The Fleethaven Trilogy

by Margaret Dickinson

  They stared at each other and then together said, ‘The Spit!’

  They were running side by side, over the westerly dunes, across the marsh to the eastern dunes, along the beach and out to the promontory, Rob’s long legs taking him ahead of Ella. He called back, ‘She’s there! I can see her.’

  Breathless, dragging cold air into her lungs, Ella looked up to see the solitary figure, standing at the very end of the sand-bank jutting out into the sea, the water lapping all around her. Her white night-gown flapping round her bare feet, a shawl pulled around her shoulders, Esther stood there motionless, just staring at the water. Rob had slowed his pace so that he did not come upon her suddenly and startle her and Ella was able to catch up with him.

  ‘Gran,’ she said gently, but the breeze whipped away her words and tossed them into the sea. Nearer, she said again, ‘Gran . . .’ but it wasn’t until she touched the old woman’s shoulder, making her jump, that Esther was aware of their presence.

  ‘Gran, whatever . . .?’ Ella began, but Rob touched Ella’s arm and said softly, ‘Be gentle with her Ella. Summat’s caused this. Go easy.’

  Ella put her arm about the thin body and turned Esther round, gently steering her away from the water’s edge and back along the Spit. Still Esther’s gaze was upon the lapping waves, mesmerized by the water.

  ‘He drowned here, y’know,’ she said suddenly and, turning, gripped Rob’s arm in a surprisingly strong grasp for one who had become so frail. ‘Then Kate drowned too. They’ve all gone now. I don’t want to live. I don’t want to go on wi’out him. There’s no one left now he’s gone an all. And Ella too – gone, all gone. I’ve lived too long . . .’ She was staring up at Rob, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Ella was there too.

  ‘Come on, Missus,’ Rob said kindly. ‘Let’s get you home. Ya’ll catch ya death out here.’

  She tried to pull away, tried to turn back towards the water and, afraid she meant to plunge into its depths, the two youngsters clung on to her. Struggling, swaying from side to side on the narrow bank of sand and shingle, in danger any minute of toppling into the water, the three of them staggered back towards the beach. When the sand bank widened out and they reached safety, Ella and Rob glanced at each other with relief.

  ‘Oh, Gran, your feet are bleeding!’

  ‘Come on, Missus,’ Rob said again firmly and, putting one arm under hers and around her back, the other under her knees, he swung her up into his arms and carried her.

  ‘I’ll run ahead and get some bricks into her bed. I keep some in the oven all the time now, for Grandpa . . .’ Her eyes widened. ‘Oh, heck! I didn’t go back in to see to him this morning, what with all this . . .’

  She was running ahead of them, like the wind across the marsh, panting up the dunes, slipping and sliding down amongst the elder trees, sobbing now with relief at having found her gran, but weeping too with the sadness of it all.

  Poor Gran. She had lost her reason. To remember her as she had been and to see her now, like this, was breaking Ella’s heart.

  Wrapping three hot bricks from the oven in the range in pieces of blanket she staggered upstairs with them and put them into Esther’s bed. Downstairs again, she put the kettle on the fire and found, at the back of the cupboard, a bottle of whisky. Vividly, the memory came back of how her grandmother had put whisky in some hot milk to warm her, chilled as she had been when the cold waters of the North Sea had invaded their home.

  At that moment, Rob manoeuvred his way through the door and, without stopping, carried Esther straight upstairs and laid her in the bed. Esther closed her eyes and lay back against the pillows.

  From the other room, they heard Jonathan’s voice. ‘Ella? That you Ella, lass?’

  Ella hurried to the other bedroom and lifted the latch. ‘I’m sorry, Grandpa. It’s all right now, but Gran—’

  ‘Ella! Come here!’ It was Rob shouting from the other room and, fear rising in her throat, Ella rushed back again to see her grandmother struggling to get out of the bed again and Rob valiantly trying to stop her.

  ‘Oh dear. What is the matter with her?’

  ‘Let – me – go,’ Esther was shouting, suddenly amazingly strong again. ‘It’s him – I want to see . . .’

  ‘I think she wants to see your grandpa,’ Rob said, and released his hold. ‘We’d better let her.’

  Ella put her arm about her grandmother. ‘Come on then, Gran. Let’s take you.’

  They went out of the room, across the tiny landing and into the bedroom where Jonathan lay, his eyes turned towards the door. Her white hair dishevelled, her eyes wide, Esther peered, almost fearfully, round the door. Then she stood just staring at him and Ella felt a shudder run through the frail body.

  ‘Esther, my dear. There you are.’ He held out his hand to her.

  Trembling Esther reached out with her own. ‘I thought you were – dead!’ she whispered.

  Ella gasped and above her grandmother’s head she stared back at Rob who had followed them.

  ‘That explains what she was rambling on about,’ he muttered.

  ‘Come on, get in here with me,’ Jonathan was saying, pulling back the bedclothes. ‘This is where you belong.’ With a whimper, like a lost, frightened child, Esther scrambled into the bed and snuggled up to him. She laid her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms about her and stroked her hair. ‘There, there. It’s all right,’ he said, and though he still sounded tired, he was smiling happily.

  Ella, tears blurring her vision, stumbled from the room and quietly pulled the door closed behind her.

  ‘Come on, I reckon I need a drink more than she does.’

  Downstairs in the kitchen, Ella sat at the table, resting her arms on the scrubbed surface, staring into the distance, whilst Rob mashed a cup of tea and tipped a measure of whisky into it.

  ‘I shouldn’t have separated them,’ she said, contrite. ‘I shouldn’t have put her in the other room. She thought I’d done it because he’d died.’

  Rob nodded. ‘Well, he’s a lot better now, isn’t he? Surely, she could move back into her own bed now.’

  Ella nodded, and murmured, ‘It’s the only place she wants to be.’

  When Ella told him what had happened, the doctor said, ‘It must have preyed on her mind as to why you’d moved her. Perhaps she’d been dreaming that he was dead and woke up believing it, became disorientated and wandered off. It wasn’t your fault, my dear. You were only trying to do what you thought was best to give them both some rest.’ The kindly man’s eyes were comforting rather than reproachful. Then he added, ‘I understand the Spit has had special significance for Esther all her life?’

  Rob, standing beside Ella, said, ‘Me dad says she often went out to stand at the very end of it, specially when she was unhappy. It was where her first husband’s body was washed up when he was drowned.’

  ‘Poor woman,’ the doctor murmured as, carrying his medical bag, he followed Ella up the stairs. When she opened the bedroom door and they stepped into the room, it was to see the two old people, still wrapped in each other’s arms, soundly asleep.

  The doctor stood watching them for several moments, observing with his trained, experienced eyes. ‘Tender loving care,’ he murmured softly. ‘I don’t think I’ve anything in here,’ he tapped his bag, ‘to beat that, Ella. Let’s leave them be.’

  Downstairs, he said, ‘I think you should get your grandfather up each day, just into a chair in the bedroom at first. I’ll call again tomorrow and give them both a thorough check. He looks more himself already. He’s a much better colour.’

  ‘And Gran? Will she be all right? I mean . . .’ Ella asked anxiously, ‘. . . her mind?’

  The doctor smiled. ‘I’m sure your grandmother will be fine. She’s still weak and exhausted. Once her husband’s well again, you’ll see, she’ll be back to her old self, ordering everyone about.’

  Ella smiled, wanting desperately to believe him. ‘I never thought I’d be saying it, but I hope so. Oh,
I do hope so.’

  With each day, Ella could see her grandparents improving steadily and, reassured by the kindly doctor who still visited every other day, without being asked to do so, Ella took time to write a long and loving letter to her father and her grandmother in York to explain how things were at home – her pen hesitated over the word but she left it as her first instinct had written it – home at Fleethaven Point.

  Grandpa Godfrey is very ill and weak and Gran cannot cope alone. I rather think she is ill too, possibly just exhausted, but they do need my help.

  She paused in her writing and looked out of the kitchen window across the fields, seeing not, as there should have been, row upon row of neat brown furrows, but uncut corn left to rot, or stubble where Uncle Danny had managed to harvest the field for Esther.

  As soon as they’re better, I’ll make a start, she promised silently, as she bent her head again to begin another letter, this time to her former employers in Lincoln. She wrote apologizing for the swiftness of her departure, explaining the reason, and was surprised to receive by return of post a courteous letter from the man she had thought rather cold and pompous.

  If you should decide to return to office work, please do not hesitate to contact us, when we should be happy to reconsider your employment with ourselves.

  Ella smiled wryly, wondering whether the condescending tone was deliberate or not. Perhaps he could not help writing in that vein. Ella folded away the letter and went out to clean out the grate under the copper in the washhouse.

  ‘Bit late in the day to be starting washing, ain’t it?’

  Ella looked up, her face grey with ash. ‘Hello, Gran, what are you doing out here?’ Esther was still in her night-gown, with a shawl around her shoulders and her feet stuffed into her wellingtons.

  The old woman sniffed. ‘Grannie,’ she said automatically. ‘I’ve spent long enough in me bed. Time I was up and doin’.’

  Ella stood up. ‘About time an’ all!’ She grinned back.

  ‘Less of your cheek, Missy.’ Esther pulled the shawl closer around her shoulders. The fire in the reprimand was missing, and Ella was surprised how sad the realization made her feel.

  Ella dusted her hands and went towards her grandmother. ‘Come on,’ she said gently. ‘Let’s go and find you your clothes and you can get dressed and come and sit downstairs in the kitchen, if you’re feeling better.’

  Mumbling, Esther allowed herself to be taken back into the house and, seated in the Windsor chair beside a now blazing fire in the range, Ella removed her boots.

  ‘There now. I’ll fetch your clothes and you can dress yourself here in front of the fire.’

  ‘Where’s Rob?’

  ‘Oh, he’s out in the fields. There’s no one to see you and I’ll turn my back if you’re bashful,’ Ella teased her gently.

  ‘He’s been staying here, ain’t he?’ The old eyes were suddenly bright with suspicion.

  Ella met her gaze squarely. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Where’s he bin sleeping, then?’

  Ella took a deep breath. ‘Downstairs and before you say anything, Gran, I’ve been upstairs in the little bedroom, so don’t start . . .’

  The smile was tentative at first and then it twitched the corners of the wrinkled mouth and spread, creasing her thin cheeks, spreading up into her green eyes and giving them a glimmer of life. ‘I weren’t going to, lass. I weren’t going to,’ she said softly.

  Ella went to the shelf at the far side of the kitchen and reached down two bowls. Then she ladled a thick soup from the pan on the fire.

  ‘I’m just taking some of this up to Grandpa. I’m going to get him up to sit in a chair for a while this afternoon. Doctor said I could. I don’t want him lying in that bed till he takes root.’ She lifted the tray. ‘And don’t go wandering outside again in your nightie. I’ll bring your clothes down and when you’ve got dressed you can sit there and peel the ’taties for dinner,’ and lapsing deliberately into the dialect so strong in her grandmother’s speech, Ella grinned mischievously and added, ‘Time you were mekin yasen useful, an’ all!’

  ‘None o’ your chelp, Missy!’

  As Ella climbed the stairs, the smile was still on her lips. She let out a sigh of thankfulness: the sparkle was back in Esther Godfrey’s eyes.

  Thirty-Four

  Peggy arrived the following day.

  ‘I couldn’t stay away any longer, Ella. I’ve still got a bit of a cough, but I’m much better. How are they?’

  Ella hugged her aunt. ‘Much better, thank goodness. Oh, but I’m so glad to see you.’

  ‘I could stay a day or two if it would help,’ Peggy offered.

  Ella glanced at Rob. ‘Rob’s staying here with me at the moment.’ Suddenly, she was shy. ‘I couldn’t have managed without him.’

  He laughed, his eyes crinkling with good humour. He winked cheekily at Peggy. ‘At last! She’s finally admitted it.’

  Peggy smiled too. ‘I’m glad you’re here with her, Rob,’ she said, ‘but I take it there’s no room for me.’

  ‘You could stay at our place, Miss Godfrey. Me mam would love to have you.’

  Peggy laughed. ‘Now, now, young Rob. Don’t go making offers on your mother’s behalf before you’ve even asked her.’

  But Rob was right. Rosie was delighted to have Peggy stay a couple of nights with them, though the fact that Rob arranged this and made no mention of moving back home himself now that Esther and Jonathan were improving quite surprised Ella.

  ‘I’ve brought a letter for you from your father,’ Peggy said that first evening, handing a long white envelope to her. ‘He enclosed it in a letter to me saying he was sending it care of me just in case, well, anything awful had happened and would I pass it on to you if everything was all right. He seems a very thoughtful man.’

  Ella nodded and her voice was husky as she answered simply, ‘He is. I have written, but our letters must have crossed in the post.’

  Inside were two letters: the one from her father, as she might have expected, was loving, concerned and supportive and he promised to come to see her at Fleethaven as soon as she sent word that her grandparents were well enough for visitors. The other was from her grandmother Trent, who, though she asked politely after Ella’s grandparents, went on immediately with all the plans she was making for Ella’s return to York. Ella let the pink pages fall on to the table and sat staring at it for a few moments.

  ‘Want you back, do they?’ came Rob’s voice from the other side of the table, and she looked up to see him watching her, a wary, almost defensive look deep in his brown eyes.

  ‘Well, yes, but . . .’

  Before she had time to say any more, he turned swiftly and left the kitchen, banging the back door behind him so violently that the house seemed to shake.

  ‘Now what on earth was that about?’ Peggy remarked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ella murmured slowly, staring towards the door. ‘I really don’t know.’

  ‘There’s no need for you to sleep here any longer, Rob.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Served me usefulness and cast aside like an old shoe, eh?’

  ‘It’s not like that and you know it,’ she began hotly and then she saw his wide grin. ‘Oh, you,’ she said and punched his shoulder.

  ‘Ouch! You don’t half pack a punch for a townie.’

  ‘I’ve been grateful for your help. You know I have. I couldn’t have coped without you . . .’

  ‘Glad you realize it.’

  She began to giggle. ‘But I reckon Gran keeps hopping out of bed several times a night to see that I’m sleeping upstairs and you’re safely downstairs.’

  His eyes widened. ‘Has she said anything?’

  Ella nodded.

  He laughed. ‘Right you are, then. I must admit I’m quite looking forward to getting back to me own bed. That thing in her parlour isn’t as comfortable as it looks.’

  Impulsively, she put out her hand and touched his bare arm. The feel of his skin
beneath her fingers sent such a pulse of longing through her that she blushed and stuttered. ‘I – I mean it, Rob. You’ve been great.’

  He stood close to her, looking into her eyes, his gaze boring into hers as if he would read into its depths. ‘I’ve been glad to help yar gran – and yar grandpa too, of course. You – you must know how I feel about . . .’

  Swiftly, Ella nodded. ‘Oh yes, I know,’ and there was bitterness in her tone as she added, ‘I know exactly how you feel.’

  She turned away and hurried from the room, leaving him to gather his things together. If only it wasn’t always her grandmother he felt so deeply about, she mourned inwardly, choking back tears that threatened suddenly.

  When he came out of the front room, carrying his belongings, she went with him to the hole in the hedge and watched him walk away from her, his bundle of clothes slung over his shoulder.

  Oh, Rob, her heart was crying silently. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. But she made no sound and, whistling, Rob walked on.

  The day Grandpa Godfrey came downstairs for the first time was like Christmas.

  ‘Aah,’ he said, giving a big sigh as he sat down in the Windsor chair at the side of the range, ‘it’s nice to be back in the land of the living.’

  Esther stood beside him, put her hand on his shoulder and kissed the top of his head. ‘You’ll soon be out tinkering with your tractor and doing the ploughing.’

  ‘Oh no, he won’t,’ Ella said. ‘A bit of tinkering, maybe. But the ploughing – oh no!’ Then realizing she might have sounded too harsh, added, ‘Well, not this year anyway. You’re just going to sit and watch me out the window and tell me off when I get the furrows crooked.’

  Esther, still standing with her hand resting on Jonathan’s shoulder, stared at her granddaughter. ‘But I thought, now we’re better, you’d . . .’ she began, and then fell silent.

  ‘What? What did you think?’