The Harbour Girl (39 page)

Auntie Dot looked at her over the top of her cup. ‘Yes, I dare say he would. He looks ’positive type of man. Sam’ll like him, I’d say, and especially if Mike recommends him.’

‘I didn’t know Mike knew him.’ Jeannie shook her head. ‘It’s such a coincidence, isn’t it?’

‘Aye, it is.’ Dot raised her brows. ‘Funny old life, isn’t it?’

Ethan couldn’t stay for the midday meal. There was a crewman waiting on the smack and he told Rosie they wanted to catch the afternoon tide to get back to Scarborough. Mike also declined, as he’d been invited to his son’s house for Sunday dinner. But Ethan came back into the sitting room to say goodbye.

‘Is there any message to carry home?’ he asked Jeannie. ‘To – your ma?’

Jeannie’s eyes prickled. ‘Yes, please, and to Tom and Sarah. Tell Ma – tell them – that I miss them all.’

‘And that you’re well and happy?’ His voice dropped. ‘Are you happy, Jeannie?’

Jeannie pressed her lips together. What should she say? ‘I’ve been unhappy,’ she whispered, conscious of other people in the room, Mike chatting to Dot, Rosie gazing into the fire. ‘I’ve been ill. I’ve just lost a bairn – but I’m all right now,’ she added quickly, seeing his face tense. ‘The people round here are very supportive. They help one another. Tell Ma everything’s fine.’

‘Goodbye, then.’ He took her hand and she felt the warmth, the strength, the comfort of it.

‘Maybe we’ll bump into each other again,’ she murmured. ‘If things go to plan?’

‘Mebbe,’ he said, his expression set. ‘Mebbe not.’

She released her hand from his. ‘No, perhaps not.’

Ethan strode with his long stride alongside Mike down the Boulevard and towards Hessle Road. ‘Nice area,’ he commented. ‘Is this where folk come when they’ve done well?’

‘Aye,’ Mike said. ‘When they’ve made their pile. Greenwood’s done well. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. Did you tek to him? It’s important if we’re to work together.’

‘Well, the way I see it, he’ll look after the money side, Len – who you’ll meet when we get to the harbour – and I will organize a crew and the fishing, and you’ll look after everything in between. I gather you won’t want to come out on a trip?’

‘No, I’ve done wi’ all that,’ Mike said. ‘I’ve had enough of stormy voyages, being cold and wet through. It’s a young man’s game and I like my own bed of a night.’

Ethan nodded. ‘My father said the same, although I think he might come on the first trip. Greenwood will do everything right, won’t he?’ he asked anxiously. ‘Insurance and so on?’

‘Oh aye, you can count on it,’ Mike said. ‘He’s very canny and won’t want to risk his money. He’ll want to tek a look at ’ship, too, even though he knows little about sailing in ’em.’

They crossed the Hessle Road and continued on towards St Andrew’s Dock.

‘How long do you think before he’ll make up his mind?’

‘Oh I reckon he’s already made it up,’ Mike said cheerfully. ‘Tomorrow mornin’ he’ll be talking to his lawyer, then in ’afternoon to his bank. I think within a fortnight we’ll strike a deal and be able to tell ’shipwright to start mekkin’ modifications.’

Ethan eased out a breath and grinned. ‘I can’t wait to get home to tell my da. He’ll be pleased as punch.’

‘Will you mek your base here? It’d mek sense.’

‘Yes, I’ll have to. I’ll look for lodgings once everything’s agreed.’

‘You can stop wi’ me if you’ve a mind to. I’ve plenty o’ room in my house. There’s onny me, so you can come and go as you want. Just till you’re established, you know. No commitment.’

‘That would be grand. Thanks.’ Ethan nodded. He liked Mike and thought they’d get on well together. ‘I’ll probably be bringing my brother Stephen, if Da agrees; would that be all right?’

‘Fine. Like I say I’ve plenty of room. You’d need to do your own cookin’ when you’re ashore, though. I’m no great shakes at that.’ Mike grinned. ‘I get meat ’n’ tatie pies brought in from time to time, from womenfolk, you know, who want to get on ’best side of me.’ His grin became wider. ‘I expect there’ll be even more when you move in and they find you’re single! Mebbe you’ll have to put it about that you’ve got a lass waitin’ in Scarborough.’

Ethan laughed, rather cynically Mike thought. ‘Mebbe I will, except that I haven’t. Not any more.’

It was dark and wet when Ethan and Len sailed into Scarborough harbour and headed towards the West Pier. Len was inclined to be taciturn, and although Ethan had wanted him in on the meeting with Greenwood he’d declined, telling Ethan he trusted him to do what was best as he’d no head for figures.

The sea had had a rolling heavy swell; they’d heard the odd crack of thunder and a strong wind had whistled through the canvas and the rigging, but Ethan knew his ship and Len had no fear of what he called a pocket of wind and they came into harbour without difficulty. They secured the smack and climbed the iron steps on to the quay side. A figure detached itself from a small group of men and came towards them.

‘Now then, lad,’ Josh said. ‘Everything all right?’

‘Yes. What’s going on?’ Ethan looked towards the gathering; there was something about their stance, the way they shuffled their feet, the manner in which they rubbed their noses and pulled their collars up around their ears as if they had been standing in the cold too long, that alerted him that something was not quite right.

His father looked out beyond the harbour. ‘The
Sweet Flower
is late. She should have been in two or three hours ago. What’s it like out there?’

‘Calm enough,’ Ethan said. ‘But there’s a heavy undertow. Who’s on it?’

‘Clarkson brothers and two others. They know what they’re doing.’

‘She’s a refitted smack,’ Len put in. ‘They’ve only got ten horsepower. Mebbe it’s broken down and they’re having to sail back.’

‘That’s what I said,’ Josh agreed. ‘Or mebbe they’ve gone too far; or mebbe they’ve found a good shoal.’ He pulled his woollen hat over his ears. ‘Who knows?’

‘We’ll know the worst by the morning,’ Ethan said. ‘Let’s hope there’s good news before then.’

Whenever a ship was missing or late, it brought back a small stab of fear as he recalled the loss of his brother all those years ago. But it didn’t deter him from depending on the sea for his livelihood. Rather, it made him more careful, more aware of what could happen out on the watery wastes. His feeling was that if he were to die young, it would be the sea that took him and not any accident or illness on land.

Len left them and joined the waiting group of men.

‘How did you get on?’ Josh asked Ethan. ‘Are we on?’

‘I think so. It’s looking good. I met Greenwood, who’ll be putting up the bulk of the money. He seems very keen and Mike Gardiner seems to think we’ll know for sure in a couple of weeks.’

‘Good,’ his father said. ‘It’s just what we need. We can’t go on as we are or we’ll be bankrupt like so many others.’

‘Will you want to come on the first trip?’ Ethan asked. ‘And what about Stephen?’

‘Not Stephen,’ Josh said emphatically. ‘He’s too young, even though he’s keen.’ He drew back his shoulders and put his head up. ‘But yes, I’ll come. I’d like to try my hand at trawling even though I said I was against it. But I seem to be in the minority and I’ve decided that I’m not ready for retirement. I’m not that old and I’ve no wife at home waiting for me.’

Ethan glanced at his father; was there a tinge of regret in his voice? ‘What about Stephen? Will he go to Susan?’

There was a slight hesitation before Josh said, ‘Yes, course he will. She’s practically brought him up, hasn’t she? I want him to go to school in any case.’

Ethan murmured agreement. ‘I saw Jeannie when I was in Hull,’ he said.

‘Ah! How was she? Mary will be glad to know.’

Ethan hunched into his coat and said, ‘She looked ill, if I’m honest. She has a young bairn – a son – and she told me she’s just lost a child. I don’t know if her mother knows or if I should tell her.’

‘Tell her you’ve seen her,’ Josh advised, ‘but don’t say she looks ill or Mary will worry. If Jeannie’s just lost a bairn she’s bound to be out of sorts, but she’ll soon pick up. She’s a strong healthy lass.’

I don’t think she is, Ethan thought as they strode the last few yards towards home. I don’t think she’s strong at all; she’s lost weight, she’s thin and the colour’s gone from her cheeks and I hate to see her looking so sad and unhappy. Something’s wrong!

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

THE WORD THAT a Scarborough smack was missing filtered through to Hull. Jeannie heard it as she waited in line at the greengrocer’s two days after she had seen Ethan. She felt sick and faint and almost staggered.

‘You all right, missis?’ A woman next to her took hold of her arm. ‘Shall I tek ’babby?’

Jeannie clung tightly to Jack. ‘I’m – thank you, I’m all right. I just heard …’ She felt as if she could hardly breathe. ‘I just heard somebody say there was a Scarborough smack missing.’

The woman’s eyes creased sympathetically. ‘Know somebody on it, do you? There’s allus sorrow for somebody.’

‘Do you know the name? I’m from Scarborough, you see. I might know them.’

‘You’re Harry Carr’s wife, aren’t you?’ Enlightenment lit the woman’s expression. ‘My husband was a shipmate of his da years ago. He didn’t go on that last trip, thank God.’

‘But do you know the name of the Scarborough smack?’ Jeannie desperately tried to get the woman back on track. ‘Where were they sailing?’

‘Somewhere near Shetland, I heard,’ the woman said. ‘They’ve been missing all weekend.’

Relief flooded through Jeannie. She wanted to weep. To cry as she had done when she returned home on Sunday afternoon after finishing her dinner of roast beef, mashed potatoes, carrots and turnip and thick onion gravy which, hungry though she was, she had to force down, so edgy and overwrought was she after seeing Ethan again.

Jack had been asleep in her arms, and although Rosie had walked part of the way back with her they had spoken little, both lost in their own thoughts. The fire had gone out in her room and it was very cold; Jeannie had put Jack into bed and then taken off her boots, slipped out of her skirt and shawl and climbed in beside him and wept and wept.

How, she sobbed, how could I have not seen how kind and loving he would have been? How could I have been so stupid as to have been taken in by Harry’s show of charm and superficial words of love which meant nothing, as he’s admitted?

Her sobs racked her body but they didn’t wake Jack, who, tired out by the attentions of Dot and Rosie and a full stomach of beef gravy and mash, slept on oblivious of her anguish. Eventually she fell asleep to a restless night of dreams, waking early the next morning feeling washed out and exhausted.

Now, after hearing the dreadful news of the missing Scarborough smack and then nearly being overwhelmed by the relief that it wasn’t Ethan’s, she left the shop and walked along the road, intent on taking her small purchases back to her room, after which she would take Jack out for a walk. The weather was cold and dreary but she would walk simply to pass the time and shorten the day, which stretched as empty and lonely as all the others.

She thought that Harry might be home soon, but felt so apathetic towards him, knowing she could rely on him for nothing, that she hardly dared let him enter her thoughts in case her anger swamped her. Her main aim was to get through each day with enough left from her dwindling money to buy food for Jack and coal to heat the room. She herself ate little, taking only a few mouthfuls of soup. Her milk was dwindling, and she put Jack to her breast purely for comfort and not nourishment.

‘Jeannie! Jeannie!’

She turned slowly. Dot Greenwood was on the other side of the road, waving frantically.

Jeannie crossed over, her legs feeling heavy, as if they didn’t belong to her. ‘Hello,’ she murmured, and Dot looked at her questioningly.

‘Are you all right? You don’t look well.’

‘I’ve had rather a shock.’ Her voice was low, barely a whisper. ‘I heard a Scarborough smack had gone missing over the weekend, and’ – she swallowed – ‘I wondered if anyone I knew was on it.’

‘Ah!’ Dot’s manner was perceptive. ‘And was there?’

Jeannie shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I see. Poor souls,’ Dot said. ‘And you thought it might be that young fellow’s ship?’

‘Just at first I did,’ Jeannie admitted. ‘But it wasn’t, because he left here on Sunday and the missing ship had been up to Shetland.’

‘A blessing for you but sorrow for somebody,’ Dot said softly. ‘Listen, Jeannie. I was just coming to see you. I’ve had an idea. I had to talk to Sam first but I knew he wouldn’t mind. He’s not at home much anyway. Will you come back home wi’ me for a bit o’ dinner?’

Jeannie gazed at her. More food! She licked her lips; she could save the soup she had made for another day. And what was Dot’s idea? She nodded. ‘Yes, thank you. If you’re sure.’

‘I wouldn’t have asked you if I hadn’t wanted you to come, would I? There’ll just be us – Rosie’s at work and Sam’s gone to see ’bank manager and won’t be in till later. Shall I tek Jack for a minute?’ Dot lifted Jack from her without waiting for a reply. ‘You’re a fat lump, aren’t you?’ she told the child. ‘I’ll not be carrying you far. I know somebody who’s got a perambulator. They’ve no use for it now. I’m going to ask if they’ll sell it.’