The Fleethaven Trilogy (132 page)

Danny put his arm about her. In the cool of the wind
that whipped across the flat, desolate airfield, his touch
was warm, comforting. ‘Don’t say that, love. I honestly
don’t think he even knows of your existence. If he did . . .’

He left the words lying unspoken between them, for in
truth, neither knew the real answer.

‘Come on, let’s take a look around.’ He glanced down
at her. ‘If you want to, that is.’

Ella nodded and her voice was husky as she added,
‘Show me where Mum worked. Tell me what she did.’

‘She was in the MT Section, Motor Transport. I think,’
he steered her in the direction of a square of concrete with
buildings around it, ‘this was the MT yard. I’m a bit hazy.
I wasn’t here many minutes,’ and he added ruefully,
‘literally.’

The buildings were empty and the yard clear except for
a heap of rubbish in one corner, an old propeller sticking
out the only reminder of the aircraft that had once filled
the skies above the airfield. Ella gazed around trying to
imagine it alive and humming with activity: huge lorries
and jeeps, cars and motorcycles and, of course, the huge,
lumbering, magnificent aircraft.

‘She drove the CO about, didn’t she?’

‘Most of the time, yes. But she’d be under the officer in
charge of the MT Section. If the CO didn’t need her, she’d
be detailed for other duties.’

‘What?’

‘Well, let’s think. She used to drive the crew bus, taking
the airmen out to the aircraft when they were going on an
operation, maybe meet them when they came back – that
sort of thing. But she’d never be far from the camp just in
case the CO needed her.’

‘So . . .’ Ella said slowly, thoughtfully, ‘she spent most
of her time with the CO, did she?’

Danny looked down at her. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘She
did.’

They walked across to the control tower, its windows
broken, only shards of glass remaining, the paint peeling; the glass lookout on the roof had crumbled and lay in a
twisted heap of metal.

‘Can we go inside?’

Danny glanced about him and shrugged. ‘Don’t see why
not.’

The door, as he pushed it open, scraped on the concrete
floor and their footsteps echoed eerily as they went inside.
It was gloomy, and a melancholy air hung over the whole
place. Upstairs, Danny said, ‘This is the control room
where Mavis and Isobel worked as R/T Operators. They
talked to the aircraft.’

The room was littered with old chairs, desks and
wooden shapes that had once held radios now ripped out.
On the wall was a huge blackboard with the name
SUDDABY painted in white at the top. Underneath was
the word RAID and blank spaces for details to be filled in.
And the column that seemed, to the wide-eyed girl, the
most poignant, RETURN.

How many times had that last column remained heartrendingly
incomplete?

Had her mother sat here watching that board, Ella
wondered, waiting through the long hours of darkness for
the sound of returning aircraft, her gaze riveted on that
last column, waiting for the return of the man she loved?

He must have been on this station, she reasoned. But
had he been a pilot, or a member of the ground crew, or
maybe an officer? Maybe, just maybe, a very high-ranking
officer. Perhaps she was standing in the very place where
her father, too, had stood waiting for the sound of
Lancaster engines in the night air. Perhaps they, her mother
and father, had waited together . . .

Ella felt a shudder run through her. ‘Let’s go, Uncle
Danny.’

They returned to the car and drove in silence for a
while, then, her mind beginning to work again, Ella said,
‘You know the day Mum died, the day of the floods?’

‘Mmm?’

‘She was all excited, I think she was going to meet
someone. She’d had a letter. It was waiting for her at
Brumbys’ Farm.’ For a moment hope sprang again, and
she turned to look at him. ‘Do you think my father could
have got in touch and she’d been going to meet him?’

Danny lifted his shoulders. ‘I honestly don’t know.’

‘And you really don’t have any idea who he might be?’

‘The only people who might be able to make an
educated guess are Mavis and Isobel. They were her friends
at the time. They’re your best bet.’

Ella was thoughtful for a while, then she asked, ‘Where
are we going now?’

‘Back to Lynthorpe. We’re – we’re going to see ya
mam’s grave. Now a’ ya sure?’

Ella nodded firmly. ‘No. I’ll be fine. But maybe we could
get some flowers on the way, could we?’

He smiled and his voice was husky as he said, ‘That’s a
nice idea, love.’

Now it was Ella who led the way through the churchyard
towards the corner where her mother was buried. There
was a simple white headstone with the inscription, ‘In
loving memory of Katharine Hilton, born 4th September
1912. Tragically drowned in the East Coast floods 31st
January 1953.’

Ella stood looking down at the grave and then gently
laid the flowers on top.

Danny, standing beside her, said softly, ‘We fell in love,
ya know, ya mam and me.’

Ella stared at him. Fleeting memories filled her mind:
Kate and Danny greeting each other, their fond embrace,
the look in their eyes when they looked at each other, their
whispered conversations. Now, with his brief words, it
was all explained. And she understood, too, why no one
else, not even Aunty Rosie, had minded their obvious
affection for each other. They had all understood.

‘We didn’t know then, you see, that we were related.
We just thought that all the time your gran was trying to
keep us apart, it was because of her feud with my mother.
They were so busy trying to keep their own secrets, they
never thought about what might happen to us.’

Ella gasped. ‘How awful! When did this happen?’

‘We were eighteen. When we told both families we
wanted to get married, all hell broke loose.’ He was silent
for a moment, gazing down at the earth where his first love
lay. He took a deep breath and pointed to the grave to one
side. ‘There, see that one? Matthew Hilton?’

Ella stepped to one side and bent forward to read for
herself. ‘Matthew Hilton, husband of Esther Hilton and
father of Katharine, born 20th August 1890, drowned
January 1920.’

‘He was drowned too,’ Ella murmured. ‘Like Mum.
Funny, I never noticed this grave on the day of her funeral.’

‘Hardly surprising,’ Danny commented and then went
on with his story. ‘There was a dreadful storm at the Point.
At that time we lived on an old boat on the river bank. It
wasn’t safe and we came off and went to the Harrises’
cottage. But he,’ Danny’s eyes too were on the Matthews
grave, ‘he thought we were still on the boat. He came to
rescue us, me mam and me.’

She stared at him as, at last, she began to understand.
‘He was Gran’s first husband, wasn’t he? And she’s bitter
because he was drowned trying to save you and your
mother?’ Ella felt a moment’s empathy for her grandmother. No wonder Esther had been so frantic when
Grandpa Godfrey had gone to the Point to rescue Grandma
Eland at the time of the floods; she must have been so
afraid she might lose Jonathan in exactly the same way.

He nodded and she went on, easing his telling of the
story by saying the words for him. ‘And he was trying to
save
you
and
your
mam because he was your father too.’

Danny nodded. ‘Yes, Matthew Hilton was ya mam’s
dad . . .’ he paused and pulled in a deep shuddering breath
as he added hoarsely, ‘and mine.’

There was a world of sadness and pain in his tone as he
went on. ‘It was all kept such a dark, dreadful secret that
we had no idea. We grew up together, ya mam and me.
We were kids together and when we fell in love, well . . .’

Ella looked down again at her mother’s grave, imagining
how they’d felt, loving each other and yet knowing
they could never, ever, be together.

‘We were shattered – devastated,’ Danny said hoarsely.
‘Our whole world was torn apart.’ He swallowed and
then, more strongly, continued his story. ‘Years before,
Matthew Hilton lived in the row of cottages at the Point
and Beth, my mam, lived next door. They’d been sweethearts,
were “walking out together” as they used to call
it.’

It was a quaint, old-fashioned phrase, but neither of
them were in the mood for smiling just now. Ella remained
silent, patiently waiting while Danny explained everything
in his own time. She could sense he was finding it difficult
to recall the heartbreak of all those years ago and what
had caused it; a pain that perhaps he had tried to keep
locked away for years. That he was reliving it, for her sake,
touched the young girl deeply.

‘Matthew was, by all accounts, a bit of a flirt. He had
an eye for the girls, y’know? When ya gran arrived at
Fleethaven Point, like I was telling you earlier, well, he
made a play for her. But she was having none of him.’

He paused and Ella could not resist asking, ‘Then how
come she married him?’

‘Well, now.’ Danny seemed to hesitate. ‘This is where it
all gets a bit, well, messy. Ya gran, as you now know, was
born illegitimate and, I think, because of it, all her life she’s
been rigid in her views of right and wrong. You know
what I mean?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Ella said bitterly. ‘I know what you mean all
right. I suppose that’s why she wouldn’t believe me and
Rob.’

‘It’s been her own moral code. You can’t blame her for
that, really.’

‘I suppose it’s understandable when she obviously suffered
so much because of the circumstances of her birth
and why,’ the girl added, as compassion came slowly with
the unfolding of the tale, ‘she turned against my mum –
and – and me.’

His arm tightened about her shoulders.

‘So?’ she prompted him to continue. ‘What happened?’

‘Ya gran held out against Matthew, wouldn’t give in to
him and the more she did that, the more he was mad to
have her.’

‘But your mother? She did?’

He nodded. ‘She didn’t see it as wrong if you truly loved
someone. And she thought he loved her . . .’ Danny turned
his dark brown eyes to look into Ella’s bright blue gaze. ‘I
think he did, but he found that out too late.’

‘Let me get this straight,’ Ella said. ‘Matthew and Beth
were going out and gran came along and he left your
mother when she was expecting you, I take it?’

He nodded, but said swiftly, ‘But he didn’t know that,
not until later. Not till after he’d married Esther.’

‘So he left your mother, married Esther and
then
found
out your mother was pregnant by him?’

Danny nodded.

Frowning, Ella asked, ‘When did your mother marry
Robert Eland, then?’

‘Soon after Matthew had married Esther and just before
I was born. He was a good few years older than her but
he’d always loved her and he married her to give me a
name. As far as anyone outside Fleethaven Point knows,
I’m
his
son. I thought I was too – for years. He was as
good a father as anyone could hope to have. That’s why
we called young Rob after him.’

‘So that’s what all the family feud is about between
your mother and Gran?’

‘Er, well, there’s a bit more yet.’

‘More!’ Ella’s eyes widened and she sighed with mock
exasperation. ‘Go on, then.’

‘I like to believe that your gran was genuinely fond of
Matthew, but there’s a lot of folks, my mother included,
of course, who think she only married Matthew because
she couldn’t have the tenancy of Brumbys’ Farm in her
own name. Squire Marshall wouldn’t give it to a woman
and when old Sam Brumby died, Esther was in danger of
being homeless again. I’ve heard say that she nursed Sam
at home and that it was only because of her devotion the
poor old boy was able to die in his own home.’ Danny
sighed. ‘I suppose that’s what started all the trouble,
really.’

‘Sam Brumby dying, you mean?’

‘Sort of. When the old man was so ill, Matthew moved
into Brumbys’ Farm to help Esther look after him and keep
the farm going. I don’t doubt, though,’ Danny added and
there was a dry amusement in his voice, ‘that mebbe young
Matthew had his own reasons for doing so.’

They were silent for a few moments, each busy with
their own thoughts.

‘Do you mean,’ she began hesitantly, not wanting to
believe it possible, ‘that my gran only agreed to marry
Matthew so that she could get Brumbys’ Farm?’

Danny wriggled his shoulders uncomfortably. ‘That’s
what folks say, but as I said, I’m not sure I agree with
them. I’ve always admired and respected your gran.’

Ella snorted. ‘You and Rob both.’

He grinned. ‘Aye, they’re great pals.’

‘Used to be, you mean. I’m not so sure now.’

‘I was very bitter against her for a while when Kate and
I found out the truth. If only they’d told us earlier, it would
have saved a lot of heartache.’ There was such anguish in
his voice that Ella slipped her arm through his and hugged
it to her side. Trying to draw his thoughts away from his
unhappy memories, she asked, ‘Where does Grandpa Godfrey
fit into all this then?’

‘Matthew guessed I was his child, not Robert’s, and he
was very bitter with ya gran after that, but then she had ya
mam – Kate.’ His tone softened even when just speaking
her name.

‘With the outbreak of the war in ’fourteen Matthew
volunteered. While he was away ya grandpa happened to
come to the Point, met ya gran and they fell in love.’

Ella gasped. ‘By heck!’ she cried, falling into using Rob’s
favourite expression. ‘She’s a fine one to be so high and
mighty then.’

‘Now, now, don’t go judging her, Ella. Jonathan went
away again, back to the war, and at that time she had no
idea whether he was still alive or not. After the war, it was
Matthew
who came back a broken wreck of a man and
she nursed him back to health. She devoted herself to him
and gave up any hope she might have had of finding
Jonathan again. She’s always had a very strong sense of
duty, ya gran. She’s never shirked from doing what had to
be done.’