The Fleethaven Trilogy (56 page)

‘Peggy works in one of the big stores in the High Street,’ Mrs Godfrey was saying with an obvious note of pride in her voice. ‘She spotted this fabric when it first came in and bought a length.’

Kate’s puzzled glance went from one to the other. Peggy smiled. ‘Mother’s a dressmaker, she made this dress and trimmed the hat.’

Kate gasped. ‘Did you mek them flowers?’ She pointed at the hat.

‘Yes, dear,’ Mrs Godfrey said modestly.

‘They’re lovely,’ Kate said, hardly able to take her eyes from them. Her gaze dropped to the face beneath the hat. Peggy was pretty, Kate thought, with a smooth skin and a well-shaped mouth. And she was kind, like her brother, Jonathan, but sometimes when her face fell into repose and she thought no one was watching her, she seemed, to the observant Kate, to have an air of sadness about her.

Mrs Godfrey was leaning towards Kate, smiling and nodding, ‘When you come to school in Lincoln you’ll have to come and see us and Peggy will take you shopping. There, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’ll love the bustle of the city. There’s always something going on. Not like here . . .’ The woman glanced over her shoulder across the flat farm fields and shivered slightly. ‘Whatever do you find to do here?’ she murmured, then added more briskly, ‘You’ll have such a good time. There’s the shops and the markets and the theatre and the pictures. Peggy will show you around, won’t you, Peg? You’ll love it, Kate, really you will.’

‘Of course you must come and see us, Kate.’ Peggy’s smile was genuine and warm. Dutifully, Kate nodded. Though she knew they meant it kindly, the talk of city life sounded a little frightening. It didn’t make her feel any happier about leaving all the things that were familiar, to go to boarding school.

Not one jot.

When all their guests had departed, Jonathan drove his mother and sister back into town to catch the evening train. As they made their farewells, Mrs Godfrey hugged Kate to her, enfolding her in a waft of flowery perfume.

‘Now, don’t forget. When you come to school in September, your Aunty Peg will come to the school and fetch you to our house for tea one Sunday.’

‘Thank you,’ Kate said politely, and was rewarded by one of her mother’s brilliant smiles. ‘Thank you very much.’

‘Isn’t Aunty Peggy married, Mam?’ Kate asked as they stood at the gate waving at the trap disappearing along the lane.

‘No.’

‘She’s ever so nice, isn’t she?’

‘Well, of course, she would be.’ Esther smiled, putting her arm about Kate’s shoulders as they went back towards the farmhouse. ‘She’s ya dad’s sister.’

Kate giggled inwardly. In her mother’s eyes, any relative of Jonathan’s couldn’t help being nice.

As they went into the scullery, they both heard Lilian’s wailing.

‘Oh, there she goes!’ Esther sighed. ‘And there’s all the pots to wash . . .’

‘I’ll do them, Mam. You go and see to her.’

‘You’re a good girl, Katie, I dun’t know what I’d ’ave done without you today. I’ll just feed her and then I’ll give you a hand.’

Kate stifled a yawn. She was tired, but guessed her mother was even more weary. ‘It’s all right, Mam, I’ll manage.’ She picked up a pile of dirty plates and went through to the deep white sink in the back scullery, while her mother sat in the Windsor chair to feed Lilian. Kate would do anything to escape the sight of the baby guzzling at her mother’s overflowing breast. She would even face the mountain of washing-up single-handed to avoid seeing the tender expression on her mother’s face as she gazed down at the greedy Lilian.

Half an hour later, her stepfather came in through the back door.

‘All on your own, Katie? Where’s your mother?’

‘Upstairs. Lilian won’t settle.’ She set another of her mother’s best cups carefully on the draining-board.

Jonathan picked up a tea-towel and began to dry the pots. He grinned at Kate, the familiar, lopsided smile crinkling his eyes. ‘All the excitement of getting herself christened, I expect.’

There was silence between them, the only sounds being the clatter of china as together they washed and dried it, setting it carefully on the kitchen table for Esther to put away herself in the cabinet in her front parlour.

He was an unusual man, Kate mused. Not many men would help with the household chores the way he did.

‘Babies – little babies – ’ he began hesitantly, ‘are not much fun. She’ll be different when she’s grown a little.’

‘I shan’t be here that much, shall I?’ Kate muttered.

The silence lengthened and she felt he was searching for the right words. ‘Kate, you mustn’t think . . .’

‘At last!’ Esther stepped out of the kitchen into the scullery. ‘I thought she’d never settle!’

Kate saw the glance that passed between her mother and stepfather.

‘You all right, love?’ His blue eyes were full of tender concern.

Her mother moved and stood close to him, reached up and, placing her palms against his chest, kissed him gently on the mouth. Still holding the tea-towel in one hand and a plate in the other, his arms went around her and they stood together, oblivious now of Kate’s presence. Whatever he had been going to say to her had flown from his mind the moment her mother had stepped into the scullery.

Kate bent her head over the soapy washing-up water, her hair falling forward to hide her tears.

*

‘It’s all settled – you start in two weeks’ time.’

Her mother was standing before her dressed in her best costume and pulling off her gloves. ‘I’ve been to Lincoln on the train today and seen the headmistress – Miss Denham. I’m to take you on the Wednesday – the day after the term actually starts. She says that will give everyone else time to have settled back into school.’

Kate felt the colour drain from her face, but no words would come. All she could do was stare at her mother in shock.

But Esther Godfrey, full of her day in the city, of her success with the headmistress of the St Mary’s School for Young Ladies, was not even looking at her daughter. Now she was turning away to talk directly to her husband. ‘Has the baby been all right? It’s a long time to leave her, but I had no choice. It’s a good job I’ve started weaning her.’

‘Did you see Mother and Father?’

‘Yes – I had a nice dinner with them and a long chat with them about the school. They reckon she’ll be fine there, and they’ll take her out on a Sunday afternoon. The headmistress said that was when the girls are allowed out with family or friends. Well chaperoned, of course.’

‘Peg would fetch her. Did you see Peg? Is she all right?’

‘No, she was at work, but I asked after her and she’s fine.’ She paused and Kate saw the mischievous smile curve her mother’s lips. ‘I must say, I like your dad. I reckon he took quite a fancy to me.’ Almost coquettishly, Esther smoothed tendrils of her hair that were escaping from the combs.

Jonathan caught her by the waist and planted a kiss on her mouth. ‘Well, of course he would.’

‘He’s like you, ain’t he? I mean, you’re like him.’

‘I would like to think so. I admire my father – he’s kind and gentle and all his pupils adore him . . .’

‘Is he a teacher?’ Kate butted in, desperately seeking some kind of hope. ‘Will he be there – at the school I’m going to?’

Her mother and stepfather looked round at her, surprise on their faces. They had been so busy planning, deciding her future, that they had forgotten she was even in the room.

Jonathan shook his head, ‘No love. He teaches at a boys’ school. He won’t . . .’

‘Then I won’t go,’ Kate stormed. ‘I won’t!’

She whirled around, rushed out of the kitchen and through the scullery and dragged open the back door. Then she was running – across the yard, out of the gate, across the lane and up the dunes through the trees – ignoring the shouts of her stepfather behind her.

‘Kate! Kate, don’t, love. Please don’t!’

She stayed in the sandy hollow until the sun had sunk behind the dunes, waiting. Waiting for the time when she knew Danny would be home from work. Then she climbed out of the hollow and, taking a diagonal line across the marsh, came out at the back of the line of four cottages at the Point. She could hear shrieks of laughter coming from the stretch of grass in front of the cottages and recognized Rosie’s high-pitched excited chatter organizing her younger brothers in their game. She listened intently. Was Danny there, too?

She moved towards the back door of one of the centre cottages where Danny lived. His mother came out of the little wash-house set at right-angles to the back door and almost dropped the basket of washing she was carrying.

‘Why, Kate! You made me jump.’ Mrs Eland peered closely through the shadows at her. ‘You in bother again, lass?’

Kate shook her head and qualified the negative response by saying, ‘Well, not exactly.’ There was no doubt she would be in trouble for having stayed out so late. ‘Where’s Danny?’

She heard Beth Eland’s soft sigh. ‘He’s with his dad up at the headland. They’re at the boat.’

As Kate turned away, the older woman said, ‘Kate – you – you ought to be finding ya’sen other friends now Danny’s working, y’know.’

Kate stood still. Her heart was pounding in her chest as if she had been running a mile. Oh, no! Not Danny’s mother too! And it wasn’t the first time she’d said as much, either. She turned slowly to stare at Beth. The older woman’s brown eyes were troubled. ‘It’d be – for the best, lovey,’ she added softly.

Was everyone trying to keep her away from Danny? Kate couldn’t believe it. She gave a sob and, turning away, began to run. She did not stop until she reached the point of land where the river widened out into the sea.

‘Danny. Danny!’ she shouted, standing on the grassy headland directly above the muddy river bank. The tide was receding and the Elands’ fishing boat was almost stranded on the mud where Robert Eland had moored it earlier in the afternoon at high tide.

She shaded her eyes against the bright gold of the setting sun, low in the western sky. A shadow moved on the boat. ‘Katie? What you doing here? Summat wrong?’ He clambered over the side and swung his way up the wooden planking of the small jetty that straddled the mud to the boat.

‘What’s up, Katie?’ He peered at her through the gloom and although she could not see the expression in his eyes, she could hear the concern in his voice. It caused a lump in her throat and tears to prickle her eyelids. At least Danny cares, she thought. The words came tumbling from her lips in a jumble, falling over themselves in her eagerness to tell him of her distress.

‘Me mam’s been to Lincoln – to that school – it’s all arranged. I’m to go in two weeks. She’s sending me away!’ The last was on a wail of despair.

He came and stood in front of her. He put his arms about her and she clung to him, burying her face against his shoulder. They stood on the headland, silhouetted against the red gold of the setting sun. She felt his hands, rough and calloused with the heavy work he now did daily, but surprisingly gentle, stroke her hair. ‘Don’t cry, Katie. It’ll be all right. Perhaps you’ll enjoy it when you get there . . .’

‘I won’t!’ Her words were muffled against him but none the less vehement. ‘I’ll hate it! I’ll miss you so much!’

Involuntarily his arms tightened about her. She lifted her face up and tilted her head back and then wound her arms around his neck. They gazed at each other.

‘Katie . . .’ he began, but whatever he had been going to say, the words remained unspoken for at that moment a shout made them both turn to see Kate’s mother, her skirts held high, running towards them. ‘Keep away from her, Danny Eland. Dun’t you lay a finger on her else I’ll . . .’

Kate gasped, shocked to see the rage on her mother’s face. Two spots of vivid colour burned in Esther’s cheeks and her hair was coming loose from its combs and falling down her back.

She reached them and grasped Kate’s arm roughly, jerking her away from Danny.

‘Mam, you’re hurting. Don’t . . .’

‘I’ll hurt you, me girl, if I ever so much as catch you with him again.’

Kate began to struggle against Esther’s grip. This was Danny her mother was talking about; Danny Eland, her lifelong friend.

‘Mam . . .’ she began, but Esther was dragging Kate away from the headland, away from Danny. Kate half-turned back to him, tried to twist out of her mother’s grasp. ‘Danny . . .’ She gave a cry of anguish, but her mother’s hold on her arm only tightened.

He made no move. He was standing on the headland, silhouetted against the burnished evening sky, a lonely, bemused figure, as much at a loss to understand what was happening as Kate herself.

Doors were opening in the cottages and faces peering out as Esther Godfrey hustled her daughter homewards. Grannie Harris and next door to her, Mrs Eland, stepped out on to the grass.

As they drew level, Esther shook her fist. ‘Keep him away from my girl, Beth Eland. Keep ya bastard away. If ya don’t . . .’ She paused to drag in a painful, heaving breath. There was menace in her tone as she added more quietly, ‘If ya don’t – I’ll see he knows the reason why!’

T
he day she had been dreading had arrived.

The summer had passed all too quickly and already it was September. ‘I’ll miss the Harvest Festival and the Harvest Supper at the Grange.’ All her protests were in vain. Her mother was adamant and there was nothing Kate, nor her stepfather, could do about it. Esther Godfrey remained inflexible even in the face of her own father’s wrath. From the kitchen Kate had listened as Will Benson had stood in the doorway of the pantry, whilst Esther churned the butter.

‘The city’s no place for that lass,’ he had railed. ‘She’ll be miserable . . .’

‘She will be if you keep putting the idea into her head,’ her mother had snapped back.

‘But, Esther . . .’

‘No “buts”, Dad. Kate’s going to boarding school for a couple of years and that’s that.’ The handle of the barrel churn flew round under Esther’s angry hand, until they could hear the flip-flop of the thickening butter.

‘Huh.’ Will Benson turned away from the pantry door. ‘Well, I reckon ya’ll regret it, lass. Dun’t say Ah didn’t warn ya.’

‘I won’t,’ Esther said, grimly determined.