The River Folk

by Margaret Dickinson

  Her news was greeted with silence. Phyllis’s glance darted from one to another, coming to rest at last upon the newly married couple. ‘And that’s not all,’ she added, and now there was a sly note in her voice. ‘I’ve heard that Ted Oliver . . . You know him, don’t you, Dan? He’s the ferryman at Eastlands?’

  Dan said nothing, but gave a curt nod.

  ‘They say he’s got his feet well and truly under the table with Jack Price. He’s courting Price’s daughter, Susan. ’Course he’s quite a bit older than her, but they say Jack Price is singing his praises to the rooftops.’ Again, she glanced around but, when no one spoke, she got up. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. Enjoy your dinner.’

  Suddenly, Mary Ann’s appetite seemed to have deserted her. She glanced at Dan, fearful that he would notice, but he, too, seemed lost in his own thoughts.

  Thirty-Two

  ‘I’ve got my first cargo. Cement from Hull to be ’livered to Lincoln.’ Dan seized Mary Ann’s hand as if he couldn’t wait to set off. ‘Are you ready, my pretty little mate?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ she said, trying to look as if her excitement matched his, but, inwardly, her heart was plummeting. This was it, then. Today – right this moment, it seemed – she would have to go aboard the ship, which was to be her home. They’d come back to Bessie’s at weekends whenever they could, she knew, but for most of the week they would be travelling up and down the river carrying cargoes this way and that.

  ‘Come on,’ Dan was urging. ‘We must catch the tide.’

  From now on, Mary Ann thought, her life was going to be ruled by the tides, the currents and the wind.

  The ebb tide was running strongly and as soon as they were aboard and had cast off, the current began to take them steadily downriver. From the cabin where she was stowing away their belongings, Mary Ann heard Dan calling her. She climbed the ladder and made her way carefully to him.

  ‘When we get into the Humber, Mary Ann, you’ll have to help me.’ He put his arm around her. ‘You’re my “mate” now.’

  ‘Oh Dan, I can’t. I don’t know what to do.’

  Dan’s arm slipped from her shoulders. ‘You’ll have to, love,’ he said and whilst his tone was still gentle, there was a firmness in it too now. ‘I can’t manage everything on my own. You’ll have to do exactly as I tell you. Look, we’ll take our time going downriver, go with the tide and I’ll show you what you have to do . . .’

  The next few hours were a mesmerism of sails and sheets, rollers, lee boards and bowlines.

  ‘I’ll never learn all that, Dan,’ she said at last, appalled at what he expected of her. Now Dan’s reply was terse. ‘You’ll have to, Mary Ann. Like I said, you’ll have to act as “mate”.’

  She stared at him. ‘I thought when you talked about me being your mate, I thought you meant I was your wife. I didn’t think you meant I had to help sail the boat . . .’

  ‘Ship, Mary Ann. It’s a ship,’ Dan frowned, but she ignored him and gestured vaguely in the direction of the cabin below.

  ‘I knew I’d have to cook and wash, but I didn’t expect . . .’ Her voice trailed away as she glanced helplessly around her. ‘I can’t do all this.’

  She heard Dan sigh heavily and then, though he seemed to have to make a deliberate effort, he put his arms around her. ‘We can’t afford to employ anyone else. At least, not yet. Besides, wives often act as mates.’

  There were only the two of them aboard ship and whilst keels the size of the Maid Mary Ann could normally be handled by a captain and mate, it was not going to be so easy when one of them was a complete novice. The son of a woman who had been born on the river and brought up almost from the time she could walk to help out aboard her father’s vessel, Dan, in his excitement at having his first command, had failed to remember that his new wife was totally ignorant of life on the water.

  When they got into the Humber, somehow Dan managed to heave the sails up with Mary Ann doing exactly what he told her.

  ‘There,’ he said at last, a little breathless but smiling. ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’

  Mary Ann looked down at her hands, roughened and sore with rope burns, and said nothing.

  The wind filled the sails and the ship sped forward.

  ‘Now, you ought to learn how to steer. Come here, Mary Ann.’

  Gingerly, Mary Ann took hold of the carved wooden tiller.

  ‘There,’ Dan said, ‘just get the feel of it.’ He put his hand over hers and guided her to move the tiller to the right, then to the left, so that she could see in which direction the ship responded. ‘See,’ he said, ‘nothing to it.’ But Mary Ann could detect that the confidence he was trying to exude was forced.

  ‘See that tall building on the far bank?’ he said. ‘Now, try to keep that in line with the bow of the ship.’

  Mary Ann, biting her lip with concentration and with the wind from behind them blowing her hair across her face, only nodded.

  That first trip to Hull was a near-disaster.

  The first time Dan decided to change tack, Mary Ann went for’ard and waited for his commands.

  ‘Stand by,’ she heard him shout above the noise of the wind in the sails and the lapping water. Tensing herself against the motion of the ship, she saw him making ready, saw him push the tiller hard over to port and then release one of the ropes on the same side. She heard the rattle as he released the starboard lee board, but when she heard his command, ‘Rise ya tack,’ instead of operating the tack roller as he had shown her, she released the bowline.

  Too late, she heard his bellow, ‘No, no, Mary Ann . . .’

  The sail flapped and for a moment the ship rocked and Mary Ann knew she had done something wrong, but could not, for the life of her, remember what.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ she screamed, tears blinding her as she fought to keep her balance.

  He came to her and, for a moment, held her close. ‘It’s all right, it’s all right. We’ll just let the ship come around and we’ll try again.’ Patiently, he explained again that she should not release the bowline until he commanded ‘Let go’.

  ‘I feel sick,’ Mary Ann wailed. ‘Take me home, Dan. Please, take me home. Take me back to Auntie Bessie.’

  Dan took her by the shoulders and held her firmly. ‘Now look, Mary Ann, we’ve got to do this together. You have to try again . . .’

  By the time they reached the safety of the port of Hull, Dan was trembling with exhaustion and Mary Ann was crying hysterically. ‘I hate it. I’m never coming with you again.’

  ‘That was nothing,’ he shouted back, fear at what might have happened snapping his patience. ‘What do you think it would have been like if there’d been a real gale blowing?’

  ‘Oh,’ she wailed. ‘I hate you, Dan Ruddick.’ She flung herself away from him and almost fell down the ladder into the cabin, where she scrambled into the bed and buried her face in the pillow.

  She heard him follow her down and then felt his touch on her shoulder.

  ‘Don’t cry, love,’ he said wearily, the anger gone from his tone now. ‘It’s not your fault. I should have realized. Mary Ann, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.’

  She sniffed, but turned over and sat up, facing him with red and swollen eyes. ‘What are we going to do? How are we going to get home again?’

  Dan sat down and rested his arm on the table. ‘I’m going to send a telegram home and ask Dad, or Duggie, to come to Hull on the train.’

  ‘What are you going to put? “Mary Ann useless. Send help”?’

  Dan actually laughed as he said, ‘Something like that,’ and then added swiftly as he saw her tears begin again, ‘No, no, I’m only joking. I’ll think of something.’

  What he did put Mary Ann never knew, but the following day, whilst the cargo of cement was being loaded at a wharf not far from Hull, Duggie arrived at the station and took a hansom cab to find them.

  ‘I’ve only come to help out, y’know. Just temporary. Just until you get the hang of it, Mar
y Ann,’ he said. She had expected Duggie to tease her, to make fun of her ignorance of life aboard ship, but to her surprise, he did not. ‘Because I’ll soon be getting me apprenticeship at Phillips, y’know.’

  ‘Of course you will, Duggie,’ Dan said, ‘but in the meantime, you can fill in the time helping me.’

  ‘Well, that’s all right then. Just so long as everybody knows.’

  ‘You’ll be all right sleeping in the fo’c’sle cabin, won’t you?’ Dan asked.

  ‘’Course, I will.’ Duggie grinned. ‘Won’t be the first time, will it?’

  ‘Nor the last,’ Dan murmured, but only Mary Ann heard him. Duggie had served with Dan before as mate and there would be no need for words of command to pass between them. Each knew exactly what to do and the ship would be safe in their expert hands.

  Louder, Dan said, ‘Now, Mary Ann’s been busy all morning down in the cabin. We’ll go down and see what she’s been cooking up, eh? We’ll have a bit of dinner and then we can be away on the afternoon tide.’

  ‘We’ll need a tow up to Torksey,’ Duggie said. ‘But if the wind’s fair we should be all right once we get into the Fossdyke.’

  ‘How are we going to get towed?’ Mary Ann asked, her curiosity overcoming her wish not to be involved with the sailing of the ship at all.

  ‘Sam Bryce runs a daily service with his tugs from Hull all the way to Newark and all points in between,’ Duggie explained to her.

  ‘Right,’ Dan said, climbing down the ladder into the stern cabin, with Duggie following. ‘I’ll see to it. But first things first. Me stomach feels as if me throat’s been cut.’

  Mary Ann went down after them. As she stepped off the last rung and turned to face them, it was to find them both looking at the cold grate in the stove and then at the table on which were three empty plates and, in the centre, a plate of sandwiches.

  Dan lifted the edge of one and then turned to Mary Ann in horror. ‘Cold fat bacon sandwiches?’ he said, unable to keep the disgust from his tone. ‘And not even the kettle on for a mug of tea. What on earth have you been doing all the morning, Mary Ann? I thought at least you’d have made us a nice hot stew in the beef kettle.’ Before she could answer, Dan caught sight of the piece of embroidery Mary Ann had been working on. He picked it up and thrust it towards her. ‘Is this what you call work? Sitting sewing all the morning?’

  Easy tears filled Mary Ann’s eyes. ‘I . . . I didn’t know how to light the fire. I couldn’t find . . .’

  ‘There’s sticks and paper and coal in the locker there.’ Dan pointed to the coal locker on the portside of the cabin. ‘You could have asked. Duggie hasn’t had a bite to eat since leaving home this morning.’

  Mary Ann stared at Dan as he ranted on. She had never seen him so angry. Where was her kind, understanding husband? Her own temper flared. ‘I can’t cook on that silly little stove.’

  ‘Plenty of women do,’ Dan thundered, his rage filling the cabin. ‘My mam’s taught you to cook, hasn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, but in her kitchen range. Not on that – that thing.’

  ‘It’s perfectly adequate. My grandmother cooked for her whole family on just such a stove.’

  ‘Look, it’s all right,’ Duggie interrupted. ‘Mam packed me some grub up and I ate it on the train. And you’ll soon get the hang of it, Mary Ann. Look, Dan, let’s eat these sandwiches then you go and arrange about a tow and I’ll show Mary Ann how to light the fire and she can cook us a meal for tonight.’ He looked from one to the other, his good humour and sensible suggestions lightening the atmosphere.

  Dan, still glowering, sat down. He picked up a sandwich and ate it in two mouthfuls as if to say, ‘Hardly a man’s meal, is it?’

  Duggie sat on the other side of the table, munching happily and looking around the cabin.

  ‘Snug as a bug in a rug, down here, aren’t you? They’ve fitted it out nice, haven’t they . . .?’ Duggie prattled on saying nothing in particular and yet keeping up a constant chatter to which neither Dan nor Mary Ann replied.

  When he had finished eating, Dan rose and climbed the ladder on to the deck.

  ‘Right, then,’ Duggie winked at her. ‘Let’s get this fire lit.’ He leant towards her and, in a conspiratorial whisper, added, ‘It’ll be all right, love. It must all be very strange for you. And old Dan, well, he’s got a lot on his mind. It’s a big responsibility, being a captain, you know. Just take no notice of him. I’ll help you get a meal started, an’ all, and you’ll soon get the hang of it.’ He winked at her again, patted the bed and said saucily, ‘You just give him a cuddle when you get him into this bunk tonight and he’ll be all right.’

  For the first time since they had left Elsborough, Mary Ann smiled. Suddenly, she threw her arms around Duggie’s neck and kissed his cheek. ‘Oh Duggie,’ she said. ‘You are good to me.’

  Embarrassed, Duggie released her arms and gently pushed her from him. He laughed, trying to make a joke of her action. ‘Give over, Mary Ann, you’re a married woman now.’

  Mary Ann put her head on one side, her cheeks dimpling prettily. Coyly, she said, ‘And you’re my brother now, so I’m allowed to kiss you.’

  ‘Come on,’ he said again, deliberately changing the subject. ‘Let’s get this fire lit.’

  ‘Are we going home now?’ Mary Ann asked when the cement in bags had been put ashore by the Maid Mary Ann’s derrick, straight on to the drays belonging to the builder who had bought the whole shipment. They had passed Elsborough on their way upriver to Lincoln and Mary Ann had sulked because Dan had refused to let her off the ship to go home to Bessie.

  ‘Not yet,’ Dan said. ‘We’re going further upriver, almost to Newark, for a load of Trent gravel.’

  ‘Oh.’ Mary Ann turned away before he could see the disappointment on her face.

  ‘But we’ll be home on Saturday,’ he promised. ‘And then you can have a nice hot bath in Mam’s kitchen and see all your friends.’

  Mary Ann held her breath, afraid that somehow he had guessed her thoughts. Oh, it wasn’t the bath she was hankering for, although it would be nice to sink into the tin bath full of deliciously hot water and to smell the scented soap that Bessie shared with her. There was someone Mary Ann wanted to see, even more than she longed to see Bessie again, but her husband was the last person she could tell who that someone was.

  ‘Is it true? Is he really going to marry this . . . this Celia?’

  Mary Ann was standing before Edwina’s desk in her study at the school.

  ‘Oh, my dear.’ Edwina stood up and came around the desk. She put her arms about Mary Ann. ‘You must forget all about him and get on with your own life with Dan.’ She stood back a little, but still clasped Mary Ann by the shoulders. Her steady gaze held Mary Ann’s. ‘Dan’s a fine man.’ Edwina sighed as she added, ‘A far better man than Randolph, I have to admit it, even though he’s my brother. You should be very happy with Dan. He’ll not hurt you.’

  ‘No, I know,’ Mary Ann whispered, sorry that she had come here now on an impulse that had made her take a detour from shopping for supplies in the town before returning to the ship. She had thought that she could perhaps talk to Miss Edwina. Although she could talk to Bessie about anything else, it was impossible to confide in her mother-in-law about her memories of Randolph Marsh.

  ‘I was so happy for you when I heard you were to marry Dan Ruddick. I thought – well – that whatever had happened between you and Randolph had been just an infatuation. You’re not the first young girl to fall for his flattery.’ Her mouth was tight as she muttered, ‘I wish I could say that you would be the last, since he is to be married at the end of this month, but if I’m honest, I can’t even say that.’ Edwina sighed and let her hands fall from Mary Ann’s shoulders. ‘Forget about him, my dear. Get on with your life with Dan and be happy. That’s all we want for you. That you should be happy.’

  Mary Ann lifted her chin and smiled, knowing now that she must never again speak of Randolph in this way to Ed
wina. Oh, she would continue to see Miss Edwina, for she loved her dearly, and she could perhaps ask after him in a casual manner, just like anyone would ask after her brother. But never again must she speak aloud her secret thoughts of Randolph.

  ‘I will,’ she said bravely, hiding the despair she was feeling inside. ‘And can you keep a secret?’

  She saw the wariness in Edwina’s eyes as the young woman nodded.

  Mary Ann’s smile broadened as she said, ‘I think I’m going to have a baby.’

  For a moment, fear and disbelief clouded Edwina’s eyes. She swayed a little and caught hold of the edge of the desk for support as she gasped, ‘Oh no.’

  ‘It’s all right, miss,’ Mary Ann took hold of her arm gently and led her to a chair. ‘It’s all right. Really, it is.’ She leant over her and, looking straight into Edwina’s eyes, she said softly, ‘It is Dan’s baby, I promise you.’

  For a moment, Edwina gazed into her eyes, desperately trying to see if she was telling the truth. Mary Ann couldn’t blame Miss Edwina for doubting her. In the past she had told lies when it suited her, had even stolen from Miss Edwina. And only Mary Ann knew how many times she had pinched fruit and cakes from the market stalls in the town when she had been hungry as a child. No, Mary Ann could not blame her. But for once, she was telling the truth. The child she was carrying was indeed Dan Ruddick’s.

  Though in her heart of hearts, how Mary Ann wished it was not.

  Thirty-Three

  ‘I’m going to be a grandma. Oh Bert, do you hear that?’

  A month later, Mary Ann’s suspicions were confirmed by the doctor.

  Bert smiled and winked at Mary Ann. ‘I hear, my angel. I hear.’ He put his arms about his wife. ‘But you don’t look old enough, light of my life. No one will ever believe you.’

  ‘Oh, go on with you,’ Bessie said, smacking him playfully, her smile so wide, Mary Ann thought, you could tie it at the back of her head. ‘And you’re going to be a grandpa, Bert. How shall you like that, eh?’

  ‘I shall like it very well. Very well, indeed. When is it due, Mary Ann?’