A Safe Harbour (40 page)
Authors: Benita Brown
Tags: #Technology & Engineering, #Sagas, #Fisheries & Aquaculture, #Fiction
Kate had come down to find a bowl of porridge and a pot of tea set out in the stockroom. The chest they used for a table now sported a tablecloth. Alice liked to sit with her when she could and, as she’d told her, this way they could listen out for customers.
‘Breakfast was an hour and a half ago,’ Alice said, ‘and I like to sit and rest a bit while Charlie’s sleeping.’
‘Of course,’ Kate said. ‘I’d love a cup of tea.’
The tray Alice brought back didn’t just contain the tea things; there was a plate of fancy biscuits, too.
‘I’ll get fat, Mrs Willis,’ Kate said as she bit into her second one.
‘You’ll work it off. And call me Alice.’
‘Mrs Willis – I mean, Alice – I’m sorry about Betsy.’
Kate had opened the shop door first thing in order to sweep the pavement clear of the ever-present sand. As the door opened, the bell jangled, and a huddled form almost fell into the shop. Betsy had been crouched in the doorway, goodness knows how long for, and she must have fallen asleep.
‘No need to apologize,’ Alice Willis said. ‘I’ve noticed that if a body can find the right way of talking to the lass, she can make sense of things. If she wants to help you, run errands, do a bit cleaning, make a few deliveries, then she’s welcome. I’ll give her a penny or two, and her ma will be glad to have her out of the way.’
Charlie started coughing and the older woman finished her tea quickly, but Kate noticed that already the strained look on Alice’s face was easing. The knowledge brought a further stab of guilt. What will she do when I leave, as leave I must? Kate wondered. May the Lord forgive me but it would be better if poor Charlie dies before that happens. She resolved to do as much as she could to help while she could.
The shop door opened and Kate went through to serve two women who complained about the weather and confided various worries as they bought the few things they needed to keep them going. Kate found that she enjoyed serving in the shop. The rows of packets and tins and bottles reminded her of the days when Jane and she used to play shops when they were children.
An upturned box at the mouth of ‘their’ cave and a collection of rocks, shells and bits of seaweed served as the counter and the goods for sale. Thomas and Jos were persuaded to be the customers, paying with pebbles for imaginary groceries and confectionery. As they grew older, Jos would tease the girls by slipping other items on to the ‘counter’. Smooth bits of glass washed in by the tide were all right. Some of them were quite beautiful, and to Kate and Jane they became ‘ornaments’.
But then Jos took to plonking down smelly fish heads and long-dead crabs. Sometimes the crabs would be alive and they would scuttle frantically about, scaring Jane witless. One day he brought an old shoe that he’d found in a rock pool. Despite the salt stains it was obvious that it had once been a smart shoe, an expensive shoe – a gentleman’s shoe, Jane, the shoemaker’s daughter, had proclaimed.
‘Some passenger on the way to Norway or Germany must have dropped it over the side,’ she said.
‘But why would they do that?’ Thomas asked.
Jane shot him an irritated glance and picked the shoe up to look at it more closely. And then she screamed and dropped it again. Kate would never forget that scream.
‘There’s something inside!’ Jane wailed.
And indeed there had been. Inside the shoe were the remains of a foot. They had never played shops again.
Kate was still thinking about that day when the bell jangled and someone came in, pausing in the entrance to shake her umbrella before closing the door and making the bell jangle again.
‘Jane!’ Kate said. ‘I was just thinking about you.’ She was so pleased to see her old friend that, at first, she didn’t notice that Jane’s greeting was subdued. ‘Did you know I was working here?’
‘Yes, my mother has kept me informed. I’m sorry you were ill.’
‘It was just a cold.’
‘And yet you stayed at the Adamson house for nearly four weeks.’
‘Dr Phillips was overcautious, I think.’
‘Dr Phillips?’
‘He has a practice in North Shields. He’s a friend of Mr Adamson.’
‘So old Dr Fenwick wasn’t good enough for you?’
‘Dr Fenwick would have suited me fine. I had no choice in the matter. In fact I didn’t even know that they’d called a doctor until the next morning. For goodness’ sake, Jane, why are you quizzing me like this? If your mother told you what happened—’
‘It’s all round the village. Mr Adamson found you in the cave. They say you’d fallen asleep and the tide was coming in. He waded in and saved your life.’
‘Well, yes, but I suppose it was really his dog who found me. He takes him out every night.’
‘But why did he take you home to his house? I mean, he could have taken you to the cottage.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Haven’t you asked him?’
‘I haven’t seen him since that night.’
‘Do you mean you were in his house all that time and you never saw him?’
‘That’s what I said.’ Kate tried to control her rising irritation. Why was Jane – her friend – behaving like this? ‘In fact I didn’t see Mrs Adamson either, even though I was her guest. I saw no one but the doctor – oh, and Joan Donkin. She works there, you know. Mrs Adamson told her to look after me.’
‘Joan Donkin? Oh, poor you!’ For the first time since she had entered the shop Jane sounded sympathetic. She smiled and her whole demeanour softened. She seemed to make an effort to banish her disapproving crosspatch manner. ‘Well, I’m pleased to see that you look quite well now.’ She stood back so that the light from the window in the door fell across Kate’s face. ‘In fact you look more than well. You look positively blooming. There’s something about you . . . I don’t know . . .’
‘It’s probably because of the rest I had,’ Kate said swiftly. ‘Lying around like Lady Muck, as Joan called me.’
That made Jane laugh. ‘Do you like working here?’
Kate was surprised herself by answering promptly, ‘Yes, I do.’
‘I don’t care much for the pinafore you’re wearing. It’s far too big.’
‘As a matter of fact it’s not long enough – but I agree, it’s much too wide.’
‘Mm. Why don’t you pull the ties tighter?’
‘I’ve got them as tight as they’ll go. The whole waistband needs adjusting. It’s a needle and thread job and you know how much I hate sewing. Besides, it belongs to Mrs Willis and I’d only have to alter it again when I leave.’
‘Leave? You’ve only just started working here.’
‘I know, but . . . I mean, the job is temporary. I’m just helping out until – I mean, it’s just while Mr Willis is so ill.’
And that was the truth, Kate thought. She couldn’t tell Jane the real reason why she wouldn’t be staying either in the shop or in the village. And that was wrong. Best friends ought to be able to confide in each other, oughtn’t they? But her mother had begged her to tell no one, and Kate would never break a promise made to her mother.
Just then the door opened and two small boys came in with a written request for half a pound of broken biscuits. Their faces were wet and shining, their clothes gave off a damp and not too clean smell, and the note was sodden and barely legible, but the boys were smiling. Kate scooped the broken biscuits from the tin behind the counter, put them into a paper bag and weighed them. The older of the two lads handed over the money and stuffed the bag of biscuits inside his jacket, and they both said, ‘Thank you, miss,’ before leaving the shop.
‘You gave them good measure,’ Jane said.
‘Alice is soft on the children. She won’t mind.’
Jane looked round at the jumbled shelves. ‘It’s a bit untidy, isn’t it?’
‘I intend to sort things out. I enjoy doing that kind of thing, I don’t know why. It’s good for the soul.’
‘Perhaps because we can’t bring order to our lives so easily,’ Jane said. Her smile had faded and Kate was dismayed to see that there were tears in her eyes.
‘Jane . . . what is it? What’s the matter?’
‘It’s William.’
Kate was immediately anxious. Was this going to prove to be something to do with Alice’s warning?
‘I can’t get him to name a date for our wedding.’
‘Oh, is that all?’
Almost before she had finished speaking the words Kate wished she could recall them. Jane was furious.
‘So you think it’s a trivial matter, do you?’
‘No, of course not. But I thought it might be something serious.’
Oh, no. That also had been the wrong thing to say. How could she explain to Jane that she had thought it might be a matter of life and death and not merely the matter of setting a date for their wedding. Kate suppressed a groan when she realized that even the way she was thinking would upset her friend.
‘It is to me,’ Jane said icily. ‘My wedding is a very serious matter to me even if it isn’t to the man who is supposed to love me.’
‘I’m sure he loves you, Jane. I know he does.’
‘He loves his mother more.’
Kate was shocked. ‘Of course he loves his mother. He’s a good son and he always will. But he loves you in a different way. It’s not a matter of degree.’
‘If he loved me he wouldn’t be risking losing a good job with Mr Rennison.’
‘Mr Rennison the Newcastle fishmonger?’
‘Yes. He needs a general manager. He interviewed William last week. Mr Rennison explained what the job entailed and said the job was William’s if he wanted it. He gave him time to make up his mind. And William still hasn’t decided.’
‘A week isn’t a long time for such a big decision,’ Kate said.
‘It is when the matter is so important to m—to both of us.’
‘You want William to leave the fishing?’
‘You know I do. And you must know that the way things are with Adamson’s trawlers taking away the local men’s livings it would be for the best. It’s such a respectable job, too, and we could get married and live above the shop.’
‘The fish shop?’
Jane was losing her patience. ‘You’re being deliberately stupid. I mean my shop – my dressmaking business. I’m almost ready to take over.’
‘Of course. I’m sorry. And you believe William is delaying things because he feels he ought to look after our mother, do you?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘You’re probably right. William takes his responsibilities as the elder son seriously.’
‘But why can’t Thomas look after your mother? Why shouldn’t he be responsible?’
‘I agree. He should be. But you see it’s not just that William feels responsible for our ma, it’s our father, too.’
‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘You know what’s wrong with him. He drinks too much. He’s becoming a danger to himself and to others.’
‘So William thinks he has to stay here – give up his chance of happiness?’
Kate looked at her old friend. The tears had started flowing. She had never seen Jane looking so distressed. She wished she could avoid what she was going to say next but it had to be said.
‘You love William, don’t you, Jane?’
‘How can you ask that? I think I’ve always loved William, ever since we were children.’
‘Well, have you ever considered that you could be together – be happy – if you gave up the idea of having your shop in town and lived here in the village?’
Jane stared at her aghast. ‘Give up my dream? My dream of owning my own dressmaking business?’
‘Which dream is more important to you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Your dream of married happiness or your dream of a successful business?’
Jane’s eyes widened. She looked so distressed that Kate felt sorry for her. She hurried on, ‘You could easily live here—’
‘As a fisherman’s wife? In that cottage with your mother and your father and your brother and Sarah?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with that. I grew up in that cottage and so did William, the man you’re supposed to love.’ Jane’s face drained of colour and Kate felt guilty. ‘But there would be no need for you to live there. There are cottages to rent – folk are leaving the village. William could be near his family and you could—’
‘I could do what? Bait the lines? Go down to the beach and help land the fish? Sort it? Gut it and then sell it from door to door like—’ Jane stopped and covered her mouth with her hand.
Other books
Tara's Gold by Lisa Harris
Date Night (Wish Come True Book 1) by R.C. Matthews
Augustus by Allan Massie
The Hooded Hawk Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon
La Tentación de Elminster by Ed Greenwood
The Hunter (Orion the Hunter) by J. D. Chase
The Auric Insignia by Perry Horste
Storm Tide by Kari Jones
Pretty When She Cries by Sarah Kate
Room Beneath the Stairs by Wilde, Jennifer;