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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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As he was about to go below, he turned and glanced back towards the bridge. Even through the driving rain, he could see that Joe was watching him. Then he glanced sideways to where Angus stood
on the deck alongside Sammy. He saw Angus look round and grin at him, but then, as Robert watched, the boy’s gaze went beyond him and a look of horror spread across his young features.

As the wave swept on to the boat, lifting Robert high in the air and carrying him over the side, the last thing he remembered was the stricken look on his son’s face.

Fifty-Two

‘Edwin, you must have heard something? They were due home today. Surely Joe’s radioed in by now?’

She could see that Edwin was worried too and she was convinced he was holding something back.

‘Even if you’ve had bad news, I’d sooner know.’ All the old fears were crowding in on her. The terrible waiting, the awful not knowing . . . ‘Please,
Edwin.’

‘Dearest Jeannie.’ He took her hands in his. ‘Try not to worry. Look, let me take you out to lunch and when we come back—’

‘No, no, I couldn’t eat a thing.’ She pulled free of him and began to pace up and down his office coming back each time to stand before the window overlooking the docks.
‘You must have heard something.’ Jeannie was too knowledgeable to be put off so lightly. ‘Are any of the other ships that went out at the same time, back?’

Edwin cleared his throat. ‘Er, well, yes.’

‘How many?’

He hesitated a moment and she could see the tortured expression in his eyes. Reluctantly, Edwin admitted, ‘Most of them.’

Jeannie put her hands to her cheeks and stared at him. She took a deep breath and, her gaze never leaving his face, she asked, ‘Edwin, what is it you’re no’ telling
me?’

He sighed and said heavily, ‘There was a storm—’

‘What! You dinna mean their ship’s missing?’

‘No – no,’ he said swiftly.

‘What happened then? Are they all safe?’

But all her brother-in-law would say was, ‘Joe’s a fine skipper, Jeannie. I promise you. Just put your trust in Joe.’

She turned back to look out of the window once more, across the docks towards the river. Like a figure turned to stone, she stood there the whole day, just watching and waiting . . .

Jeannie refused to leave the office until, at almost midnight, Edwin insisted on driving her home. She lay awake for most of the night, tossing and turning, debating whether
she should get in touch with Thelma. At about four o’clock in the morning she fell into an exhausted sleep. Then, as dawn broke over the North Sea, the telephone shrilling in the hall below
dragged her back to consciousness.

‘Jeannie, that you?’ Edwin’s voice came down the line.

‘Yes. What is it? Tell me quickly.’

‘It’s all right. Their ship’s coming in. She’ll be docking on the morning tide in about an hour . . .’

Before he could say any more, Jeannie said, ‘I’ll be there.’ And she dropped the receiver into its cradle and was running back up the stairs before Edwin, at the other end,
could draw breath to ask her if she wanted him to come and pick her up.

‘Oh well,’ he said aloud to his empty office. ‘I’ll go anyway.’

‘Oh Edwin, they’re a’ right? All of them? You’ve spoken to them?’ She drew him into the kitchen and poured him a cup of coffee.

‘This is most welcome, Jeannie. I went back to the office after I dropped you here.’

‘You promised me you were going home,’ she scolded, but she was laughing, light-headed with relief.

He smiled up at her, but she could see that the anxiety was still not entirely gone from his eyes. ‘It was the only way I could get you to come home and try to get a little rest. I knew,
if I didn’t say that, you’d have stayed up all night at the office too.’

‘Aye, I would.’

She watched as he drank his coffee, standing impatiently before him, almost willing him to finish it quickly so that they could leave for the docks.

‘What time will she be in?’

‘As soon as the dock gates open, I don’t doubt. Joe likes to land his fish first to get the best prices.’

‘And they are a’ right?’ she asked again, but Edwin avoided her eyes now. Standing up, he said, ‘Come on, time we were going.’

She stood once more at the window of Edwin’s office, feeling now as if she had not moved away from it at all in the last twenty-four hours. She squinted towards the place
where the dock gates still remained closed, any ships waiting to dock were still drifting on the Humber’s tide.

‘When will he open the gates?’ Jeannie asked for the third time.

‘Another five minutes or so, I reckon.’

It was the longest five minutes of Jeannie’s life until she saw the gates open and the first ship came nosing her way through.

‘Is that the
Arctic Queen II
? I canna see . . .’ She almost pressed her nose to the pane in her anxiety.

‘Come on,’ Edwin said. ‘We’ll go down. I’ll find out where she’s berthing.’

Jeannie was waiting on the quayside with Edwin when the first of the deck-hands came down the ladder.

On the bridge she saw Joe and, shading her eyes to look up at him, she knew that he had seen her. He seemed to look down on her for a long moment and then he turned away and disappeared from her
view. Several other men came down the ladder and walked away without glancing in their direction. And already the lumpers were gathering near the ship.

Then she saw them. First Sammy came down the ladder followed by Angus. Jeannie sent up a whispered prayer of thankfulness.

Next came Joe. As he stepped ashore, they seemed to hesitate for a moment, standing together, the three of them, as Jeannie’s glance went back to the top of the ladder, expecting to see
Robert swinging his leg over the side and coming down to join them.

But there was no one else.

They were walking towards her, just the three of them.

Jeannie pulled in a breath and held it. Her hand fluttered nervously to her throat. Oh no, not Robert.

Her glance was darting between them as they came towards her. And then she was aware that Joe’s arm was about Angus’s shoulders. She looked into their faces, trying to read what she
most feared to learn. Her legs felt weak beneath her and, blindly, she stretched out her trembling hands towards them. Towards her three boys.

But Angus was smiling, calling out to her now. ‘Mother, Mother, it’s all right. Dad’s all right. At least . . .’ They reached her now and surrounded her, hugging her. All
three of them.

‘He’s safe, Mam,’ Sammy said quickly. ‘But he’s had an accident . . .’

‘We had some foul weather, Mother, and a huge wave washed Dad overboard.’ Angus was determined to be the one to tell her. His grin widened. ‘But, you’d never believe it,
the very next wave washed him back on board again.’

‘He was badly bruised,’ Joe explained, his deep voice calmer than the other two. ‘And his leg’s broken. He tried to come right home, but we could see he was in a lot of
pain. When we got off the coast of Scotland, we radioed ashore to one of the company’s agents and he arranged for the local lifeboat to come and take him ashore. He’s in hospital in
Kirkcaldy.’

Jeannie gasped. ‘My home? Near my home?’

‘Aye.’ Joe grinned and imitated her Scottish tongue. ‘You’re awae hame, Mam. We’re putting you a train . . .’ He put his arms about her, holding her close to
his chest and resting his cheek against her hair. Huskily, he said, ‘You’re going home, Mam, just like you always wanted.’

Her eyes brimming with tears, Jeannie looked up into the face of her first-born, unable to speak for the lump in her throat. She wanted to say something, but the words would not come.

‘There’s just one thing.’ He was smiling now, his eyes teasing. ‘We’re sending my brother, Angus, with you.’ There was only the merest emphasis on the word
‘brother’ but hearing it, the lump in her throat swelled. Again Joe put an arm about the younger boy’s shoulders and, as Angus grinned up at him, Jeannie could see the hero
worship in his eyes.

‘Just to make sure,’ Joe was still speaking, his voice sounding a little husky now, ‘that you come back to us.’

Now the tears overflowed and ran down her face as she held out her arms, trying to envelop them all.

She’d come back. Oh yes, she’d come back. That was what she wanted to say to Joe, to say to them all. Home was not in Scotland now. Home was here in Havelock.

With Robert and her three beloved boys.

Margaret Dickinson
Jenny’s War

ISBN: 978-0-330-54430-6

Is it possible for a ten-year-old girl to fall in love? Jenny
Mercer thinks so. Evacuated to Lincolnshire from the East
End of London at the outbreak of war, she is frightened of
the wide open spaces and the huge skies. But the kindly
Thornton family soon makes her feel welcome. And no one
more so than Georgie, the handsome RAF fighter pilot who
is caught up in the battle for Britain’s survival. When
Georgie is posted missing, presumed dead, Jenny is devastated.

More heartbreak is to come when Jenny’s mother Dot
decides that she wants her daughter home and Jenny is
forced to come back to live in the city which is now under
almost daily attack from enemy bombers. Dot’s ‘fancy man’,
Arthur Osborne, treats Jenny kindly. But is Arthur only
interested in the girl because she can be useful to him? No
one will suspect a ten-year-old girl of being involved with
the Black Market . . .

When the law comes a little too close for Arthur’s comfort,
the family flees the city and heads towards the hills and
dales of Derbyshire. There, Jenny is caught up in a life of
deception. All she really wants is to go back to Lincolnshire,
for Jenny has never given up hope that one day, Georgie will
come back . . .

The Fisher Lass

Born in Gainsborough, Lincolnshire, Margaret Dickinson moved to the coast at the age of seven and so began her love for the sea and the Lincolnshire landscape.

Her ambition to be a writer began early and she had her first novel published at the age of twenty-five. This was followed by twenty-eight further titles including
Plough the Furrow
,
Sow the Seed
and
Reap the Harvest
, which make up her Lincolnshire Fleethaven trilogy. Many of her novels are set in the heart of her home county but in
Tangled Threads
and
Twisted Strands
, the stories included not only Lincolnshire but also the framework knitting and lace industries of Nottingham. The Workhouse Museum at Southwell in Nottinghamshire inspired
Without Sin
and the magnificent countryside of Derbyshire and the fascinating town of Macclesfield in Cheshire formed the backdrop for the story of
Pauper’s Gold
.
Wish Me Luck
returned to Lincolnshire once more and the county was also the setting for
Sing As We Go.
Part of the story in
Suffragette Girl
took place in Davos, Switzerland, but
Sons and Daughters
was set solely in the flat marshlands near the East Coast.
Forgive and Forget
centres on the rich history of the beautiful city of Lincoln.
Jenny’s War
is divided between Margaret Dickinson’s beloved Lincolnshire, wartime London and the rolling hills and dales of Derbyshire. Second World War Sheffield is the setting for
The Clippie Girls
.

www.margaret-dickinson.co.uk

A
LSO BY
M
ARGARET
D
ICKINSON

Plough the Furrow

Sow the Seed

Reap the Harvest

The Miller’s Daughter

Chaff Upon the Wind

The Tulip Girl

The River Fork

Tangled Threads

Twisted Strands

Red Sky in the Morning

Without Sin

Pauper’s Gold

Wish Me Luck

Sing As We Go

Suffragette Girl

Sons and Daughters

Forgive and Forget

Jenny’s War

The Clippie Girls

Acknowledgements

Grimsby is the inspiration for this novel although the story is entirely fictitious. I am very grateful to Mr Richard Doughty, Director of Museums, Archives & Archeology,
and all his staff and volunteers at the National Fishing Heritage Centre in Grimsby for their interest and help, especially Mike Cullum and Doug Richards for sharing with me their experiences
aboard minesweepers during World War II; Ray Smith for his wonderful tours of the
Ross Tiger
; Bob Roach, Craig Lazenby, Fisheries Historian, and Russell Hollowood, Fisheries Officer, for
general background information and patiently answering innumerable questions.

My special thanks to Mike Coulson, of Skegness, who served as a radio operator aboard trawlers for two and a half years in the early 1960s and so kindly read the whole script
for me.

My love and thanks as always to my family and friends, especially those who read and helped edit the script in the early stages; my sister and brother-in-law, Robena and Fred
Hill; my brother and sister-in-law, David and Una Dickinson; my friends, Pauline Griggs and Linda and Terry Allaway. Thank you all so much for your hard work!

BOOK: The Fisher Lass
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