A Safe Harbour (39 page)

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Authors: Benita Brown

Tags: #Technology & Engineering, #Sagas, #Fisheries & Aquaculture, #Fiction

BOOK: A Safe Harbour
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‘Well, I don’t know where that came from,’ she said. She peered into the cup again. ‘No, no mistake, there’s a baby there. Unless I’m losing the sight.’
 
A moment later she looked up and smiled. ‘There’s a wedding there, too. Look!’
 
Nan leaned forward and looked eagerly but Kate held back. Was Alice humouring them?
 
‘I got things in the wrong order, didn’t I, Kate, lass? I saw the baby before I saw the wedding. And that wouldn’t be doing for a good lass like you, would it?’
 
Kate was aware of her mother’s discomfort but Alice was happy again. Kate tried to hide her doubts. I’m sure this is all nonsense, she thought, but Mrs Willis seems to be sure of her own powers and I’m beginning to think my mother believes in them, too.
 
‘That’s it. A wedding and a baby.’ Alice stared into the cup again and shook her head. She looked puzzled. ‘But I can’t say when this is going to happen. All I can say is that there’s happiness ahead for you, Kate.’
 
Alice was just about to put the cup down when she stopped, stared into it again, and drew it back into the protective circle of both hands.
 
Oh, no, Kate thought. I wish she’d stop this. Now what kind of nonsense will she ‘see’ in the leaves? For Kate still thought this was nonsense. Even though she had been shocked just now by Alice’s prediction of a baby, she believed that, tired as the poor woman was, she had simply produced the sort of prophecy that many young women would want to hear. A wedding and a baby. It had simply been a mistake to get them the wrong way round. But Alice was probably enjoying herself. She hadn’t had any sort of relaxation for weeks now. No wonder she didn’t want to stop.
 
‘Does the letter R mean anything to you?’ Alice asked, fixing Kate with a penetrating look. Kate felt the heat rise and sat back a little, so that her face was in shadow. Alice didn’t notice; by now she was carried away with her performance again. She pointed into the cup. ‘Can you see it? Look, R, it’s plain to see.’
 
Kate lowered her head before leaning forward to stare into the cup. ‘Yes, I think I can,’ she said slowly as if she was concentrating. She could see no such thing but had decided to humour Alice in the hopes that this would soon be over with some cheerful prophecy about meeting a nice young man whose name began with that letter. But the tension began to knot inside her once again. Alice couldn’t possibly mean Richard Adamson, could she?
 
‘Turmoil,’ Alice declared in a low sepulchral voice. The sort of voice that Kate used to adopt to frighten her playmates silly telling them ghost stories in the cave.
 
Kate heard her mother clear her throat and whisper, ‘Turmoil, Alice?’
 
‘Yes. Connected with the letter R.’
 
‘Can you tell us what the turmoil is?’ Nan asked.
 
‘I can’t.’ Alice shook her head. ‘I can’t.’
 
She paused, and Kate took advantage of the moment to say, ‘Well, thank you for the warning. I’ll take care to avoid people whose name begins with R.’
 
‘Divven’t mock me, Kate.’ Alice sounded sharp. ‘There’s more.’
 
Kate’s heart sank. ‘More turmoil?’
 
‘This is different. It’s a warning. There’s a warning here for a W.’
 
Kate heard a soft cry of dismay. Her mother would naturally think Alice meant William. Kate felt her temper rising and wondered why it had taken so long. Perhaps she’d been too exhausted after her illness and too grateful for the home that was being offered. That gave her pause. She needed this home – this job. She mustn’t alienate Alice Willis. Not now.
 
‘Can you see the W?’ Alice asked. ‘Look in the cup.’
 
Kate leaned forward again. She wanted to bring this to an end. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’
 
‘Are you sure?’
 
‘I’m sure. Sorry.’
 
Perhaps Alice detected the sharp edge to her words. She was silent for a moment and then she sat back and looked into the cup again. ‘But as well as sorrow, I see joy,’ she said, repeating some of the words she had uttered before. Her voice took on a cheerful tone as she said, ‘You will have more than one child and find great success in life.’
 
Kate recognized this as the sort of thing Alice would say at the end of most of her readings. Her voice was already sounding almost normal. But then she added, ‘But not without a struggle. And that’s all I can see.’ She put the cup down on the chest that served as a table and smiled. ‘Now why don’t I make us a fresh pot of tea?’
 
Later that night, as Kate’s feet sought the stone hot-water bottle which she’d wrapped in a clean towel, she shivered, and not just with the cold. Alice had told her to bank the fire down but keep it going through the night and Kate was grateful for that. She’d put up the cinder guard before slipping into bed, accepting a slight loss of heat in the interests of safety.
 
She had come upstairs soon after tea because Alice had warned her that they would have an early start. In truth she was grateful; after all, she had been ill, and Dr Phillips had insisted on rest. Now she lay back amongst the pillows and watched the patterns the flames made on the ceiling. And shivered again. She thought she understood why the women of the village took Alice’s readings so seriously. Their daily lives had so little comfort, so little cheer, that if for a moment they could dream that something good might happen, they would enjoy that moment to the full.
 
What was she to make of Alice’s predictions? She was going to have a baby – that was true. But Alice also thought she was going to get married. And who would marry her after she had given birth to a fatherless child? A bastard? She made herself think the word, for that’s what the poor bairn would be in this God-fearing and yet unforgiving community.
 
And what about the R and the W that Alice was supposed to have seen in the tea leaves? Well, it wasn’t so strange when you thought about it. Alice knew very well that Kate had been staying at Richard Adamson’s house, and she knew what the villagers thought about him.
 
As for the W, Alice knew that Kate’s elder brother bore that initial. But why on earth should she have predicted trouble for William who was so sensible and so wise? If she’d claimed to have seen the letter T it would have made more sense. Thomas had already had a brush with the law and, knowing how hot-headed he was, anyone could have predicted trouble for him – and they wouldn’t have needed a teacup. Kate had already sensed that the so-called ‘riot’ was not the end of the matter. But whatever the young fishermen had planned she was as certain as she could be that William would not be involved. Never William. No, poor Alice Willis, with everything she was living through, had got the Lawson brothers mixed up, that was all. And although that thought only brought small comfort Kate found herself giving in to her exhaustion.
 
I wish I’d never agreed to let Alice read the tea leaves, she thought drowsily. I believe the future should keep its secrets. That was almost her last thought before she went to sleep. Almost. For just as she felt herself drifting downwards into that warm secure place where you could escape from care, she felt a slight sensation in her lower body.
 
A fluttering, a gentle beating like that of small birds’ wings. The movement brought with it an anguish comprising equal parts of sorrow and joy. Great joy. Tears came to her eyes. The baby in her womb had quickened, and, as soon as Kate realized that, she was overwhelmed by a surge of love. Such love as she had never known before.
 
Chapter Seventeen
 
‘People will begin to talk about us, Betsy.’
 
‘What do you mean?’
 
‘Calling on me so early in the morning again. And alone. A beautiful young girl like you and a single man.’
 
Howard Munro stood on his doorstep and looked down at the child. She was wearing her new coat, which really was quite smart when he looked at it properly, but she still insisted on spoiling the effect by bundling herself up in her old shawl. To protect the coat from the rain, probably, he thought. For it was raining again; a steady driving rain that was keeping the cats indoors, all tumbled together on the hearthrug.
 
Betsy was staring at him blankly.
 
‘I was joking,’ he said.
 
‘How was that a joke?’
 
Howard sighed. Suddenly losing patience and hating himself for it, he said, ‘You’re right. It wasn’t a joke. It was a silly thing to say. Now what do you want?’
 
Startled by his abrupt change of tone, Betsy’s eyes opened wide and she backed away like a nervous cat.
 
She believes I’m angry with her, Howard thought. He felt guilty. ‘Have you a message for me?’ he asked. ‘From Kate, perhaps?’
 
The girl smiled. ‘That’s right, from Kate. Shall I come in and feed the cats? I’ve brought some fish heads. Sometimes they throw them away.’
 
She produced a newspaper parcel from her pocket – the pocket of her smart new coat – and Howard flinched.
 
‘No, Betsy, give the fish heads to me. I’ll feed the cats. Just tell me what the message is.’
 
‘Kate can’t come.’
 
‘When – when can’t Kate come?’
 
‘Again.’
 
As patiently as he could he said, ‘Can you remember exactly what Kate told you to say?’
 
‘She said now that she’s going to work in the shop she won’t be able to get here until it’s dark. So she won’t be able to pose for the picture. She says she’s sorry.’
 
‘Tell Kate it’s all right.’
 
The girl frowned. ‘But what about the picture?’
 
‘I’ve done enough work – I can finish it.’
 
Howard didn’t know how he was going to explain it to Betsy but she surprised him by saying, ‘All them drawings – sketches.’
 
‘That’s right. Tell her I’ll call into the shop and see her when I buy my groceries.’
 
‘Give me a list. I’ll deliver them.’
 
‘You’re going to deliver groceries, Betsy?’
 
‘Just bits and pieces. Mrs Willis says I can help Kate – sweep the floor and that.’
 
‘Well, I think that’s marvellous. And I will give you a list. But you needn’t deliver them. I’ll come and collect them.’
 
‘I’ll come in while you write the list. I’ll feed the cats.’
 
Howard accepted defeat and stood aside, but he was careful to leave the door wide open. Despite the fact that he admired and respected the hardworking fisherfolk, he was aware of how narrow-minded some of them were. How ready to think ill of people. He did not want it reported that Betsy was visiting his cottage alone. He was by no means sure that even her youth and her difference would protect her from the malicious tongues of the more unpleasant among them. And besides, his own reputation as a promising artist of wholesome and uplifting paintings was already established and he did not want even a hint of scandal to attach itself to him.
 
 
Kate, wearing one of Alice’s pinafores, looked around the stockroom. The boxes of soap, the casks of oil, the jugs and bowls, brushes, candles, chamber pots, coal scuttles and all the rest of the hardware were together at one end of the room, at least. All they needed was tidying. She thought she would enjoy the task. She had just cleared one shelf completely, putting the candles that had been there on an upturned box. She found a ball of twine and some scissors and began to cut the twine into lengths. She realized that Alice had come into the stockroom, and turned to see her looking worried.
 
‘What is it?’ Kate asked. ‘Is Charlie . . .’
 
‘He’s sleeping. No, it’s you I’m thinking about. You’re doing things I didn’t ask you to do.’
 
‘I don’t mind. In fact I enjoy it. And, at the moment, nobody seems to be venturing out in the rain.’
 
‘As soon as it stops they’ll all arrive at once like a flock of hungry gannets, and they’ll all want serving at the same time.’ Alice smiled. ‘You’ll be working long hours, you know, Kate. The folk round here have got used to me staying open late.’
 
‘It’ll be better than being outdoors in all weathers.’
 
‘Like your ma, you mean?’
 
‘Yes.’ Kate sighed.
 
‘Divven’t fret. Nan’s a tough one. And getting out and about will be good for her. What with looking out for your great-grandma, and all.’
 
‘Oh, no! When my mother told me she’d taken over my fish round I never thought about that.’
 
‘Divven’t fret. She’s got good neighbours. One or two of the wives round the doors have agreed to pop in. Everyone likes your ma, you know. They think she has a lot to put up with.’
 
And I’ve made her burden heavier, Kate thought. If a letter doesn’t come from Aunt Winifred soon I shall have to think of somewhere else to go before my condition becomes obvious and my father makes Ma pay for my mistake.
 
‘As there’s no one about,’ Alice said, ‘shall I put the kettle on?’
 
‘But we’ve just had breakfast.’
 

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