The Harbour Girl (23 page)

‘I know,’ Jeannie said softly. ‘But Harry and I knew at our first meeting – we just – well, there was something special between us. It wasn’t as if I knew anything about him; I didn’t know his family or if he had another girl.
Did
he have another girl? Was there ever anybody else?’

Connie dropped her gaze. ‘Dunno. None that I knew of.’

But you wanted him, didn’t you? Jeannie thought. And you’d have every reason to stop and chat to him without it being obvious that you were totally besotted, because he was your friend’s brother. But he didn’t want you. Poor Connie. But it wouldn’t have worked anyway, because Nan wouldn’t have accepted you. She considers your family as the enemy – and then she recalled what Nan had said when she had asked why she had wanted Harry to be married: there had been some undesirable types of women, she’d replied. Not
some
, Jeannie thought. She meant Connie; she had seen that Connie wanted Harry and was determined to put a stop to it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

JEANNIE TUCKED HER arm into Connie’s. ‘Do you mind if I walk with you?’ she said. ‘I don’t often get the chance to talk to somebody of my own age.’

She felt Connie tense and look about her; then she said lamely, as they walked on, ‘I’m older than you. I’m ’same age as Harry. We went to school together.’

‘Oh, did you?’ Jeannie said, adding chattily, ‘Do you see much of Rosie? I haven’t seen her since our wedding day.’

‘No,’ Connie muttered. ‘Except at work. She’s not bothered about me any more. She onny went about wi’ me to annoy her nan.’

‘Did she?’

Connie fell silent and Jeannie glanced at her; she seemed to be chewing something over, and as they walked, her eyes skimmed the street as if she was expecting somebody.

‘Why would Rosie want to annoy Nan?’ Jeannie asked.

Connie shrugged. ‘Dunno.’

‘Is it your father who’s a fisherman?’ Jeannie said conversationally.

Connie gasped and stopped, pulling away from Jeannie’s arm. ‘Why ’you asking that?’

Jeannie was astonished by her response. ‘No reason,’ she said. ‘I just heard the name Turnby crop up. Billy Norman happened to say they’d been in the same crew on the last trip.’

Connie put her hand to her mouth, her expression scared as she glanced about her. ‘No,’ she muttered from beneath her fingers. ‘Not my da. My uncle. Des. He’s my da’s brother. He was on ’same trip as Billy.’

‘I’m so sorry. I just thought …’ Jeannie bit her lip. ‘Have you – was your father lost at sea? Like mine?’

Connie gaped at her; there was fear in her eyes. She shook her head. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘I’m not supposed to talk about him. I’d get a good hiding if they heard me.’

Jeannie too glanced about her. They? Who were
they
? There were a few people about, but not many; most were just strolling, some of the women wearing hats as if they’d been to church or chapel. That made her think of Nan and wonder if she ought to be turning back.

‘Maybe I ought to be going home,’ she told Connie. ‘Nan will be back from chapel soon, and I don’t want to get you into trouble.’

It was Connie’s turn to be contrite. ‘I can’t – I haven’t to mention his name, my ma says, and Uncle Des says ’same.’

‘I see,’ Jeannie murmured, although she didn’t. ‘He isn’t dead then? I’m glad about that, Connie. My father was lost at sea when I was six and I hardly remember him; not what he looked like or anything, although my ma always talked about him to me and Tom. Tom’s my brother,’ she added.

Connie nodded. ‘Yeh, I remember him at ’wedding.’ She seemed to consider and she turned and walked back with Jeannie. ‘You’re lucky to have a brother.’

Jeannie gave a small wry smile. Lucky again. Connie seemed to think that she was the only one who didn’t have any luck. ‘Don’t you have any brothers or sisters?’

There was a slight hesitation. ‘I might have,’ she muttered.

‘What do you mean?’

‘My da went off. He left home when I was ten. I haven’t seen him since. Well …’ She seemed uncertain. ‘I thought I saw him once, coming out of our house; onny Ma said it wasn’t. She gave me a good slapping cos I said I wanted to see him.’

‘I’m really sorry, Connie,’ Jeannie said. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘It’s all right,’ Connie said in a strangled kind of voice and blew her nose on a piece of rag. ‘It’s quite good to talk about it really, seeing as I can’t at home. Uncle Des and his wife and their two lads live with us. They moved in just after ’time I thought I saw my da. Des said it was to mek sure my da didn’t come back and bother us.’

Jeannie knitted her meandering thoughts together. ‘Was that about the time that Harry’s mother left? She went off with a foreigner apparently and took her youngest children with her.’

Connie turned to stare at her. ‘He weren’t a foreigner,’ she whispered. ‘It was my da. Harry’s ma and my da went off together.’

‘Oh! But – Nan definitely told me she’d gone off with a foreigner.’

Connie gave a choking sob. ‘He were from Brixham,’ she said. ‘And that’s where they ran off to.’

‘Brixham?’ Jeannie said.

‘Yeh,’ Connie said. ‘That’s where he came from. He was a trawler man and fetched up in Hull. There was a lot of controversy over trawling, so Uncle Des said, cos he came at ’same time. They both decided to stop here cos ’fishing was good. An’ then my da met my ma and they had me. I don’t know what happened after. I onny remember they were forever shouting at each other. I was ’onny bairn and I think Da would have liked a son. Ma allus blamed him an’ he said as it were her fault. I once heard him say that she was frigid. I didn’t know what it meant then but I allus remembered ’word.’

Jeannie nodded. So that was why Nan was so set against Connie’s family. And that’s so unfair, she thought; when it was nothing to do with Connie but only to do with the adults.

‘I’m sorry I asked, Connie,’ she said again. ‘I’d no idea. Does Rosie know? Or Harry?’

‘Yeh. I think Rosie’s Auntie Dot told her and she told Harry. That’s why Rosie made friends wi’ me.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Jeannie said. ‘Why would she do that?’

‘Because Nan never had a good word to say about Rosie’s ma, and she was allus mekking out that she’d gone off wi’ a foreigner and didn’t want Rosie but onny ’younger bairns. Then she made Rosie go and live with her Auntie Dot. She said that Rosie was flighty and needed a firm hand, but Rosie said that Nan onny wanted Harry cos one day he’d be a fisherman and’d be able to keep her. So when Rosie found out that it were my da that her ma had gone off wi’ and not a foreigner at all, I think she became my friend just to torment Nan; to keep reminding her of what had happened.’

She paused for a moment as if considering something; her eyes narrowed and she put her chin in the air. ‘Rosie knew that I liked Harry and she tried to push us together, just to rub salt into ’wound; Nan would have been right mad if she’d thought that me and Harry – if we’d …’ She pouted. ‘But we didn’t – at least he didn’t, cos like I said, who’d look at me? Not somebody like Harry, anyway.’

Connie turned her limpid gaze on Jeannie; her eyes were damp and soulful and she chewed on her lip. ‘Rosie was furious when Harry said he was going to wed a Scarborough lass, and after we’d met you at ’wedding she kept saying horrible things about you, trying to make me jealous and to hate you.’ Tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘But I don’t, Jeannie,’ she pleaded. ‘Honest to God I don’t.’

Jeannie was stunned. She didn’t blame Connie. She was a pawn in a game that Rosie was playing. But what? Why should Rosie take against someone she didn’t know?

‘Here’s Nan coming up ’road,’ Connie gasped. ‘I’d better go.’

‘No,’ Jeannie said. ‘Walk with me. If you will,’ she added. ‘I’ll choose for myself who my friends are, Connie.’ She smiled at her. ‘I don’t have to ask Nan.’

Connie blinked. ‘I wish I was as brave as you. I’m scared o’ my own shadow.’

Jeannie tucked her arm into Connie’s again. ‘Come on then,’ she said firmly. ‘Let’s brave the shadows together.’

It was as they were walking towards Nan that Jeannie felt a sharp pain in her lower back. She grimaced and clutched Connie’s arm. Then she felt another. Was this it? she thought. Is this how it happens?

‘I need to get home, Connie,’ she murmured. ‘I think I’m starting in labour.’

Connie stared at her. Her mouth opened and she breathed heavily. ‘What shall we do?’

‘Just walk slowly,’ Jeannie said. ‘Don’t let me rush.’

Connie held her arm steadily and then, to Jeannie’s astonishment, she signalled to Nan, who had almost reached the top of Walcott Street, that she should come to them. Nan hesitated, her back held ramrod straight, and then she hurried towards them.

‘What?’ She looked at Connie and then at Jeannie.

‘We have to get Jeannie home, Mrs Carr,’ Connie said nervously. ‘She thinks she’s starting wi’ babby.’

‘I don’t think there’s any hurry,’ Jeannie said tremulously. ‘But the pain is spreading. And I need the privy,’ she whispered.

Nan took her other arm and slowly they walked towards Walcott Street.

‘Are you all right, Jeannie?’ Connie asked softly when they reached the house.

Jeannie pressed her lips together. ‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘I think so.’

‘We can manage now,’ Nan said curtly and put a key in the rarely used front door. ‘Thank you,’ she added.

‘No. Wait, Connie,’ Jeannie said. ‘Help me to the privy. I don’t think I can make it on my own. I’d love a cup of tea, Nan.’ Her voice sounded weak, even to her.

Nan looked at them both but said nothing, and as Jeannie and Connie went through the house towards the scullery door she swung the kettle over the fire. When they came back, she had made the tea and put three cups on the table.

‘Shall I fetch Mrs Norman?’ Connie asked.

‘Drink your tea first,’ Nan commanded. ‘Jeannie, you’d better sit down.’

Jeannie swallowed. ‘I’m not sure if I can,’ she said. ‘I feel very strange.’

‘Help her upstairs,’ Nan told Connie, who hastily put her cup back on the table. ‘She might be better lying down.’ Her voice, though crisp, was shaky.

Connie put her hand on the small of Jeannie’s back as she went up the stairs behind her. ‘Stop a minute,’ she said halfway up. ‘Tek a rest. ’Stairs are steep, just like ours.’

‘Yes,’ Jeannie said breathlessly. ‘We didn’t have – stairs in my ma’s house.’

When they reached the bedroom, Jeannie perched on the edge of the bed whilst Connie knelt down to unbutton her boots.

‘Will you unfasten my skirt, Connie?’ Jeannie whispered. ‘And then fetch Mrs Norman. Tell her it’s urgent.’

‘Yeh! I’ll run.’ She exhaled, as if she’d been holding her breath. ‘It’ll onny take me five minutes. Had you better lie down like Nan said?’

Jeannie shook her head. ‘No, not yet. Don’t be long, will you, Connie?’

Connie sped down the stairs. Nan was sitting by the table with her hands clasped tightly together. ‘I’m going to fetch Mrs Norman,’ Connie told her. ‘Jeannie asked me to.’

‘You know where she lives?’ Nan asked. ‘Stricky Street,’ and at Connie’s nod she said, ‘Be quick.’

It did only take her five minutes to reach Strickland Street, and Mrs Norman was at home. Connie hurried back and the midwife came on more slowly. ‘There’ll be no hurry,’ she called after Connie’s retreating back. ‘First babbies tek their time.’

Connie knew nothing about babies, but her instincts seemed to tell her that Mrs Norman might be wrong.

She knocked briefly on the scullery door and went in. ‘She’s coming,’ she called upstairs as Nan was no longer in the kitchen. She heard Jeannie’s faint voice but couldn’t catch what she was saying. She stayed at the bottom of the stairs until Mrs Norman knocked and came in, and then she moved aside to let her pass.

‘These stairs’ll be ’death o’ me,’ the midwife puffed. ‘Why they have to build ’em so steep I don’t know. Now then, Nan,’ Connie heard her say. ‘Why don’t you go down an’ mek us all a nice cuppa tea, an’ then put ’kettle on again for some hot water. Have you got plenty o’ clean towels an’ some old sheets?’

When Nan came downstairs she sat down abruptly. Connie saw that she was trembling. ‘Is there owt I can do, Mrs Carr?’ she asked.

‘No. Yes. Fill ’kettle again. Mrs Norman wants a cup o’ tea, but don’t mek it till she comes down and onny mek a small pot. We’re about drowning in tea – an’ price of it …’ Her voice trailed away.

‘I’m sure Jeannie will be all right,’ Connie ventured in a small voice, guessing that the old lady was anxious.

‘How do you know?’ Nan snapped. ‘You know nowt about it.’

Oddly Connie wasn’t upset by her manner; rather she was pleased that Mrs Carr was actually talking to her. Generally she ignored her as if she were invisible.

‘I lost two babbies at birth,’ Nan muttered. ‘You never forget it. It’s a dangerous business is birthing, ’specially for us that’s poor.’ She glanced at Connie as they heard Mrs Norman’s footsteps on the stairs. ‘You can mek ’tea now. I don’t want a cup,’ she said, ‘but Jeannie might.’

Mrs Norman breezed in. ‘It’s not going to be long,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Her waters have broken already and ’babby’s well on its way. Oh, thanks, love,’ she said to Connie as she poured a weak cup of tea. She looked into the cup. ‘Did you put any leaves in ’pot? I’ll not be able to tell my fortune wi’ this.’