The Fleethaven Trilogy (130 page)

‘You finish the milking and tek the cows back to the
field. Me and ya grandpa are going for a walk on the
beach.’

Ella stared after them as, hand in hand, the couple
walked away from her out of the yard, crossed the lane
and disappeared beneath the trees on the sand-dunes. Ella
finished the milking, dealt with the milk and cleaned all
the machines and equipment. Then she drove the six cows
out of the gate, up the lane and into the meadow. Closing
the gate she leant on it watching the cows wander further
into the field and begin tearing at the grass. What a simple
uncomplicated life animals led, she thought. She heard a
miaow behind her and turned to see that Tibby had
followed her and was stepping daintily through the grass
towards her, stopping every few moments to raise his head
to listen. She squatted down and he came to her, rubbing
his head against her knees and arching his back to be
stroked, purring in anticipation.

‘Come on, Tibs,’ she said, picking him up. ‘Let’s go and
find you some milk.’

She carried him a short way down the lane but suddenly
the cat began to struggle. ‘Ouch!’ she cried as his claws
penetrated her thin shirt. She dropped him and the cat,
landing on his feet, ran towards the grass verge near the
sand-dunes. He squatted low and slunk forward, his tail
thrashing wildly. Above him, in the branches of an elder
tree, a bird fluttered.

‘Oh no, you don’t chase birds, m’lad,’ Ella said, and
went to pick him up again. But Tibby, intent on pursuing
his prey, flattened his ears and ran ahead of her under the
trees.

‘Tibby! Come here this minute, you naughty cat!’

Ducking beneath the trees, she followed him. The bird
above them twittered in alarm and fluttered skywards to
safety. Tibby swished his tail in annoyance, then playfully,
he ran ahead of Ella, stopping every so often to look back
at her, and then running again. She emerged at the top of
the dunes, to see him half-way down the other side leading
on to the marsh.

‘Oh, I’m not chasing you any more, you daft animal,’
she said smiling fondly. ‘You can come home when you’re
ready.’

She was about to turn back when she caught sight of
two figures crossing the marsh, their arms about each
other. Her gran and grandpa were walking slowly back
towards home, her head resting on his shoulder. Ella
guessed they had been out to the end of the Spit, her gran’s
favourite spot. Echoing across the marsh, she heard her
grandmother’s laughter; like the laughter of a young girl in
love. She saw them pause, saw her grandfather bend his
head and kiss her grandmother’s upturned face.

Ella turned and stumbled back the way she had come.
She had never felt so lonely in her life.

Rob never came to Brumbys’ Farm now and Ella didn’t
particularly want to seek out Janice Souter. Her only
escape from the never-ending work was the deserted beach.
When she could slip away from the farm, she walked
towards the town where the sands were thronged with
holiday-makers, children building sand-castles, bathers
cavorting in the shallows or swimming further out, their
happy laughter making Ella feel even more alone. She
walked along the sea bank overlooking the beach and leant
on the rail, her gaze scanning the sands.

Then she saw him. Dressed in only a black pair of
swimming trunks, running along in the shallows, feet
pounding, water splashing. Ahead of him ran a girl dressed
in a scanty bathing costume. Every so often, she glanced
back over her shoulder towards him, shrieking with laughter
as he bent, scooped up a handful of water and splashed
her.

It was not Janice, or even a girl she recognized; it was a
visitor, a holiday-maker.

Rob was flirting with the summer girls.

She watched him, his black hair gleaming in the sunlight, the water in silver droplets on his body, muscular
from the heavy farmwork he did with such ease. Lucky,
lucky girl – whoever she was – who now had Rob.

For the past year, they’d been such friends that she had
begun to dare to hope that maybe, just maybe . . . But in a
few moments, all her dreams had been smashed.

Tears clouded Ella’s vision so that the figures blurred.
She turned and walked quickly away, back the way she
had come towards Fleethaven Point. She kept on walking,
right out to the end of the Spit, wishing she could just keep
on walking and never stop, right out into the sea.

She stood at the end of the Spit and looked about her.
The breeze rippled the surface of the sea and ruffled her
hair. She pushed her hands deep into her pockets and
stared out moodily across the wide expanse of water.

Was there no one in the world, she asked herself, who
loved her? She fingered the birthmark on her jaw. If only
she was pretty, perhaps then . . .

She stayed there until, in only her trousers and a thin
shirt, she began to feel chilled. She shivered and turned
away, retracing her steps along the shingle of the narrow
bank of the Spit towards home.

Home! she thought. Huh, that was a laugh. Not even
there was she welcome.

‘And where have you been, Missy?’ was the greeting
when she walked back into the yard.

‘Just for a walk, Gran,’ she said meekly, too distressed
by what she had seen on the beach to have the energy to
argue today. She sighed heavily and asked, ‘What have I
done now?’

‘There’s no need to take that attitude. Go and help yar
grandpa with the milking. All them new-fangled machines
he’s got. I want nowt to do wi’ ’em.’ And Esther stalked
back into the house, her back rigid with disapproval,
though not, for once, directed at Ella.

A little later, above the clatter and whirring of the
milking machines, Ella heard her name being called and
glanced round to see Janice Souter standing in the doorway
of the cowshed. Making sure the machines were operating
correctly and safely for a few moments, she walked
towards the girl and stood leaning against the doorframe.

‘Our Jimmy ses you’re in jankers on bread and water,
El.’

‘Something like that,’ Ella said, and added pointedly,
‘Thought you might have come round sooner. Been too
busy out on someone’s motorbike, have we?’

‘Huh!’ Janice tossed back her long hair. ‘Once or twice,
but he’s got his eyes on the summer girls now. Like all the
lads round here.’ She sniffed. ‘Still, two can play at that
game. There’s some smashing lads down from Leicester.
I’m meeting them tonight. A’ you game?’

Ella stared at her for a moment, then laughed wryly.
‘Even if I was, I’d never get out. Not now.’

‘Couldn’t you climb down a drainpipe or a tree or
summat, like they do in films?’

Ella shrugged. ‘It’s not worth it. I’m in enough trouble
at the moment, without doing anything else.’

‘I don’t know how you put up with it. I don’t know
why you don’t pack your bags and leave. If it was me, I’d
be off.’

‘I’ve been thinking about it,’ Ella murmured.

‘Oh yeah,’ Janice scoffed. ‘I bet!’

Ella’s eyes narrowed as she thought, Don’t you be too
sure, Janice Souter. One day I might do just that. But she
kept the words unspoken; she wasn’t sure how much she
could trust Janice.

‘I heard there’d been a dust-up,’ the other girl was
saying, leaning closer, her eyes gleaming. ‘Between old
Grandma Eland and your gran. What was it all about?’

Ella frowned, remembering again the lashing words. ‘I
honestly don’t know. I – I couldn’t understand it all.’

There was a knowing smirk on Janice’s face. ‘It were
about you and Rob getting too
friendly
, weren’t it?’

‘We weren’t. That’s what’s so unfair. We were only
mucking about, but no one will believe us, specially not
Gran!’

Janice leant closer and now she whispered, ‘Dun’t you
know
why
she got so upset when she thought you and Rob
might be – well – y’know?’

Ella stared at her. Dumbly, she shook her head.

Janice put her mouth closer to Ella’s ear. ‘Ya can’t get
friendly with Rob Eland, not
that
way – not ever. Not with
ya
brother
!’

‘Uncle Danny, are you my father?’

In the yard at Rookery Farm, she stood facing him,
hands on hips, her feet planted apart, unaware that she
was adopting a stance exactly like her grandmother.

The man, coming out of the barn carrying a bale of
straw, gawped at her. He turned pale and dropped the
bale. As if his legs had suddenly given way, he sat down
on it and put his hand to his chest.

‘By ’eck, young ’un, ya dun’t mince words when ya
start, d’ya?’ He looked at her hard. ‘Ya more like her than
you know, Ella.’

‘Who? Gran – or my mum?’ Her words were laced with
an underlying meaning that was not lost on the man in
front of her. She could see that she had shocked him and,
for a moment, she felt a fleeting concern, but she steeled
her heart against compassion.

It was time she had a few answers to all the mystery, to
all the funny remarks that had been floating above her
head for years now; half-spoken sentences left unfinished
when she entered a room and deliberate evasion of her
questions. Bright, perceptive and perhaps adult beyond her
years in the constant company of the two women in her
childhood, her mother and aunt, Ella had been aware of
the atmosphere of mystery, but, as a young girl, she had
been unable to elicit answers from anyone. Now, at
sixteen, and after all the recent quarrels, she was determined to rip away the shroud of secrecy that shadowed
her life. She wanted those answers – now.

‘Well? Are you?’

Slowly, he shook his head and pulled himself up from
the bale as if his limbs were suddenly heavy. He came
towards her, his limp more noticeable than ever, and stood
looking directly into her eyes. He was not a tall man and
Ella’s eyes were almost level with his steady gaze. He put
both his hands on her shoulders, resting them there. He
did not answer her question immediately, but instead
asked, ‘Ya mean you really don’t know, lass? Ya grannie’s
told you nothing about ya mam and me?’

When she shook her head, he seemed to take a deep
breath as if coming to a big decision and said solemnly,
‘No, I’m not ya dad. I might have been, I might well have
been, but we found out just in time.’

‘Found – found out?’

‘I am your blood uncle, Ella. Your mam and me, we –
we were half-brother and -sister.’

She stared at him and for a moment the only sounds in
the farmyard were the hens scratching and complaining.

‘Brother and sister? Then – then me and Rob – we’re
cousins?’

He nodded. ‘Well, half-cousins.’

‘But there’s nothing wrong with cousins marrying, is
there?’ The words were out before she thought to stop
them.

For a moment his expression was almost comical. ‘You
mean you and Rob are . . .’

‘No, no, we’re not.’ She shook her head in denial, pulled
a face and muttered, ‘More’s the pity . . .’

‘Aw, lass, do you like him, I mean, like that?’

She said simply, ‘I love him, Uncle Danny. I think I
always have.’

‘Aw, love.’ He pulled her to him now and held her
close.

Muffled against him, her face hidden, she found it easier
to tell him her secret. ‘This year, I thought we were getting
closer, that maybe in time he might feel the same. But
Gran’s put a stop to that. For ever.’

With her ear pressed against his chest, she could hear
his heart beating and she heard him sigh deep within
himself. As if making up his mind, he eased her away from
him and held her by the shoulders. ‘It’s high time you knew
everything, lass. And if no one else is going to tell you,
then I will. Tomorrow, Ella, you and me are going to take
the day off and go on a little trip.’

‘What about Gran?’

Firmly, he said, ‘I’ll be over to see her tonight. I aren’t
going to do anything behind her back. That’s not my
way.’

‘Oh, heck!’ Ella said and it sounded comical coming
from her lips. ‘I’ll make myself scarce tonight, then.’

‘No,’ Danny said. ‘I want you there. It’s high time that
grandmother of yours heard a few home truths.’

‘I think,’ Ella said slowly, ‘your mother did a bit of that
a few weeks ago.’

‘Obviously not enough,’ he said, grimly determined, and
Ella shuddered to think what was going to happen that
evening.

‘You’ll do no such thing, young Danny!’

They were all standing ranged around the kitchen at
Brumbys’ Farm: her grandmother on one side of the
scrubbed table, Ella, her grandfather and Danny standing
in front of the range.

‘You’re all against me. I never thought you’d turn
against me, Jonathan. Not you. But you’re siding with
them an’ all, aren’t ya?’

‘Esther love, listen.’ The gentle man moved round the
table and put his arms about her. She did not push him
away but held herself stiffly, as if trying to resist him, yet
finding it hard to do so.

‘My dearest love, listen to me. I’m always on your side,
you know that, but I’ve never shirked from telling you
when I think you’re wrong, now have I?’

A ghost of a smile touched her lips, but she remained
silent as he went on. ‘There’s been enough heartache
caused over the years by trying to keep things hidden. Let
the girl know, then maybe she’ll understand better.’

Ella moved towards Esther, reaching out, trying to
bridge the gulf between them. ‘Gran? Please, Gran. I want
to know, to understand. People, even Janice Souter, keep
hinting at things to me, things I don’t understand and –
and that turn out to be untrue anyway.’ She glanced at
Danny for support.

He nodded and said quietly, ‘Janice Souter told Ella
that she and Rob are brother and sister. That’s why I had
to tell her the truth, that part of it anyway.’

‘Janice Souter would,’ Esther muttered. ‘The whole
family’s nowt but gossips.’