The Fleethaven Trilogy (134 page)

I expect Lincolnshire is looking a little wintry at
the moment – no fields of rippling ripe corn. My
current driver is not nearly so efficient at changing a
wheel in the dark
.

I have written twice before, but have not had a
reply from you. Perhaps you did not get the letters
.

Kate, we must meet. I shall be attending a big
meeting in Grantham the week after next. If you’re
still the new CO’s driver, you should be bringing
him . . . We could meet on the Wednesday about
four, at the station, if you could manage it
.

There was nothing in the letter to give any real clues
and to Ella’s acute disappointment there was not even a
name at the end. She knew there had been a lot of difficulty
in writing letters in wartime, particularly perhaps for
servicemen, but he might have put his name, she thought
crossly.

It was the only one from the mystery man; the others
were from people she knew. One was from Grandpa to
Kate, written to her at the Suddaby station and enclosing
another from Aunty Peggy and both letters were dated a
few months before Ella’s birth.

Her grandfather’s letter was short, a mere two lines.

I think, my dear, that the enclosed letter will be the
answer for you, at least for the time being
. . .

The answer to what?

Ella began to read Peggy’s letter,

My dear Jonathan,

Of course Kate can come back to us. We should
love to have her – it will be like old times – and she
would be company for Mother, who, although still
lively in her mind, is increasingly confined to the
house and, indeed, to her sofa. As you know, since
Father died, Mother has slept downstairs in the
living room and so Kate, and her little one when it
arrives, could have Mother’s bedroom upstairs. I’m
still in my own room anyway, so it won’t be putting
us about at all! And there’s still the tiny bedroom
Kate had before, when the little one gets older
. . .

Ella laid down the letter. So, that was how she had
come to be born in Lincoln and why they had continued to
live with Aunty Peggy, Jonathan’s sister. She read a paragraph
again. What did it mean ‘Kate can come back to us’?
She didn’t understand that bit at all. She would have to
ask . . . Oh no, she told herself firmly, you can’t ask Gran.
Now she knew the whole story, or at least most of it, she
could sense even from these sparse letters that Kate had
gone to live with Peggy because her own mother, Esther,
would not have Kate, pregnant and unmarried, at home.
Esther Godfrey had turned out her own daughter. That
must have been ‘the answer’ Jonathan referred to; the
answer to a problem and a problem caused by her grandmother.
That much, at least, Ella could deduce.

In the flickering light from the candles, Ella’s mind
drifted back to the very first moment she had met her
grandmother. What was it she had said? Oh, yes, she
remembered now the harsh words between her mother and
grandmother.

‘I told you ten years ago I didn’t want you here, or ya
bastard, and I still don’t. Nothing’s changed.’

And then Kate’s forlorn words, ‘Can’t you ever forget
anything or forgive anyone, Mam?’

Remembering the moment vividly now, Ella could hear
their voices in her mind. At last she understood all the
resentment and bitterness that lay behind the words. Her
mother had not only been referring to the continuing feud
between Esther and Beth Eland, but to the unforgiving
treatment she herself had received from Esther.

Beneath the letters there were two or three photographs
of her mother in uniform. One intrigued Ella; it was of her
mother standing beside a huge car with bulbous headlamps
covered over and leaving only a slit for the light to shine
through. She was holding open the back door of the car
and beside her stood a tall man in an officer’s uniform.
Holding it close to the uncertain light from the candle, Ella
strained to see the man in the picture. Her heart began to
beat rapidly as she realized that this just might be the first
time she had ever seen her father.

There was, of course, only one person she could talk to
about the things she had found.

All through the following day as she went about the
jobs her grandmother had set her, Ella turned over in her
mind everything she wanted to ask Uncle Danny and how
she should put it to be tactful. But by the time she was free
to squeeze through the hole in the hedge and run across
the newly cut fields, the sharp stubble crunching under her
feet, towards Rookery Farm, all her carefully formed plans
were blown away in her eagerness.

Clasped in her hand was something she wanted to show
him. As she climbed over the stile and jumped down into
the lane near the farm, she heard the familiar roar of the
engine of Rob’s motorbike revving up in the yard. Her
heart gave a leap in her chest and she began to run. The
bike came sweeping out of the yard, banking over to the
left and as it gathered speed past Ella, he raised his hand in
greeting but made no attempt to slow down. Ella stared
after him as the bike reached the end of the lane.

Off to see the summer girls, she thought bitterly. Now
he won’t even stop to speak to me.

But at the junction, Rob turned his motorcycle full circle
and came back towards her, pulling up beside her and,
cutting the engine, he balanced the machine with his toes
touching the ground on either side.

‘You all right, El?’

She returned his steady gaze. Today there was no merry
grin stretched across his mouth, no teasing laughter, but
she could see the concern in his deep brown eyes.

‘Why’ve you been ignoring me?’

He wriggled his shoulders in embarrassment. ‘I thought
it best. I didn’t want to mek ya grannie any madder.’

A spark of resentment flared. ‘I see. More bothered
about what Gran will say than about me.’

‘No – yes – I mean . . .’ He was floundering but Ella
was in no mood to help him. ‘I thought it’d only make
things worse for you. I hoped if I stayed away a bit it might
all blow over.’

‘Blow over?’ She snorted. ‘No chance!’

‘Well, I don’t think you an’ me dad have helped by
going off on your little trip, digging up the past. You’re
only hurting her more.’

So, she thought, she wasn’t the only one who now knew
all the secrets. Danny must have told Rob everything too.

‘It was their lives, El. It’s all so long ago. It doesn’t
make any difference to us, now does it? Ya gran would
have come round if you’d given her time.’

Suddenly she felt more sad than angry. He didn’t
understand how she felt, how everything that had happened
in her grandmother’s life, in her mother’s life, did
indeed still overshadow Ella’s own.

‘Perhaps it doesn’t really affect you, Rob,’ she told him
quietly, ‘but there’s still things I have to know.’

She thought she saw the hurt in his eyes, but it was so
fleeting that afterwards she wondered if she had imagined
it. He stared at her for a moment, a slight frown creasing
his forehead. Then looking away, he shrugged. ‘Well, it’s
up to you . . .’ He bent forward, twisted a lever and then
stamped on the kickstart. The engine noise filled the air,
making any more conversation impossible. He wheeled the
bike round and, mouthing, ‘See ya . . .’ at her, he set off
down the lane once more, this time turning left at the end,
and roared along the coast road towards the town.

Her gaze followed his speeding shape as far as she could
see and even when he had disappeared from her view, she
could still hear the sound of him.

Her eyes filled with tears but she brushed them aside
angrily with the back of her hand and marched with fresh
determination towards the gate of Rookery Farm. As she
went into the yard, Danny came out of the milking shed.
‘Hello, young Ella. You’ve just missed him. Gone to the
pictures, I think. Do you want to go with him? I could run
you into town if you like.’

‘No!’ Her tone was sharper than she had intended. Then
she added swiftly as an excuse, ‘No thanks, Uncle Danny.
I’m not allowed out.’

He sighed. ‘I thought ya gran might have calmed down
a bit.’

The girl shrugged her shoulders. ‘She’s still mad about
our trip out yesterday.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make matters worse.’

‘I don’t think you could,’ she said wryly. ‘Anyway, can
you spare a minute?’

‘Of course.’ He paused and then added softly, ‘More
questions is it, lass?’

She held out her hand. ‘Uncle Danny, do you know why
Mum would keep this?’

On her open palm lay the large whelk shell; a simple
seashore shell, unusual, perhaps, in its size but an ordinary
shell none the less, and Ella was totally unprepared for the
extraordinary response it evoked in the man who stood
looking down at it, mesmerized.

‘Where . . .?’ he began, his voice hoarse, and she was
shocked to see sudden tears in his eyes. ‘Now would you
believe that?’ he murmured, more to himself than to Ella.
‘Fancy her keeping that all these years.’

He picked up the shell and held it tenderly, looking
back down the years, remembering. ‘We were only a couple
o’ kids when I gave her this. I’d just left school and she
was being sent away to boarding school.’ He looked up at
Ella. ‘Ya gran was trying to keep us apart even then, but
we didn’t know why.’

‘Was that when she went to Aunty Peggy’s in Lincoln?’

‘Eh? Oh, she met them about that time but she didn’t
go to live with them until later, after we found out that we
were brother and sister.’

‘Then she went back again to live there when she had
me, didn’t she?’

He nodded. ‘Ya gran tell you that?’

Ella shook her head. ‘No, I found some letters and
photographs. Uncle Danny, I think one of the men in
uniform might – just might – be my father.’

Danny was staring at her, then he nodded slowly. ‘It’s
possible. Probable, I suppose, when you think about it.’

‘Uncle Danny, I want to go to Lincoln to see Aunty Peg
and, if I can, Mavis. I want to try to find my father.’

‘Now, hold on a minute, love. You’ll only upset your
gran even more.’

Ella’s chin was determined. ‘Surely she can’t object to
me wanting to find my father?’

He sighed and fingered the whelk shell, his thoughts still
half-way in the past. ‘You might be stirring up more
trouble and disappointment for yourself. What will happen
if your father has a family – children?’

‘I’m his child, too.’

‘How are you going to prove it, though? Have you got
your birth certificate?’

‘I – I found it last night amongst Mum’s papers.’

‘Does it give your father’s name?’

She shook her head, unable to speak. She didn’t want
his reasoning to be right, but she knew it was.

‘And don’t forget,’ Danny said gently, not wanting to
say the words but knowing he must, ‘I don’t think he
knows anything about you.’

Her mouth was now set in a decisive line. ‘Then it’s
high time he did know. It seems as if my poor mum took
all the shame and he got off scot free.’

Danny smiled pensively. ‘Eh, you do sound like ya gran
when ya gets a bee in ya bonnet about summat.’

‘Well?’ Ella said defensively. ‘It’s true, isn’t it?’

He sighed and nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose it is. But just
remember one thing, Ella. Ya mam must have had her
reasons. She loved him very much. That she did tell me.
Maybe she loved him so much that she wanted to, well,
protect him or not cause him pain. I don’t know. As I say,
she didn’t tell me much. But just – well – tread carefully.
Don’t do anything hasty that might be totally against what
ya mam would have wanted.’

She stared at him for a moment, taking in what he had
said, considering it. Slowly, she nodded. ‘I promise I’ll go
carefully, Uncle Danny, but I have to find out
who
he is at
least. I have to.’

‘I can understand that. But supposing he’s still alive?
Supposing you do find him, what then? What if he doesn’t
want to see you, to have anything to do with you? It could
be
you
getting hurt then. Ya mam wouldn’t have wanted
that to happen either.’

‘I won’t get hurt,’ Ella said, and as the picture that still
haunted her dreams, of Rob chasing the summer girls
along the beach, came into her mind, she added, resolutely,
‘Not any more, I won’t.’

Now plans were beginning to formulate in her mind,
but she clamped her jaw tightly shut against the temptation
to share them with Uncle Danny.

This was something she had to do on her own.

When the O level results came out, Rob had just scraped
the grades he needed to go to the farm institute near
Lincoln. And Ella’s results were good enough for her to be
able to choose just whatever she wanted to do: stay on at
school to take A levels and try for university or leave now
and go to college. The other alternative was to get a job in
Lynthorpe, but if she were to suggest that, then she knew
what her grandmother would say at once: ‘Ya needed here,
on the farm.’

Rob came to say goodbye at the end of August. From
her bedroom window, Ella saw him climb the stile and
walk across the stubble towards Brumbys’ Farm; this year
the fields between the farms had grown wheat. At the hole
in the hedge, he paused, hands shoved deep into his
pockets, and glanced up at the house. She stood back from
the window, not wanting him to see her watching him.

Her heart turned over. How handsome he looked, the
open-necked white shirt dazzling against his tanned skin,
his long, lithe body. He seemed to have grown, even,
during this last year and now stood a head taller than his
own father. He seemed to be standing there trying to
decide whether to come through the hedge or not. Black
curly hair ruffled by the wind and with a strange, nervous
look on his face as he had hovered uncertainly near the
hedge, he reminded her so much of the young soldier in
the photograph in her grandmother’s bedroom, about to
go into battle. Then she saw her grandmother come round
into the front garden and walk towards him through the
few trees left in the orchard. Ella watched as Esther
adopted her usual formidable pose: feet planted firmly
apart, hands on hips. Through the open window, her voice
drifted clearly to the watching girl. ‘Well, a’ ya coming
through or aren’t ya?’