The Harbour Girl (18 page)

Jeannie held her breath as Harry appeared to consider. It was a lower position than he was qualified for, but at least it would bring in some much needed money and put food on the table.

‘Well,’ Harry said slowly, ‘I could. I’m doing nowt right now – so, aye, I will! Thanks very much, Mike.’

They took their leave after Harry had been given instructions on times and terms of employment and walked back along the dock. Harry said nothing but kept his arm on her shoulder, until, out of listening distance of Mike Gardiner, he blew out a long breath and gave her a huge squeeze.

‘Phew! Thank God for that.’ He glanced down at her. ‘Telled you, didn’t I, that I knew what I was about?’

‘You did, Harry.’ She smiled, and thought how lucky it was that after a good deal of persuasion he had at last agreed to come down to the dock. ‘You did really well. How lucky that we should see your father’s old friend.’

‘Aye, he’s done well has Mike. If my da had lived, well who knows but he might have been a partner wi’ him. He allus dreamed of having his own ship, or at least shares in one.’ He paused and considered; then, drawing himself up tall, he said, ‘And I’d probably be skipper by now. He’d have seen me right would Da.’

Jeannie squeezed his hand. ‘That he would,’ she said, thinking of Josh Wharton and Ethan and his stepbrother Mark. ‘You’d have worked together. Does Mike Gardiner have any sons?’

‘Aye, he does.’ He gave a laugh. ‘One’s a butcher; the other’s a skipper. Not much older than me.’ Then his mouth turned down. ‘He’s allus had his da there to give him a helping hand.’

‘You’ll be all right, Harry,’ she said reassuringly. ‘Your da would be proud.’

‘Do you think so, Jeannie?’ A frown wrinkled his forehead. ‘Do you reckon he’s watching?’

Jeannie swallowed. If Harry’s da was watching him, then her own father would be watching over her and Tom too. That was what her Scarborough grandmother had taught her, but was it what she believed?

‘I hope so, Harry,’ she said. ‘I really hope so.’

They walked on and turned on to Hessle Road, heading for home. There were still crowds of people about and the long row of shops was thronged with shoppers.

‘Your nan will be pleased to hear about the job with Mike Gardiner,’ Jeannie said. ‘She’ll know him, of course?’

He nodded. ‘Oh yeh. Known him all his life.’ He looked about him as if assessing something. ‘Erm, tell you what, Jeannie. You go on home and tell Nan about Mike. I’m just going to have a jar of ale and meet up wi’ some of ’lads, them that’s about, and tell ’em ’good news. I’ll not be long. Save me some rabbit stew.’

I should have known, she thought despondently as she watched Harry enter the nearest hostelry and then walked slowly on alone. I really should have known.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

WHEN HARRY SAILED two days later Jeannie heaved a sigh of rather guilty relief. The last few days had been very draining. The experience of being married and finding it wasn’t quite what she expected, living with Nan who, even when in the best of humour, was inclined to be acerbic and blunt, and the effort of encouraging Harry to make a real thrust at finding work, had left her feeling tense and on edge. She hoped now that after spending a few weeks apart they would be able to make a fresh start under better circumstances and rekindle the emotion she still wanted to believe they had both felt on their first meeting.

The day hadn’t started well. Jeannie had woken very early, but when she nudged Harry to awaken him, he’d turned over, grumbling that there was plenty of time.

‘But there isn’t,’ she’d urged. ‘Come on, I’ll go down and make your breakfast whilst you get dressed.’

She’d gone downstairs in her nightshift and shawl, riddled the fire and put on more coal, and swung the kettle over. There was gruel in the oven which had been simmering all night and she cut two slices of bread and brought out a pot of jam which she had bought from the grocer as a special treat. But she could hear no sound of activity from upstairs and she crept back up to find he was still in bed.

‘Harry,’ she’d whispered urgently. ‘It’s half past five.’ It was a lie, but a justified one, she thought; the night before she had moved the hands of the clock forward ten minutes in case of just such an emergency. It had the desired effect, for he sat up with a start and scrambled out of bed and into his trousers and navy blue gansey.

‘For God’s sake, Jeannie, why didn’t you wake me? You know I’ve to catch ’tide.’

She hadn’t answered, but went downstairs again to make and pour his tea and dish up the gruel.

He’d glanced at the clock on the wall as he sat down at the table. ‘Onny twenty past.’ He frowned. ‘You said half past.’

‘I think the clock is slow,’ she replied calmly. ‘I noticed just the other day. Anyway, don’t you have to be on board and out of the dock before the tide turns?’

He paused in the act of taking a gulp of tea. ‘Don’t be telling me what I already know,’ he muttered. ‘There’s nowt
you
can tell me about ships and tides.’ He pressed his lips together with his fingers. ‘So button up!’

She sat down opposite him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just that I’m nervous. I want this to be a really good trip for you, Harry.’

He’d pushed aside the empty gruel dish and picked up a slice of bread which she’d spread with jam. ‘It will be. But I’m tekkin’ a lowly position, you know, just to be in work. I should be skipper by rights.’

‘Yes,’ Jeannie murmured. ‘I realize that.’ She turned her head at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. ‘Here’s Nan coming down to see you off.’

Nan came into the kitchen dressed in a long flannel nightgown with a shawl over her shoulders and her grey hair in a long plait. She looked tired and old, Jeannie thought, with her back bent and her thin face pale and wrinkled.

‘No need for you to be up yet, Nan,’ Harry had told her. He pushed his chair back from the table. ‘You get off back to bed.’

‘I just wanted to tell you that ’clock’s a bit slow,’ she croaked. ‘Don’t want you to miss ’tide.’

‘For heaven’s sake, both of you,’ he exclaimed, but he said it with good humour and Jeannie had felt the tension easing. He picked up the heavy bag containing his oilskins and boots which was by the door. ‘Cheerio, then. I’m off. Give us a kiss, both of you.’

He put his cheek towards Nan who gave him a peck, but Jeannie said, ‘I’ll come to the door with you.’ She wanted to give him a proper kiss, a loving, come home soon kind of kiss. One that he could think about whilst he was away.

‘Right then.’ He turned to the door leading to the scullery. ‘But don’t come out,’ he said. ‘I don’t want folks lookin’ at you in your bedgown. And don’t whatever you do come down to ’dock when we sail.’

‘I won’t,’ she said.

‘Nor down to ’river!’ he warned.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Of course not. There won’t be time.’

‘I’m not talkin’ about time,’ he said sharply, opening the back door. ‘I’m talkin’ about bad luck if you do.’ He frowned. ‘You know about that, don’t you? Being a harbour girl?’

‘I know about it, yes,’ she agreed. ‘I won’t come. Give me a kiss, Harry. I’ll see you on your return.’

He’d kissed her lips. ‘Yeh. About three weeks, that’s all. We’ll have a good fish supper then!’

When she returned to the kitchen Nan was pouring a cup of tea. She looked up at Jeannie. ‘You wouldn’t think about going down to see him off, would you? We don’t do that here; ’fishermen don’t like it.’

Jeannie had sat many times by the Scarborough harbour and waved goodbye to the fishermen, but she knew that many were superstitious about such things and wouldn’t allow their wives to see them off. She didn’t believe in such old wives’ tales herself, but she showed respect to those who did.

‘I won’t go,’ she said. ‘Not if Harry doesn’t want me to.’

‘He doesn’t,’ Nan said firmly. ‘So don’t forget. And,’ she added, ‘yon clock is fast. I put it on ten minutes to mek sure he wasn’t late.’

Jeannie laughed. ‘So did I! It’s only just gone half past five; why don’t you go back to bed for an hour? There’s no need for you to be up so early.’

To her surprise, Nan agreed. ‘I will,’ she said, slurping her tea. ‘I feel a bit tired,’ and pushing away her half-finished drink, she went back upstairs.

Jeannie ate her breakfast, glad of the chance to be alone with her thoughts without Nan sitting across from her. She was still quite nervous of her and wondered how she would cope with just the two of them in the house – Nan’s house, not hers. She suddenly thought of her mother and Tom and pondered on whether they were missing her at home. Her mother would be, she was sure, but maybe not Tom, for he was probably considering his own life, and the new one he would make with Sarah, and not thinking about her at all.

I’ll write to Ma soon, she thought. She’ll want to know how I am and what we’re doing. I can tell her the good news that Harry has gone to sea and that I’m hoping to do some braiding fairly soon when word gets round.

Later in the day she took a walk along the road to get to know the area. Nan didn’t want to go out, she said, but would stay home by the fire. ‘I’ll enjoy me own company for a change,’ she muttered. ‘Sit and do a bit o’ knitting without interruption.’

I suppose that remark was meant for me, Jeannie considered as she turned out of the terrace. I enjoyed my breakfast alone; maybe Nan wants to do the same. It can’t be easy having a stranger living in your house, even if she is married to your grandson.

She hadn’t been out more than ten minutes when she heard someone calling. ‘Mrs Carr!’ The name didn’t register at first, but then she heard ‘Jeannie!’ and looked about her in astonishment. Who knew her here in Hull?

A man on the opposite side of the road was waving at her as he walked alongside a youth pushing a handcart. A horse and waggon went by, obscuring her view, but when it passed she recognized Mike Gardiner.

‘I was just coming to see you, Mrs Carr. Or is it all right to call you Jeannie? You don’t seem old enough to be married.’ He grinned.

‘Please do,’ she said. ‘I didn’t recognize myself as Mrs Carr! But I am old enough.’ She smiled, thinking how nice it was to see a friendly face. ‘I’m nearer seventeen than sixteen.’

‘Practically an old lady then,’ he teased. ‘And just married and already your husband has left you to go to fishing.’

‘Yes, but that’s what I expected,’ she said. ‘It’s what we do, isn’t it?’

He nodded. ‘Quite right, Jeannie. Quite right. I see you’ve a sensible head on your shoulders.’ He turned and pointed across the road to where the youth was waiting by the handcart. ‘I’ve got a net there needing some expert work on it. I’ve brought ’lad myself to show him where you and Harry live and then he’ll know for another time. Are you off somewhere or can you come back to have a look at it?’

‘Oh, I’ll come back,’ she said eagerly, buoyed up by the thought that there would be more jobs after this, if he was pleased with her work.

Mike whistled to the boy to follow them and Jeannie turned round to go back home.

‘I’ve had a frame put up in the yard,’ she told him, ‘but somebody will have to help me drape the net, just for the present.’ She blushed, but was reassured when he nodded and murmured that he and the lad would do that and that it had already been dipped to remove the salt and seaweed.

She examined the net when they had stretched it over the frame so that it didn’t fold on to itself. There were several large holes and rips and snagging, and she knew there was a good deal of work to be done on it.

‘Some of these holes will take a deal of mending,’ she said. ‘It looks as if the fish have been forced through. Unless,’ she murmured, ‘you’ve had a shark in them.’

‘No shark,’ he said grimly. ‘But there was a lad on board on ’last trip that I hadn’t hired before. I saw he was riving at ’nets. He’s ’son of someone I know and I took him on as a favour. Shan’t use him again. That’s why I asked Harry to crew this time.’ He looked over her shoulder at the net. ‘Can you do it or shall I ask somebody else?’

‘Oh, I can do it all right,’ she was quick to assert. ‘But it’s not a day’s job. It will take two or maybe three days.’

‘That’s all right,’ he replied. ‘As long as it’s ready for next week when ’other ship goes out.’

She fingered the net. ‘Where’s the best place to buy hemp and twine?’ she asked. ‘I don’t know anywhere in Hull.’

‘I’ll tek you.’ Nan had come out into the yard. ‘There’s a warehouse just off ’road. They’ve everything that’s needed for net mending. How do, Mike.’ She nodded in his direction. ‘Still mekkin’ money, are you?’

‘Not much.’ He grinned. ‘But spendin’ it anyway. Acquired a second ship; did Harry tell you?’

‘Aye, he did. Hope it’s seaworthy wi’ my lad on it.’

Jeannie listened as they bantered. Harry is still her lad, doubtless always will be; I shall have to get used to that. I’ll probably never have him to myself.

After Mike had left, Nan told Jeannie that she had some mending thread if Jeannie wanted to use it, but didn’t seem offended when she said that she would rather buy her own.

‘I prefer to have a look at the quality,’ she said. ‘Scarborough fishermen are always particular about their nets; I expect the Hull men are the same.’

‘Aye, they are,’ Nan agreed and fetched her shawl so that they could go out immediately.