by Val Wood
‘If you like, tonight after supper, I’ll tell you all about it. About crossing ’Pyrenees on a mule and who I met.’
Delia nodded but looked anxious and started to clear away the dishes.
‘Your gran says that I must take you for a walk to ’river this morning, Rosa.’ Matthew beamed at her – he seemed so elated. ‘She’s most insistent so we’d better humour her!’
‘Aye,’ Mrs Jennings called, having heard their chatter. ‘Go now. Don’t delay. ’Tide’ll be turning.’
‘That’s what I want to do, more than anything,’ Rosa said softly. ‘To look at the Humber. I’ve missed it so much.’
Delia sat down at the table after Rosa and Matthew had gone out and pensively gazed into space. ‘What’s up, Delia?’ Jim laced up his boots.
‘I was just wondering what it’ll be like now that Rosa’s back.’ She pressed her lips together. ‘There’ll be three women in ’house and it’s not as if Gran Jennings is our ma or that Rosa is my sister! Not a proper sister. I don’t know how it’ll work out.’ She put her hand over her mouth and her eyes were filled with anxiety.
‘Listen,’ Jim said softly and leant towards her. ‘You know that we’ve been doing up Marsh Farm house and that Matthew’s been spending a deal o’ time there?’
She nodded and bit on her lip as he continued. ‘Well, we’ve had tenancy changed over. I’m going to run Home Farm and Matthew’s got Marsh. There were too many memories there for me ever to make a go of it, but we didn’t want to lose it and Matthew said he’d like to have it. Now,’ he lowered his voice. ‘I reckon that Matthew will ask for her – Rosa, I mean – and if she’ll have him, then they’ll go to live at Marsh Farm and you and me’ll stop here.’
‘But I’m no housekeeper,’ she moaned. ‘You know I’m not!’
‘I know that you’re better now, under Gran Jennings’s instructions, than you were twelve months ago.’
She conceded that that was true and he went on, ‘So, if Rosa accepts our Matthew, then you and me and Gran Jennings’ll stop here.’ He patted her hand. ‘And she’ll mek you into a good cook and one day some young chap’ll come along and see your bonny face, and when he finds out you can cook and bake and keep house as well, why, then he’ll carry you off and I’ll onny have Gran Jennings to look after me!’
She started to smile in spite of her misgivings. ‘But what if somebody should tell about me – and my babby,’ she sniffled. ‘Nobody would want me then if they find out.’
‘Find out?’ he said firmly. ‘No! We’ll have none of that. We’ll be honest and straightforward and say what happened. We’ll have no more secrets. Everything will be above board from now on. You’ll tell of how you made a mistake and if this fellow that you might meet has owt about him and loves you truly, then he’ll still want you anyway – and if he doesn’t, then he’s not welcome here.’
Rosa peered into the ditches as they walked. The primroses were in bloom, as were the cowslips. Water speedwell and forget-me-not had opened their blue flowers and water mint was creeping along the sides of the ditch and bending rounded heads towards the water. There was a promise of summer in the sweet smell of blackthorn blossom and cow parsley, the sound of warblers in the hedges and the warm aroma of sheep and horses.
‘Spain was so vivid, so colourful.’ She bent to pick a buttercup and the single braid, which she had plaited as she used to, swung over her shoulder. ‘But I missed the delicate colours of English flowers.’ She put the yellow flower beneath Matthew’s chin and smiled at the golden reflection on his skin. She linked her arm through his as they walked. ‘My father’s family live in a small village in the mountains. It took three days to get there from Zaragoza, travelling by mule and donkey. We climbed to a high plateau and the village was surrounded by trees. My first feelings were that I was totally hemmed in. I had no feeling of space and of course there was no river, only mountain streams.
‘All of the family had come to meet me, for Mr and Mrs Bennett’s son had kindly sent a message to them from his home in Zaragoza. He and his new wife travelled with me and acted as interpreters. My father’s brothers and sisters and their children – my cousins! – oh, so many of them, all came to my grandmother’s—’ She smiled. ‘My Spanish grandmother’s house to meet me.
‘My father’s younger brother, the eleventh child, was only eleven months younger than my father and apparently was the most like him, they were almost like twins seemingly. He was olive-skinned and always smiling; his hair was black, his teeth very white, his eyes dark and merry and he wore a gold earring. I have a picture now in my head of how my father might have looked.’
Matthew had stayed silent as she was speaking, for this was the first time she had talked of her new family and he wanted it to unfold as and when she was ready.
‘My grandmother, who of course couldn’t speak English and neither could I speak her language, on meeting me for the first time, beckoned me to sit beside her. She stroked my face and loosened my braid and brushed out my hair, smoothing it with her fingers and murmuring something, I knew not what, and then she pinned a flower in my hair. When I asked Mr Bennett what she was saying, he said that she called me her English princess who had come home to her.’
They were approaching the river and Matthew took her hand to help her up the embankment to stand on the top. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath to absorb the salty scents of the estuary and gave out a great sigh. Then she looked up-and downriver. The Dutch fluyt was moored just off Stone Creek. ‘The ship is here again,’ she said in surprise. ‘I wonder why? Shall we walk down there?’
‘I meant to tell you,’ he said, as they turned in the direction of the creek. ‘Your gran has had a visitor. Seamus Byrne came to see her.’
‘Seamus?’ she said. ‘He came back? But why would he go to see Gran?’
‘Everybody else was out, your gran was the only one at home. He wanted to find out where his brother was buried and he was so grateful when she told him that we had attended his funeral. That we had forgiven him. He broke down and cried, she said, and told her that his brother hadn’t been wicked, but that his mind had turned when he was in prison. He also said that when John Byrne was a young man, he had admired your father above all others.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she began. ‘I would have liked to have seen him. My last memories of Seamus were not good.’
‘Well,’ he said, ‘Seamus told Gran Jennings that he’d bought shares in a ship and was working from Holland, but legitimately now. He’s turned over a new leaf apparently.’
She laughed. ‘I’m not sure if I can believe that!’
As they approached Stone Creek they could see the ship out in deep water. The light was good and they saw that the hull was freshly painted and the name too on the side of the old ship was newly outlined in red. The Rosa Maria.
Rosa gave a deep sigh. For it to be here now, just as she had returned, seemed incredible. There were men moving about on board and preparing to sail. Other seamen were up on the yardarms and jib booms. One man on deck seemed to be giving orders, and Rosa narrowed her eyes for she saw him raise an arm in their direction.
‘His build looks rather like—’ she began.
‘It is!’ Matthew answered.
‘Seamus?’ She was astonished. ‘Has he bought shares in my father’s old ship, the Rosa Maria?’
‘Seemingly so. He wanted to know when you were coming back and although Gran Jennings couldn’t tell him exactly, he said to her that he would wait as long as he could.’
‘I wonder why?’ she said curiously.
‘We were all waiting for you, Rosa,’ Matthew said softly. ‘And me more than anybody. I was so full of black despair when you first went away. I didn’t know how I would survive, I missed you so much.’
She turned her eyes away from the ship and looked at him. ‘Whilst I was in Spain, my grandmother asked if I would stay with them in their village and make my home there. They had a lovely house, the largest in the
village, though it wasn’t a castle,’ she added with a smile.
‘But I said that I couldn’t as someone was waiting for me at home. Someone whose love was as enduring and constant as the river which ran by our land was constant in its ebb and flow.’ She touched his face with her fingers. ‘That someone who, when he kissed me goodbye, had kissed my heart awake.’
He bent towards her and she lifted her lips to meet his. The sound of a faint cheer came from the Rosa Maria and they both turned and laughed as they saw the seamen on deck waving to them.
‘I’ve brought you something back,’ she said, and put her hand into her skirt pocket. ‘It matches one that was my mother’s.’ She took out a small box and gave it to him.
Carefully he opened it and lifted the white silk which covered a plain gold ring.
‘It’s Spanish gold,’ she said. ‘It once belonged to my grandfather. He left it to be given to his son, Decimus Miguel, my father, if ever he should return to Spain, and my grandmother wanted me to have it in his stead.
‘I said that I would love to accept it if I could give it to my special person, as I already have one which my father had given to my mother.’
They put their arms around each other and Matthew kissed the top of her head and she knew that she had never felt such happiness.
‘All hands on deck.’ The call carried on the wind. The seamen were running the rigging and adjusting the yards and sails. ‘Cast off!’ They heard the rattle of the capstan and the anchor cables as the anchor was hauled aboard. Then a command rang out but they couldn’t catch what it was. The red flag with the white circle was hauled down from the topgallant mast and another hoisted. It was white and ragged at the edges but it fluttered in the breeze which was always brisk and frolicsome by the river, and clearly showed the red rose in the centre.
‘Make sail!’ The sails unfurled and began to fill and the sun shone on them, turning them to pale gold. Rosa and Matthew watched in silence as the stately old ship’s timbers creaked and groaned and its canvas thundered. ‘Stand by!’
The Rosa Maria began to gather way and commence its voyage towards the tip of Spurn and the Humber mouth and the open sea. Rosa held her breath for a brief moment and felt a poignant, wistful emotion. Matthew gazed down at her and she smiled, then together they lifted their arms and waved a final goodbye.
THE END
About the Author
Valerie Wood was born in Yorkshire, where she still lives. Her first novel, The Hungry Tide, was the first winner of the Catherine Cookson Prize for Fiction.
For more information on Val Wood and her books, see her website at www.valeriewood.co.uk
Also by Val Wood
THE HUNGRY TIDE
ANNIE
CHILDREN OF THE TIDE
THE ROMANY GIRL
EMILY
GOING HOME
ROSA’S ISLAND
THE DOORSTEP GIRLS
FAR FROM HOME
THE KITCHEN MAID
THE SONGBIRD
NOBODY’S CHILD
FALLEN ANGELS
THE LONG WALK HOME
RICH GIRL, POOR GIRL
HOMECOMING GIRLS
and published by Corgi Books
TRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS
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ROSA’S ISLAND
A CORGI BOOK : 9780552148467
Version 1.0 Epub ISBN: 9781448110759
First published in Great Britain
in 2001 by Bantam Press
an imprint of Transworld Publishers
Corgi edition published 2002
Copyright © Valerie Wood 2001
Val Wood has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
In this work of fiction, the characters, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or they are used entirely fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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