. Jeannie excused him, for he must have been tired after the trip. But she was disappointed when, after eating bacon and sausage and two eggs and swilling down two mugs of tea, he put on his coat and said he was going out.

‘Going to fix up another trip?’ she said hopefully. ‘Is there one in the offing?’

He gazed at her. ‘Might be,’ he said. ‘I’ll see what ’news is out on ’road.’

At the Wassand, you mean, she thought resentfully; when do I get to talk to you? And she considered, for the first time, how lonely her life would have been if Nan hadn’t been there. Though she wasn’t much of a conversationalist, at least she was another presence in the house.

‘Nan,’ she said as they worked on Charlie’s net. ‘Harry said last night that you’d wanted him to get married. Why was that? He doesn’t spend much time at home.’

Nan concentrated on her braiding and joined up the knot she was making. ‘Aye, I did. I thought he’d settle down and not get into bad company.’

‘Was there a chance of that?’ Jeannie asked. ‘And he said you wanted him to marry someone strong.’

‘Did he?’ Nan said caustically. ‘That’d be ’drink talking.’ She paused, and then said, ‘Well, there was a – were some local lasses who had their eyes on him – undesirable types. I was a bit worried about that.’ She paused again and then said, ‘That day when you came to ’house – I was angry wi’ pair of you, but then I realized that for you to come all ’way from Scarborough to search him out took some courage.’ She gave what might have passed for a wry smile but was merely a sideways shifting of her thin lips. ‘And you weren’t scared o’ me, not like some folks are, so I reckoned you’d be able to handle Harry.’

Jeannie was flabbergasted. Not only was this the longest speech she had ever heard Nan utter, she was also admitting, to some extent, that she approved of her. She hid a smile. ‘I hope you’re right, Nan,’ she murmured. ‘I really do.’

She finished the net for Charlie in time and he brought another, equally old and tattered. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Seas were rough. I lost a lot o’ fish and had all on to get home. As soon as I mek a profit I’ll buy some new.’

‘Do you need any extra crew?’ she asked him. Harry hadn’t yet got the promise of another ship in spite of going out every day and
asking around
, as he put it.

‘I need a mate,’ he said. ‘It’s an old smack, lug rigged, and teks some handling. I want somebody wi’ experience if they’ll tek lower role and money.’

‘Harry might,’ she said. ‘But you’d have to ask him.’ She dared not suggest it and be accused of interfering. The offer would have to come from Charlie.

‘He’s got a skipper ticket, hasn’t he?’ Charlie said. ‘He won’t want to come on my old tub.’

‘Ask him,’ she said. ‘You’ll find him at the Wassand Arms.’

When Harry came home that evening he announced that he’d be sailing in three days’ time. ‘I’m to be mate, and part-time skipper,’ he said, a slight note of conceit in his voice. ‘Charlie Hodge has been looking for somebody like me with all-round experience.’

‘Oh, I’m so pleased, Harry,’ Jeannie said, and she was. He seemed to have grown a couple of inches and taken on more confidence. ‘I knew there’d be somebody who’d see your worth.’

Harry preened. ‘It was lucky I happened to bump into him. He’s tekken on his da’s smack – well, it were half owned by his da. ’Other owner doesn’t sail now; they’re both past it from what I hear. You never know, I could end up wi’ shares in it.’ He sat down by the fire and stretched his legs. ‘Charlie said you’d mended some nets for him.’

‘Oh,
that
Charlie! Yes, I did. I’m mending another for him as well. Three days?’ she said, smiling. ‘I’d better try to finish it before you sail, then you can take it with you; don’t want you losing any fish.’

He took two more trips with Charlie. They were equally qualified, which meant that Charlie could rely on him, but Harry was less of a seaman than the skipper; though he knew his sails and rigging, the running gear and pumps, knew the tides, buoys and beacons, he was less proficient than Charlie in the keeping of charts and judging the nature of the fishing grounds. Nevertheless, they worked well together.

The weather was getting bad. Winter was drawing in fast and the last trip they made was fraught with danger. They’d sailed to the Dogger Bank, which was as far as Charlie said he wanted to sail in the old smack; they’d come across stormy weather and the craft had taken in water.

‘’Young lad did well,’ Harry told Jeannie, speaking of the apprentice on his return home. ‘But he was dead scared. He was kept bailing for hours and then he was hit by ’boom and all but went overboard. I fastened him to ’mast in ’finish. Don’t know if he’ll come back, but in any case Charlie’s got to have some work done afore he can tek ’ship out again. Pity. There was loads of fish. You can tell by ’colour of ’water if shoals are about and herring were practically flying into ’nets.’ He gave a little grunt. ‘And yet to hear some folks talk they say we’re fishing ’seas dry.’

Jeannie was only half listening. She thought of Ethan being tied to the mast all those years ago; and then thought of her mother and the herring girls. She’d had a reply to her letter in which Mary had told her that Susan Wharton was courting a butcher, a widower, and that there might be wedding bells. She’d also said that the herring fleet had been and she’d caught up with news from her old friends.

I wish I could see her, she thought, but there’s no chance now. I can’t risk going, and besides I have to make as much money as possible. Maybe after the bairn is born I could go on the train. Ma will want to see it.

She was beginning to feel tired, and standing on her feet all day mending the nets was taking its toll. Nan suggested that as Harry was at home he could bring the nets inside where she could sit down.

‘Don’t you mind?’ Jeannie asked her. ‘I didn’t think you’d want that.’

‘Can’t turn work away,’ Nan said. ‘I’ll tek ’rugs up and move ’table back and then there’s nowt to harm.’

So Jeannie put on her rubber apron and sat by the fire and Harry brought in the nets for her to repair on her knee.

‘You sure you’re all right doing ’em, Jeannie?’ Harry asked one morning. He seemed quite solicitous and Jeannie thought that perhaps Nan had had a quiet word and told him that her time was almost due. ‘Don’t want you mekking yourself badly.’

‘I’m all right.’ She smiled. ‘And we need the money, don’t we? Another mouth to feed.’

He nodded, and went out shortly afterwards. He didn’t come in until well after dinner time and Nan had put his meal in the oven to keep warm.

‘Got a ship,’ he announced. ‘I’m going out with Mike Gardiner’s lad again.’

‘Fleeting?’ Jeannie asked. ‘I thought you didn’t want to. What position?’

‘Onny third,’ he said. ‘But I told him I was willing to do it if he’d have me. Telled him I had a bairn on ’way and needed ’money.’

‘Oh, Harry!’ Jeannie was overcome with emotion. ‘Thank you.’

He grinned. ‘Can’t have you losing ’bairn, can we, and it means you don’t have to tek on so much work.’

There wasn’t much anyway, she thought. She’d finished Charlie’s nets and now his ship was laid up there wouldn’t be any more for a while. She had one more to do for Mike and he hadn’t promised any others. ‘I’ll be glad of the rest,’ she told Harry, and that night in bed he was tender and considerate and she felt happier than she had in a long time. ‘Come safe home,’ she whispered, and thought that when he did come home there might well be another person in the house.

Harry had said that he’d be home for Christmas, and in the weeks running up to it Jeannie and Nan had prepared a plum pudding, mixed mincemeat for pies, and ordered a piece of beef, sausage meat and a pork pie from the butcher for Christmas Day.

‘Hope I’ll be able to eat it,’ she told Nan. ‘I’ve a feeling I might be otherwise engaged.’

‘I’ll ask Mrs Norman to call again,’ she said. ‘She’ll know.’

Billy’s mother had called to see her once before and told Jeannie that she seemed very fit and there were no apparent problems. This time when she came she said that she thought the baby was due very soon. ‘Call me in if you need me,’ she said. ‘Any time, don’t matter when. Unless you want ’doctor to come?’

Jeannie didn’t. They hadn’t the money to pay for him, for one thing, and for another, she had never to her knowledge ever seen a doctor. Her mother always had a host of remedies for any childhood ailments, of which there had been few. She and Tom had had a healthy childhood, spending most of their time out in the sea air. She began to take short walks in the mornings and then after the midday meal sat in a chair and rested. She felt heavy and sluggish, but thought that the walks did her good even though the weather was sharp and cold. The sky was often bright but then low cloud would descend and she felt that snow was on its way.

On Sunday morning after Nan had gone to chapel, Jeannie wrapped up warmly and went out of the terrace and on to the road; she too was beginning to refer to Hessle Road just as
the road
, as the locals did. Ahead of her she saw Connie trudging along with her head down, and called her name.

There was no response, though Jeannie thought there was a slight stiffening of the girl’s shoulders. ‘Connie!’ she called again. This time Connie turned round.

‘Oh!’ She looked relieved and her tense body relaxed. ‘It’s you, Jeannie. I didn’t hear you …’

‘Are you all right, Connie? How’s your hand? Are you back at work?’

Connie nodded. ‘I did what you said and went to show them my hand. Somebody strapped it up for me, and ’foreman said he’d keep my job open. I’m back now, though it still hurts.’ She held out her hand and Jeannie saw it was still puffy and bruised. ‘Has Harry gone to sea? I’ve – I’ve not seen him about much.’

‘Yes,’ Jeannie said. ‘He’s gone fleeting. He’ll be home for Christmas.’ She smiled. ‘Babby’s due any time, so it’ll be a Christmas present for him.’

‘Oh, that’ll be nice.’ Connie’s voice was low and without enthusiasm. ‘You’re lucky, aren’t you? I wish – I wish …’

‘What? What do you wish, Connie?’

Connie shrugged. ‘I wish I was you. Looking forward to havin’ a bairn and havin’ somebody like Harry to look after me.’

Jeannie reflected that Harry hadn’t done much looking after her, not until the week he’d gone away when he had suddenly become considerate. But then, she thought, if Nan were to be believed, in Connie’s eyes even what she had must seem perfect.

‘Don’t you have a young man, Connie?’ she asked. Connie was older than her, maybe about twenty.

‘Who’d have me?’ Connie’s voice was bitter. ‘I’m not pretty like you. No man’d look at me.’

‘Oh, that’s not true,’ Jeannie said quickly, unable to suppress the thought that it was true Connie was not in the front row when beauty was given out. ‘You have lovely eyes. Such long lashes.’

‘But nowt else,’ Connie muttered.

‘Looks aren’t everything,’ Jeannie said feebly. ‘Men want a wife to talk to and bear their children, someone to be comfortable with. They don’t want to be looking at a beautiful face for the whole of their lives, and if they did, they’d be disappointed. Anyway,’ she added, ‘there are very few handsome men about, so why should women care?’

Connie looked at her and Jeannie thought she saw a fleeting glimpse of jealousy in those brown eyes. ‘It’s all right for you,’ she muttered. ‘You’ve got Harry.’