The Fleethaven Trilogy (63 page)

‘Dun’t bother ya’sen,’ Danny said. ‘I’ll keep looking till I find another just as big. Hurry up and get better, then we can look together, eh?’

Suddenly, the boarding school was all a horrible nightmare. She was back home and all the days of the rest of her life stretched ahead – with Danny.

Soon Kate was allowed downstairs and with each day she grew stronger. Then came the morning her mother appeared dressed in her best costume with a smart hat perched on the top of her hair.

‘I’m off to Lincoln today, Kate, to give that Miss Denham a piece of my mind.’

‘Oh, Mam, do – do you think you ought?’ Kate quailed at the very thought of her mother standing toe to toe with the enormous, overpowering figure of Miss Denham.

Her mother was smiling down at her, but her green eyes were flashing defiance. She touched Kate’s cheek gently with her fingertips. ‘Dun’t you worry, my love. I’ve never been frightened of anyone in me life – I ain’t likely to start now.’

But Kate was in a state of agitation all day. Her poor stepfather spent the whole time trying to pacify the baby and calm Kate. ‘You needn’t worry about your mother,’ he told her, his lop-sided grin crinkling his eyes. ‘She’s a match for anyone.’

‘You don’t know Miss Denham,’ Kate muttered, and her insides quivered at the mere thought of the woman.

‘I know what might help,’ her stepfather said suddenly. He was obviously trying to think of something he could do to take Kate’s mind off her mother’s trip. He left the kitchen and went through into the living room. Mystified, Kate followed and stood watching as he opened the front of his bureau. He searched beneath a pile of papers.

‘I really must get down to filling in these forms about this year’s crops for your mother. She hates anything to do with officialdom.’ He glanced back over his shoulder, winked at Kate and then continued his search. ‘Ah,’ he said triumphantly, pulling two sheets of writing paper from the heap. ‘Here it is! Right, let’s go back into the kitchen where it’s warmer. I want you to read this letter.’

Back in the kitchen, he told Kate to sit in his chair by the fire and handed her the letter. ‘It’s from my mother,’ Jonathan told her. ‘We received it whilst you were so poorly, but I always intended you should read it when you were stronger.’

Kate unfolded the pages and began to read. The letter was written in a bold flourishing hand and was dated the day of her visit to their home.

Kate raised her head and met her stepfather’s eyes. He nodded as if in answer to her unspoken question. ‘Of course, you were already home by the time we got this letter. In fact, you were home before the telegram arrived.’

‘Telegram?’ This was the first Kate had heard about a telegram.

Jonathan sat down in front of her and took her hands in his. Leaning forward he said, gently, ‘You were very wrong to run away, you know, Katie. You worried my mother and father – and Peg – very much.’

‘How – how did they know?’

‘Miss Ogden went to see them that Sunday evening, just after my mother must have written and posted this letter to us. Miss Ogden thought you might have gone there. The school knew their name and address because you’d been allowed to visit their home. They had the police looking for you all over Lincoln throughout the night.’

‘The – the police?’ Kate felt herself growing red with shame. ‘Oh, Dad, I’m sorry. I – I didn’t think they’d bother to look for me.’

‘Why didn’t you write to us, Katie, and tell us what was going on?’

She hung her head, but now there was no long hair to hide behind. ‘I didn’t think me mam would believe me.’

‘We’d have come to see you,’ he said softly. ‘We both know you would never tell lies. We’d have seen for ourselves,’ his glance flickered towards her shorn hair, ‘how you were being treated. As for whatever else happened, well, if you ever want to tell us . . .’

Kate shook her head. ‘I dun’t want to talk about it. Mebbe some time, but not now.’

‘I understand,’ he said gently.

‘I am sorry, Dad.’ She looked up at him again, tears brimming her eyes.

He smiled at her and ruffled her short hair. ‘We’ll say no more about it. You’re safely home now and that’s all that matters.’

At that moment the baby began to whimper and the whimpers became louder until she was squealing. Jonathan cast a comical look at Kate and went to the cradle to pick Lilian up. Putting her against his shoulder, he patted her back. The baby gave a loud burp and the squealing subsided, but only to a continuous grizzle.

Jonathan nuzzled Lilian’s downy head, ‘Who’s Daddy’s pretty little girl, then?’ he murmured, but Kate’s sharp hearing caught his words and she felt the familiar shaft of jealousy. Jonathan glanced at her and Kate dropped her gaze, afraid that he might read in her eyes the feelings she tried hard, yet failed, to quell.

Jonathan’s deep voice came softly. ‘I hope she grows up to be like you, Kate. You were a lovely little girl when I first met you. Not that you’re not now, of course!’

Kate felt a warm glow spread through her and she raised her face again, the fleeting resentment banished by his affectionate words. ‘How old was I?’

‘Let me see, you’d be about four. A bright little thing you were, always laughing and chattering. Much the same as you are now – at least, as you were before you went to that wretched school,’ he admitted regretfully.

Kate frowned, puzzled. ‘But me dad, me—’ She stopped, changing the words carefully, conscious of the hurt she might inflict upon her beloved stepfather. ‘Me other dad – was here then, wasn’t he?’

‘He was away at the war. I came to Fleethaven Point to see Grannie Harris when I was on sick leave. Let’s think, nineteen-sixteen, it would be. I’d been with her eldest son, Ernie, when he was killed in France and he’d told me all about his home and his family. And about “the Missus at Brumbys’ Farm”. That’s what he called your mother.’

‘So you came to see them?’ Kate watched the expression on her stepfather’s face sober. His eyes took on a faraway look and there was pain in their depths.

‘I came to try to bring the Harrises what comfort I could. And then – I stayed for a while. But of course I had to go back eventually. After the war, your father came back. He was very . . . ill, at first.’

‘I can just remember him,’ Kate said softly. So that was what Danny had meant when he had said Jonathan Godfrey had ‘come back’ after her father had drowned. But it was all still a little hazy. She didn’t quite understand what had happened.

‘Did you and me mam . . .?’

At that moment the back door was flung open and her mother called, ‘I’m back.’ Then she was in the kitchen and the moment for Kate to share further confidences with her stepfather was lost.

He had been quite right; Kate need not have worried. Her mother returned triumphant.

‘Ya didn’t say that to her, Mam, did ya?’ Kate hugged her knees to her chest in delight, imagining the scene as her mother recounted the interview between herself and Miss Denham. Esther Godfrey’s eyes still sparkled with the light of battle as she stood, hands on hips, smiling at her daughter. ‘Indeed I did, Katie. I told her she was an old beezum!’

‘What did she
say
?’ Kate’s question was high-pitched with excitement, while Jonathan smiled indulgently at his wife, ferocious in the defence of her young.

Esther’s grin widened and her eyes twinkled merrily. ‘She said she could see where you got your rebellious streak from, and I said, “Well if there’s many folk like you in the world, she’s going to need it!”’ Her expression softened and she ruffled Kate’s short hair. ‘I’m glad you’ve got a bit of my spirit, lass, even if it does mean we clash now and then.’

‘Did ya get all me things back? All me clothes I left?’

Esther nodded. ‘I left the trunk at the station, though.’

‘I’ll pick it up tomorrow,’ Jonathan promised.

‘Oh.’ Kate knew there was disappointment showing on her face.

‘What is it, love?’ her mother prompted.

Kate glanced from one to the other. ‘Well, just before I left, three of the girls, they’d got summat of mine and – and they wouldn’t give it back . . .’

‘Do you mean this?’ From her coat pocket, Esther drew out the huge whelk shell.

Kate drew in her breath sharply and, tears glistening in her eyes, she reached out with trembling fingers to take the shell once more into her hands. ‘Oh, Mam, thank you. Thank you. Yes, yes, that’s it. The whelk shell Danny gave me. Oh, thank goodness you found it. Was it amongst me things?’

‘You were rambling about a shell when you were ill and when Danny—’ Kate saw her mother glance swiftly at Jonathan and then away again. ‘When Danny came to visit you, he told me all about it. I realized it was . . . important to you.’ Her mother’s voice dropped and she gave the faintest of sighs.

There was a pause and Kate prompted, ‘And?’

Esther was smiling again, ‘When I was taken up to the dormitory to pack your things up, I searched especially for the shell. It wasn’t there. So,’ Esther continued, enjoying the retelling of her tale, ‘I demanded that it be found.’

‘Oh Mam, you didn’t!’ Kate squeaked, but she was laughing with joy at the scene her mother was painting.

‘I did,’ Esther said firmly, and once more her eyes were sparkling. ‘I waited until every girl in your dormitory was fetched from class and made to go through her belongings. And,’ she finished triumphantly, ‘it was found in the chest of drawers belonging to Isobel Cartwright.’

Kate was not surprised and said so. ‘She was one of the three girls who were so horrid.’

‘You can forget all about that dreadful place, Katie love, and all the people in it. You won’t ever have to see any of them again,’ her mother said. ‘You’re safe home with us now. And I – I won’t send you away again.’

Kate bounced up from the chair and hugged her mother. Esther’s arms came tightly around her. Everything was all right – her mother really did love her.

And yes, she was safely home; with her mother, her stepfather – and Danny.

‘M
am – I must go and look at the sea, I Just must!’

‘Well – all right then. But no paddling, mind. I know you, Kate Hilton. Get a bit of winter sunshine and ya reckon ya can act like it’s midsummer!’

Kate grinned at her mother and was rewarded by Esther Godfrey’s wonderful smile. ‘Eh, but it’s good to see you better, love. You’re still a bit thin and pale, though. I dun’t want you taking risks and getting another chill.’

‘I won’t, Mam. Just look how I’m muffled up in this coat and scarf – and a hat!’ she finished scathingly. Kate had never before worn a hat even when it snowed.

‘And don’t sit on the wet sand,’ her mother shouted after her as Kate went through the farm gate and across the lane. She turned back briefly, smiled and waved. She’d never known her mother fuss so much. But then, she realized, she had never been so ill before; always a robust youngster, she had shaken childhood illnesses off quickly.

Kate climbed the dunes through the trees and at the top stood to look across the marsh towards the far dunes and the sea beyond. With a whoop of delight she ran down the slope and began to run across the marsh, delighting in the feel of the spongy turf beneath her feet, the sharp breeze on her cheeks bringing the colour back to them. To her surprise and disgust, her breathing soon became laboured and she was forced to slow down, even to stop for a few moments to regain her breath.

She could no longer run.

She pulled in deep breaths, but it was like trying to breathe in through a feather pillow and there was an ache in her chest. Slowly she threaded her way across the marsh, jumping the meandering streams but having to rest after each exertion. She came to the far dunes and found that she could only climb to the top in three stages, resting twice on the way. But when she gained the beach and saw the sea, it was worth all the effort.

Would she ever run like she used to do? ‘Like the wind’, as Danny used to say with grudging admiration?

Kate walked slowly along the beach. She even felt the cold more now. Hunched into her thick coat, the woollen scarf around her throat and mouth, she trudged miserably back across the marsh towards the cottages at the Point. She knocked on the Elands’ back door and when it opened she found herself enveloped in Beth Eland’s embrace, her face pressed against soft, plump breasts.

‘Oh lovey, it’s so good to see you. How I longed to come and visit you when I heard how ill you was! Ne’er mind, you’re here now. Come in near the fire and let me look at you.’

She drew Kate into her warm kitchen and held her at arm’s length, her soft brown eyes searching Kate’s face. ‘Ya still look pale, Katie. Here, tek ya coat off else ya’ll not feel the benefit when you go out again. Sit down and have some of my scones, fresh out the oven.’

In a moment, Kate was biting into a thickly buttered scone, the crumbs scattering down her pinafore while Beth stood smiling down at her.

Kate looked up at her. ‘Where’s Danny? He’s not been to see me again. He came that once while I was in bed, but he didn’t come no more.’

The smile on the woman’s face faltered a little. ‘Oh – er – well, yes. He’s at work. He – he dun’t get much time, Kate . . .’ her eyes flickered away and she fingered the hem of her apron nervously. Then Mrs Eland’s face brightened as, seeming to change the subject, she said, ‘You sit there, I’ll just nip next door and fetch Grannie Harris. She’ll want to see you . . .’