The Fleethaven Trilogy (124 page)

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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

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BOOK: The Fleethaven Trilogy
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As he hauled himself gingerly to his feet, gasping with
every movement, and began to walk, bent over like an old
man of ninety, Ella wondered whether perhaps he really
meant what he said.

It took more than a few days for Rob to want to look at
his bike. He spent three days in bed and, as they had both
predicted, got not a scrap of sympathy from anyone.

‘Well, I didn’t want him to have a motorbike anyway,’
Rosie said. ‘They’re dangerous. But it was his dad encouraged
him. Like a couple of kids, they are, with machines.
And your grandad’s no better.’ Rosie wagged her finger at
Ella.

Ella pulled a face but said nothing. This time even her
grandad had been stern. ‘I told you not to go on the pillion.
You hear me, Ella? You keep off that bike till he’s passed
his test properly.’

Ella hung her head and averted her eyes, but made no
promise; she didn’t like making promises she had no
intention of keeping.

Nineteen

Through the latter half of May and into June came the
exams. Rob and Ella sat a few desks away from each other
in the school hall, the hot sun streaming through the long
windows. Afterwards, they met to discuss the papers and
rejoice or commiserate in turn.

‘It’s a relief to get out at night and into the fields to help
with the haymaking,’ Rob muttered. ‘All this swotting isn’t
really my scene.’

‘You want to go on to college, though, don’t you?’ Ella
teased.

‘That’s different. That’s farming.’

‘Oh, you!’ she said, and punched him playfully on the
shoulder.

A week later, he said, ‘We’re all off up the coffee bar in
town to celebrate the end of exams. You coming?’

‘Right then. I’ll ask Grandpa.’

Ella was getting crafty now. She had found that if she
asked her grandfather first and he said yes then her
grandmother, though she might not agree, never counter-manded
his approval.

Ella put her head on one side and regarded Rob. ‘Can I
have a lift, though?’

He pulled a face. ‘Not right into town. I don’t take my
test till next week and I don’t want to get caught.’

‘That’s okay. Drop me off at the end of the Point Road
and I’ll walk the rest.’

He looked doubtful. ‘It’s a long way right into town
even from there.’

She threw back her head and laughed. ‘I’ve got used to
it now. It’s a long time since I was able to hop on a bus
just when I want.’

‘See you later, then,’ he said, and kick started the
motorbike, the engine throbbing in the quietness of the
countryside. She leant on the gate and watched him ride
away, the noise of the bike’s engine audible all the way to
Rookery Farm. She smiled fondly and then sighed. Oh, but
he was good-looking; with his black hair slicked back now
with Brylcreem and the black blazer he wore with shiny
brass buttons. Dark brown eyes and always a big grin on
his face, he was still the merry, friendly lad he had always
been. No wonder all the girls were after him.

She glanced down at herself and sighed. And no wonder
the boys weren’t after her. She was always dressed in a
check shirt and trousers. Her hair, though curly, was still
cut very short and she hadn’t the money to experiment
with make-up like Janice did. But then, Janice was earning.
When Ella had suggested that she might take a Saturday
job in the summer, helping out in a candy-floss stall in the
amusement park on the sea-front, Esther’s reply had been
the same as always. ‘Ya needed here.’

Ella turned from the gate and glanced across the flat
expanse of fields towards Rookery Farm remembering
what Grandma Eland had told her. ‘Ya gran was treated
like a skivvy when she was a young lass until she walked
out and came here.’

As if on cue her grandmother’s voice sounded across
the yard. ‘Come on, Missy. ’Ave ya nothing better to do
than stand there day-dreaming? There’s the butter-making
to do.’

Ella looked at the woman, still remarkably slim, standing in the doorway. Left home, had she? And at about my
age, Ella mused. Just walked out and left her home and
family. Ella screwed up her mouth thoughtfully. One day,
she thought, I might just do the same.

‘I know your little game, Missy. Always asking ya grandpa
first so’s I can’t say no. I weren’t born yesterday. Well, ya
can go this time but in future you ask me. You hear?’

Ella faced her. ‘Why are you so against me having even
a bit of fun? It’s not as if I’m always asking to go out.
Once a week at the most. Rob goes out nearly every night.’

‘Then more fool his mam and dad for letting him.’

‘Why? Where’s the harm?’

‘Ya’ll come to no good. Staying out till all hours.’

‘Ten o’clock? All hours? Oh, Gran, really! Why, Janice
Souter stays out till midnight and—’

Esther wagged her finger in Ella’s face. ‘Dun’t give me
that. The Souters’ way of going on is nowt to be bragging
about.’

Ella stared back at her grandmother. ‘Well, Mrs Souter
tries to stop her, but she can’t manage it. Janice stays out
anyway.’

‘Well, dun’t you think you can try that with me, Missy.’

Esther turned away, satisfied to have made her point,
complacent that Ella would not dare to disobey her, so she
did not see the narrowing of the girl’s eyes and the
scheming look on her face.

‘Where are we going, then?’ Ella leant back in her chair
and smiled at the other three as they stared at her in
amazement.

‘Eh?’

‘Didn’t you ought to be getting home? It’s quarter to
ten, y’know.’ This from Rob whilst Ella saw the slow smile
spreading across Janice’s face.

‘At last!’ the girl murmured. ‘I wondered just how long
it would take you to rebel against the old biddy.’

‘What? What are you on about?’ Jimmy, confused,
glanced from one to the other.

‘She’s going to stay out – late!’ Janice said in a stage-whisper.

‘Has ya gran said ya can?’ Rob asked.

‘No.’

‘Then come on,’ he said, pushing the empty espresso
coffee cup away from him and getting up, ‘I’m taking you
home.’

Janice laughed. ‘Go on, Ella, be a devil and stay out
late. Real late. Till at least eleven!’

‘Shut it, Janice,’ Rob said evenly. ‘I’m helping with
haymaking at Brumbys’. I dun’t want me ears boxed by ’er
gran when I get there tomorrow.’

‘I reckon you’re as frightened of that old witch as she
is.’

‘I’m not frightened of her,’ Ella shot back, ‘but I just
don’t want her stopping me going out altogether.’

‘Exactly!’ Janice laughed. ‘
My
mother couldn’t stop me
if she wanted to. See what I mean?’

‘Come on, Ella. Let’s go,’ Rob said.

‘I – I’m not coming.’

‘Oh, yes, you are.’

‘No, I’m not.’

Janice, a gleeful expression on her face, glanced backwards
and forwards from one to the other. ‘This is better
than a pantomime,’ she murmured, whilst Jimmy just
muttered, ‘I wish someone would tell me what the heck is
going on.’

‘Look, Ella, dun’t be daft,’ Rob tried to reason. ‘If ya
mek ya gran real mad, she’ll stop ya coming out at all.’

‘I reckon she’s going to anyway. She’s threatened as
much tonight.’

He sat down heavily beside her again and spread his
hands trying to reason with her. ‘Look, you’ll only make
matters worse. At the moment ya grandpa’s on your side,
but if you stay out late, then you’ll lose his support an’
all.’

‘So? If that happens then I’ll leave. I’ll walk out. Just
like
she
did when she was my age.’

‘Run away, ya mean?’ Jimmy said, catching on at last.

‘Where’d you run to?’ Janice’s tone was disbelieving.

‘Back to Lincoln,’ Ella said promptly. ‘Back to live with
my aunty Peggy.’

Janice blinked, nonplussed. She had not expected such
a confident answer; one that had obviously already been
thought out. ‘Well, if ya do go, let me know, ’cos I’ll come
with ya.’

Slowly Rob shook his head and let out his breath,
which he seemed to have been holding. ‘Well, it’s up to
you,’ he said, getting up again. ‘But I want no part of it. I
like ya gran. I always have. And there’s no way I’m going
to help you upset her. So, night-night, all. I’m off home.
See ya.’

‘Hey,’ Ella called after him, standing up suddenly and
knocking the table, causing the coffee still left in the cups
to slosh from side to side. ‘Wait a minute! How’m I
supposed to get home if you go now?’

From the doorway he turned back, raised his hand in
farewell and shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘That’s your
problem. If you’re such a big girl now that you can defy ya
gran and stay out till all hours—’

‘You even sound like her!’ Ella flared back at him.

He took no notice but went on, ‘Then ya big enough to
find ya own way home.’

Whistling loudly, he went through the door, letting it
swing to behind him, and walked across the pavement to
his motorbike propped up near the kerb. She watched as
he bent and lifted his crash helmet and gloves from one of
the red wooden panniers on either side at the rear of the
bike. Pulling them on, he threw his right leg over the bike
and eased it up off its stand.

‘Oh, damn!’ she muttered crossly. ‘I’ll have to go. I’ll
get stranded if I don’t.’

‘I thought you’d give in,’ Janice smirked. ‘Poor old
Cinder-Ella! Even she stayed till the clock struck twelve.’

‘He’s going, El,’ Jimmy put in and Ella snatched up her
bag and ran for the door.

‘Rob – wait! Rob!’

Someone had put a coin in the juke-box and the voice
of Bill Haley reverberated through the coffee bar, drowning
her words. She pulled open the door and ran out into the
street.

He had been pulling away from the pavement but
happened to look back to see her running towards him.
His toes touching the road, he balanced the bike as she
climbed on to the back. Then he revved the engine and
they roared away into the night.

It was a clear, starlit night as they drove along the coast
road. The sound of his motorbike could, no doubt, be
heard for miles across the flat fields, echoing through the
darkness, louder at night in the stillness.

As he pulled into the yard at Brumbys’ Farm, he cut the
engine and in the silence he said softly, ‘I’m glad you
decided to come home.’

Morosely, she muttered, ‘I didn’t have a lot of choice. I
suppose you think you’ve won, don’t you?’

‘Won? Oh, Ella, it isn’t a game, a competition. Ya
gran’s only trying to take care of you. She cares about
you.’

‘Huh! Pull the other one. She only took me in out of
duty and she never lets me forget it.’

The back door opened and, in the light streaming from
the back scullery, the subject of their conversation stood in
silhouette.

‘Ya late,’ was her only greeting. ‘It’s nearly half past ten.’

The two young people moved forward into the shaft of
light.

‘It was my fault, Missus,’ Rob was going ahead, smiling
and apologetic, yet never fawning. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Ah, well, that’s all right then, Boy. I know
you
wouldn’t
do it on purpose.’ There was a pause, then suddenly, with
one of her swift and unexpected changes of mood, Esther
smiled and opened the door wider. ‘Come in and have a
bite, why don’t you, Boy? We haven’t seen much of you
lately. How’s ya mam and dad and – er – all?’ Even in her
most expansive mood, it seemed Esther could still not
bring herself to enquire after his grandmother, Beth Eland.

But Rob merely grinned and stepped into the kitchen.
‘They’re all fine.’ He slightly accented the ‘all’ but not
enough to make it pointed. ‘Evening, Mester.’ He nodded
to Jonathan who was sitting in the wooden Windsor chair
beside the range, his feet just in their socks resting on the
brass fender, wriggling his toes towards the warmth of the
fire.

Summer and winter there was always a fire burning in
the range grate and most nights would find Jonathan
soothing his aches and pains in front of it.

Her fingers cupped round the mug of cocoa, Ella
listened to the other three talking, but took no part herself.
She was still smarting at having been coerced, tricked
almost, into coming home at the time her grandmother
stipulated.

‘Well, I’d best be off mesen,’ Rob said at last. ‘I’ve to be
up early in the morning to help me dad cut North Marsh
Field and I’ll come over in the afternoon and give you a
hand here. ’Night.’

‘Good night, lad,’ Jonathan said, and Esther went with
Rob to the back door.

Ella stood up and put her mug on the table and, giving
her grandfather a swift peck on his forehead, went towards
the door through the living room and to the stairs. As she
moved through the adjacent room, she heard Esther come
back into the kitchen and say to Jonathan, ‘Eh, that lad’s
so like his grandad, I could almost think it was him
standing there. Gives me quite a turn sometimes. Mind
you, he ain’t got Matthew’s dark side . . .’

Ella, livid at Rob for being forced to come home so
early and with Janice’s teasing still rankling, heard the
words but was not really listening. She was still smarting
with resentment at what she considered unfair treatment.

If they treat me like a child, then I’ll act like one, she
thought, the streak of childish rebellion that had always
been part of her nature coming to the fore once more. She
slammed the door from the living room into the hall,
making the china in Esther’s cabinet rattle, and then she
stamped up the stairs, thumping her feet on every step. She
half expected Esther to arrive at the bottom of the stairs,
shouting up to her and wagging her finger. But her
grandmother did not appear and for once Ella felt cheated
of a battle.

Haymaking was well under way and Ella was expected to
help as soon as she arrived home from school. Throwing
off her dark green school uniform, she was soon dressed in
check shirt, trousers and rubber boots and running out to
the meadows, waving to her grandpa as she ran towards
him.

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