Rosa's Island (2 page)

Mrs Jennings looked down at the swollen waterlogged body of her daugher, lying in a coggy boat and respectfully covered in a white sheet. ‘I've been expecting it for many a long year,' she said huskily. ‘Poor lass is at peace now.'

The boatman nodded. ‘Aye. Well, 'sea took her, but 'river fetched her back like it allus does. We'll bring her home for thee.'

‘
SUNK ISLAND ISN'T
really an island, you know, Gran.' Rosa skipped alongside her grandmother. ‘So why is it called that?'

Rosa was now seven and had started school for the first time that day. Her teacher had pointed to a large map on the wall and told them that this was the island of Great Britain and was where they lived. It had sea all the way around it.

She had wanted to tell the teacher that she was wrong, that they lived on Sunk Island which had water around three parts of it; but she held her tongue for the mistress was very strict and would brook no disobedience, and Rosa was glad that she had, as the teacher then traced with her cane from the Spurn peninsula and along the river Humber and, pointing to a rounded smudge of land, said that that was Sunk Island.

Her grandmother seemed to be lost in thought. Her head lowered to watch where she was walking was covered by her black bonnet, which hid her face. Rosa shook her hand to attract her attention. ‘So why is it called an island?'

‘Because once it was,' she murmured. ‘You'll learn about it at school afore long. Everybody does. I did when I was a bairn and it was still an island then. Ships came along North Channel then, and we had to get a boat to go to Patrington Market.'

‘Where are we going?' Rosa asked. Her grandmother had collected her from school but they were not headed in the direction of home, but walking down a long track towards one of the other farmsteads.

‘Home Farm. Visiting Mrs Drew!' Her grandmother was brief. ‘Now hold your tongue. I'm trying to think!'

Two dogs prowling in the yard barked at them as they approached the farmhouse door but then wagged their tails and came to sniff at Rosa. ‘Wait here,' she was told. ‘I won't be long.'

Rosa climbed into an empty hay cart and sat down to wait. She wiggled her toes in her new boots which were too large and made her feet sore, but her grandmother had told her that she would grow into them. It was very tiring being at school and having to pay attention all day, she decided. She had looked out of the window of the old farmhouse, which was where the school was held, as they had no proper school on the island, and saw and heard a flock of wild ducks as they flew towards the marshy land of the estuary. She had craned her neck to watch their quacking flight and the teacher had seen her and brought her to the front of the class and asked what she was doing.

‘Watching 'ducks, miss,' she answered truthfully. ‘They're flying to 'mud flats.'

‘Watching 'ducks!' the mistress said sharply. ‘Instead of doing what?'

Rosa couldn't remember what it was she should have been doing, so she was put in a corner with her face to the wall until she could remember. It was only by dint of listening to the teacher and the hesitant chanting of the other pupils that she remembered. They were learning their times tables. She'd put up her hand and was then allowed back to her desk.

It was a warm September day and Rosa was glad to be out of school and into the open air. She hated the closed-in feeling of the schoolroom and constantly had to tear her gaze away from the window, where across the vast fields she could see lines of scythes-men in their cotton shirts and cord breeches, moving rhythmically and in unison, their scythe blades flashing across the ripened corn.

‘Hello, Rosa.' Matthew Drew gave her a bashful grin as he crossed the yard. ‘What you doing here?'

She shrugged. ‘Don't know. I came with my gran. She said I had to wait here.'

‘I heard Ma telling our Maggie that Mrs Jennings'd be coming afore long.'

Rosa frowned. Matthew was ten and attended school with her, along with three of his five sisters, Nellie, Lydia and Delia. ‘My gran says there's no secrets on Sunk Island!' she said.

There were few families living on Sunk Island and those who had made their homes in the
scattered farmhouses and cottages had mostly lived there for generations. With the exception of the wheelwright, the blacksmith, a shoemaker and cow keepers, they were all farmers, tending the rich fertile land as their fathers and grandfathers had done before them.

‘I'm going fishing in a minute,' Matthew said. ‘Do you want to come?'

Before Rosa could answer, the kitchen door opened, and Maggie, Matthew's eldest sister, called to her to come inside and for Matthew to change out of his school clothes and help Delia feed the hens.

‘But I'm going fishing wi' some of 'other lads,' he complained. ‘They're waiting on me!'

She indicated with her thumb for him to go inside, then said, ‘When you've finished you can go, otherwise you'll be in bother with Ma.'

Rosa followed Maggie inside. Home Farm was a bigger farm estate than her grandfather's and the farmhouse was bigger too. She went first into the back kitchen where a fire burned in the wide fireplace. A crane and hooks were set into the fireback and a piece of beef sizzled and spat as it turned on a spit. In the wall next to the fire was a bread oven, and next to the back door beneath a window was a deep stone sink and a wooden hand pump. In the corner of the kitchen stood a wooden washtub and posher, and on the shelf above was a row of box and flat irons.

The twins, Lydia and Nellie, were sitting with Delia at a scrubbed wooden table in the middle kitchen. A bright fire was burning in the inglenook and a large kettle hanging over it
emitted gentle puffs of steam. The sisters were dressed as Rosa was, in navy dresses with a white pinafore over them, and dark stockings and laced-up boots. They stared curiously at Rosa as she came in, but at a command from Maggie they got up from the table, opened the staircase door and ran up the narrow stairs to change out of their school clothes and put on their old ones. Maggie smiled at Rosa and led her through to the parlour where her grandmother was sitting with Mrs Drew.

‘I expected a visit,' Mrs Drew remarked as she opened a cupboard door at the side of the fireplace. There was no fire burning in here but the grate was laid ready with sticks and logs. Mrs Drew wore a plain high-necked grey gown and a white apron, with a flat cotton cap secured by pins set upon her head. After a moment's hesitation, she took down an earthenware tea service with painted blue flowers from the shelf and laid it on the table, then sat down and poured the tea. ‘I heard as you might be flitting.'

‘Aye, well, word soon gets around in our community,' Mrs Jennings said, ‘and I don't mind, as it saves me a deal of explanation if you know why I've come.'

Mrs Drew glanced towards Rosa, who hadn't been invited to sit down and still stood just inside the door. ‘Who'll tek over 'tenancy?'

‘Fowler, our foreman. He's a good young fellow, we couldn't have managed without him this last year. He asked if we'd put his name for'ard to Crown Agents if – when – Mr
Jennings—' She didn't finish what she was saying and pressed her mouth into a thin line.

‘I do understand, Mrs Jennings.' Mrs Drew was sympathetic. ‘It will be very hard for you.'

Mrs Jennings sighed. ‘Aye, it is. A lifetime spent here. But we shan't move yet – not till, well, till Mr Jennings passes on. He wants to die here.'

‘Of course he does,' murmured Mrs Drew. ‘Of course he does.' She poured two cups of tea, and then got up and taking a small beaker from the cupboard filled it with milk and handed it to Rosa.

‘Does Rosa know of 'change of circumstances, Mrs Jennings? That she'll be moving?'

Mrs Jennings sipped her tea and took a proffered slice of fruit cake, and as Rosa was offered a piece also, warned, ‘Don't drop crumbs, Rosa! No, she doesn't, Mrs Drew. I wanted to get things settled first before I telled her. You see, my cousin who I'll go to live with in Patrington is a single woman, never been married and had bairns.' She pursed her lips and continued. ‘Never wanted any either, and though she's offered me a home wi' her, mainly I have to say because she needs somebody to look after her now that she's getting on in years, she's not keen on having our Rosa.'

She gave a sniff. ‘She never saw eye to eye with my Mary and when she married 'foreigner, she vowed she would have nowt to do wi' her again. And she didn't. And she's never seen 'bairn either. Never once.'

‘Why ever would you want to live with such a
dowly woman, Mrs Jennings?' Mrs Drew was astonished.

‘Beggars can't be choosers, Mrs Drew. And by 'time we've sold up, there'll be no house and nowt much left for me to live on.'

‘So . . .' Mrs Drew said slowly. ‘The purpose of your visit to me?'

‘I want to ask if you'll have Rosa to live here with you? Treat her as one of 'family.'

‘But I've got a large family already, Mrs Jennings,' Mrs Drew demurred. ‘Why, our Delia's same age as Rosa, I don't know if I could manage anybody else's bairn.'

‘Reason I'm asking.' Mrs Jennings leant forward and Rosa heard her corsets creak. ‘You and our Mary were expecting at 'same time; she said as how good you were towards her, when it was her first bairn and her husband going missing and all.'

Mrs Drew nodded. ‘Aye, and it was my ninth, and eight of 'em still living, bless the Lord. She was a right bonny lass, was Mary.' A slight sad smile lightened her plain features. ‘Such a great pity
he
never came back, though a lot of folk never expected him to.' She shook her head. ‘He was a foreigner, he never would have settled here on Sunk Island.'

‘But our Rosa is an islander,' again Mrs Jennings leaned towards Mrs Drew, and again Rosa heard the creak of whalebone. ‘An islander like her ma and me, and her grandfer. It's said that one of Mr Jennings's great-grandfaythers worked for Colonel Gilby's grandson, William.' She sat back and folded her arms across her
ample bosom. ‘And you can't go back much further than that.'

Rosa had been only half listening but she pricked her ears on hearing the name Gilby. She had heard only today at school of Colonel Gilby, the founder of Sunk Island, who had been leased the land by King Charles the Second when it was little more than a sandbank. Colonel Gilby had built the first house which was still standing, and started the embankments which even today, the teacher had said, were still being raised to save more and more land from the Humber.

‘This is a very special place.' The teacher had gazed down at them as she walked between their desks. ‘Amongst the richest, most fertile land in England, and all of you,' her finger had pointed around the room at each of them in turn, ‘should consider yourselves privileged to have been born here.'

Rosa had dared to put up her hand. The teacher had raised her eyebrows. ‘I trust this is a worthwhile question, Rosa Carlos?' she'd said, ‘and not a time-waster.'

‘Miss,' she'd piped up. ‘So who does 'land belong to now?'

‘A good question and very topical,' the mistress answered, and Rosa had preened. ‘It belongs to the King, King William the Fourth. God bless him.'

‘God bless him,' the children had chorused.

‘All land gained from the river or sea belongs to the King or his successors. Sunk Island has been in the hands of 'Lords of Holderness for many years, and they rented it out to the
farmers.' She had gazed at them all in turn. ‘But from this year, this year of eighteen hundred and thirty-three, the land is to be leased direct to the farmers who live and work here, so that they may look after it themselves.'

‘We'll have a deal of extra expense,' Mrs Drew's voice interrupted Rosa's meditating, ‘now that 'Commissioners have leased directly to 'farmers. We've maintenance of banks to fund and Brick Road's been started already. We'll get some help from 'Crown I know, but there's a goodly amount to come out of our own pockets.'

Mrs Jennings nodded. ‘I know all that, Mrs Drew. But bit o' money that's left after we've sold up 'farm will be Rosa's, either for her keep or to use if she should wed when she's of age.'

‘Well, I'll have to speak to Mr Drew of course. Decision will be his.' She gazed at Rosa for a moment before saying, ‘I wouldn't want 'child to go where she wasn't wanted. You'd want to see her of course, every so often?'

‘Well, Mothering Sunday would be nice.' Mrs Jennings's eyes suddenly became moist. ‘Seeing as I've lost my own daughter. But more than owt, I want to be sure that Rosa will be cared for if owt should happen to me, and that she'll stay here on Sunk Island where she belongs.'

‘But you'll be here for a good few years yet, Mrs Jennings,' Mrs Drew assured her. ‘You're hale and hearty for your years. You'll not be leaving this mortal coil for a long time!'

Mrs Jennings gave a deep sigh. ‘God willing I won't.' She repeated, ‘God willing.'

‘AND YOU SAY
that Fowler wants 'tenancy of Marsh Farm.' Mr Drew was seated by the kitchen fire in his usual chair and addressed his wife as she brought up the subject of them taking the child Rosa.

‘Eventually,' said Mrs Drew. ‘Though 'day can't be far off. I hear that 'doctor is calling on Mr Jennings every morning.' She clasped her hands together and murmured a quick prayer. ‘It would be our Christian duty to take her, Mr Drew. Mrs Jennings wants her to stay on Sunk Island where she belongs.'

‘But at whose expense, Mrs Drew?' he said sombrely. ‘Have you thought of that? Will 'health and strength of our own kindred suffer if we take on another mouth to feed?' He eyed her keenly and there was a bright spot of colour on each of his cheeks which often appeared if he became overwrought or anxious. ‘The good Lord moves in mysterious ways. We must pray for guidance.'