The Harbour Girl (38 page)

Rosie and Billy left at the same time, with Billy saying he’d walk along Hessle Road with Rosie, making what Jeannie was sure was an excuse that he was going that way anyway. She got up after they had gone and pottered about slowly, making tea and preparing food for Jack, and after he’d gone to sleep she sat by the fire and pondered on what was in store for her.

I must make more effort to find work, she thought. It’s not going to come to me. The small amount of money that Harry had sent wouldn’t last any time at all, not once she’d paid the rent. The Fishermen’s Mission provided family assistance in times of bereavement if a fisherman was lost at sea, but Jeannie mused that she’d hardly qualify for consideration just because her husband had decided not to support her and their child.

There was one option, she thought, cringing at the very idea, and that was to try for assistance from the Poor Law Union which was there to provide a relief fund for those at rock bottom. I can’t! I can’t! The humiliation! I couldn’t bear it. I’d only apply if there was a danger that I couldn’t feed Jack.

Going out the next day, she shivered. There was a nip in the air, and the screeching of gulls overhead warned of rough weather out on the coast. She bought the cheapest cut of meat and asked the butcher for a bag of marrow bones to make soup. He glanced questioningly at her but made no comment, used, she supposed, to requests like hers. From there she went to the greengrocer for potatoes and carrots and with a sigh of satisfaction knew she had enough food for her and Jack for a week, providing she had enough coal to keep the fire going.

Later that evening Billy called round with a sackful of wood from the joinery yard and said with a wink that as he brought plenty of wood home most days, his mother wouldn’t miss this. Jeannie was overjoyed and soon had a blaze going; she prepared a large saucepan of beef broth to which she would add a carrot and a potato each day and supplement with the addition of suet dumplings so that they wouldn’t go hungry.

She spent the next three weeks staying mainly at home to conserve her energy and her money. But then she ran out of coal and wood and potatoes and knew she would have to go out on the road and spend the last of her small cache of coins. Rosie had been to see her twice and seemed more cheerful than usual, and had also brought her a parcel of fish for which she was very thankful. Rosie also repeated that her Auntie Dot was looking forward to seeing her.

But Jeannie was wary of going just yet. She felt tired after the miscarriage, and shabby, and knew she looked thin and undernourished, which she was sure Rosie’s affluent aunt would notice. Not knowing her, she felt she would either be condescending towards her, or alternatively offer her money which Jeannie was far too proud to accept.

Her mother had written saying that she was worried that she hadn’t received a letter or postcard from her recently and hoped that everything was all right. Tom had been disappointed that she hadn’t been able to attend his wedding and Jeannie too had been saddened, but she knew that the train fare to Scarborough was out of her reach. I’ll write, she thought, and tell her that everything is fine, especially since we moved in with Mrs Herbert. No need to bother her by saying that I moved without Harry and that he’s not living with me; Ma would say come home for sure. But I can’t do that, she thought tearfully. I can’t admit that my marriage is a failure.

Eventually she was persuaded by Rosie to visit her aunt and one Sunday morning she dressed Jack in his warmest clothes and wrapped him in her shawl, which he immediately pulled off. He was already crawling and attempting to walk, and delighting her with his babbling words. Another few weeks and it would be his first birthday and she hoped that Harry would remember it. He was due home at any time and she made a mental note to remind him when he came, as he’d promised.

Rosie met her out on the road and they took it in turns to carry Jack. He’d grown out of his cart and Jeannie had burned it on the fire one day when she’d run out of wood. I’ll not need it now, she’d thought regretfully. Not now I’ve lost a bairn. There’ll be no more children for me.

Rosie’s Auntie Dot lived in a large house on the Boulevard. Her husband had founded a successful chandler’s shop at the beginning of the upturn of the fishing industry. The proceeds from this bought him a half share in a smack and then a little later several shares in a smoke house before he sank more cash in a coffee house and a beer shop. He was a man with many interests and irons in several fires. The culmination was the purchase of the house on the Boulevard. He and his wife had no children, and because he was a prudent man they lived, not lavishly, but well.

It’s a very grand house, Jeannie thought as she followed Rosie up the front steps. The Boulevard was a wide avenue with tall trees which had now shed their leaves but whose bare branches, crowned by black shaggy crows’ nests, stood out majestically against the grey sky. All the houses were substantial and respectable, many of them three-storeyed and elegant.

A maid held open the front door as they entered the wide hall. Rosie took off her coat and handed it to her, but Jeannie shyly shook her head when asked if she’d like to leave her shawl. She didn’t want the maid or Rosie’s aunt to see her worn blouse beneath it.

Dorothy Greenwood, plump and dark-haired, was dressed neatly and simply in a dark skirt and a crisp white blouse with leg o’ mutton sleeves. She received Jeannie warmly. ‘Call me Auntie Dot,’ she said. ‘We’re practically related, aren’t we, seeing as you’re married to my nephew? Although, as I understand it’ – she waved Jeannie to a comfy chair – ‘he’s being rather a naughty boy. And as for that minx Connie! Oh yes,’ she said, seeing the disquiet on Jeannie’s face. ‘I don’t miss much and I don’t need Rosie to tell me any gossip. I’m out on ’road most days and I hear what’s going on. And I must say that my opinion of Connie is ’only thing that my ma and me ever agreed on.

‘Course,’ she went on, sitting in a chair across from Jeannie next to a blazing fire, ‘in a way, ’poor lass never stood a chance wi’ a mother like she’s got, but that’s no excuse for pinching somebody else’s husband.’ She pressed a bell on the wall. ‘We’ll have a cup o’ coffee. And cake?’ She leaned forward to Jack, who was sitting on Jeannie’s knee staring at her. ‘I bet you’d like cake, wouldn’t you? Can he eat cake?’ she asked Jeannie.

‘I’ve never given it to him,’ Jeannie confessed, thinking how nice it would be to be able to afford cake. ‘But I expect he can, as long as he doesn’t choke.’

‘Bread and jam then,’ Dot suggested. ‘That might be safer; we don’t want ’little mite choking. Are you coming to Auntie Dot?’ She put out her arms to Jack, who to Jeannie’s astonishment slid down from her knee and staggered towards her. Dot picked him up and jiggled him on her wide lap and allowed him to play with the string of beads round her neck.

‘Never wanted any bairns of our own,’ she said cheerfully. ‘And fortunately they never happened, but I quite like other people’s as long as I can hand them back if they become unsavoury or troublesome.’ She patted Jack’s cheek. ‘I could tek to you, though,’ she said softly. ‘And you look just like your da did when he was your age.’

Jeannie felt her eyes fill with tears. He might look like Harry, but she hoped with all her heart he wouldn’t grow up to be weak and unreliable like him.

‘Go find Minnie, Rosie,’ Dot said. ‘Tell her to hurry up wi’ coffee. It’s going to be dinner time by ’time she brings it. And bring bread and jam and some milk for ’bairn!’

Rosie got up and went to the door. She raised her eyebrows at Jeannie, who smiled back, both knowing that Dot hadn’t yet asked for the coffee but only rung the bell.

‘Now then,’ Dot said to Jeannie when they were alone. ‘How are you managing, or mebbe you’re not but onny just surviving?’ She tilted her head to one side and surveyed Jeannie. ‘I don’t want to pry, but you’re family and if I can help I will. Rosie told me that Harry didn’t leave you much money before he went back to sea. She also told me about you losing ’bairn you were carrying.’

‘Yes,’ Jeannie said. ‘Both those things are true. And you’re very kind to offer help, but I have to manage as best I can. Harry will be home again soon; I shall talk to him then and explain that until I can find work on the nets he’ll have to support me and Jack.’

‘Well, you can explain all you like,’ Dot said, playing pat-a-cake with Jack, ‘but it doesn’t alter ’fact that no matter how sorry he is or how many promises he makes, he’ll still let you down.’

‘How do you know?’ Jeannie whispered, not wanting to believe it. ‘He might change.’

‘He won’t,’ Dot said matter-of-factly. ‘He’s just like my brother – his da.
He
was full of promises that he never kept. But I’m not going to press you. Come to me if and when you need to. I’ll be here.’

‘Thank you,’ Jeannie said, just as they heard the peal of the doorbell.

‘That’ll be Sam – forgotten his keys again,’ Dot commented. ‘He allus seems to know when ’kettle’s on. No, don’t get up,’ for Jeannie had started to rise from the chair. ‘I want you to stop for a bit; you’re not in a hurry, are you? Besides,’ she went on, ‘he’ll not stop long. He’s supposed to be meeting somebody today. A bit o’ business, you know; he can’t seem to give it up,’ she added indulgently.

A large man came through the door and started when he saw Jeannie. ‘Sorry,’ he said in a booming voice which started Jack crying and holding out his arms to Jeannie. ‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘I didn’t know we’d company.’

‘We haven’t,’ his wife said. ‘She’s family. This is Harry’s wife.’

‘How do?’ he said. ‘Samuel Greenwood. Call me Sam. Hope you don’t mind, Dot, but I’ve brought somebody back wi’ me. We’ve a bit o’ business to discuss. We’ll go in my office.’

‘Bring ’em in first,’ Dot commanded, handing Jack over to Jeannie. ‘We’re allus glad to meet folks.’

‘Well, you know Mike Gardiner,’ he said. ‘And this young fellow-me-lad’s come wi’ him. Come in. Come in,’ he said to someone in the hall. ‘Here’s the wife,’ he added as Mike came into the room, ‘and this bonny lass here is …’

‘How do, Dot.’ Mike grinned. ‘And I know who this is. Hello, Jeannie. Are you all right?’

‘And this young chap is from Scarborough, so you might know him.’ He turned to the door and Jeannie’s eyes followed him. ‘Ethan Wharton,’ he said. ‘We’re hoping to go into ’trawling business together.’

CHAPTER FORTY

THEY WERE BOTH lost for words. Jeannie searched for a greeting but could find none, whilst Ethan stood as if struck dumb.

‘Have you met, then? Or not?’ Mike asked in a puzzled voice. ‘Scarborough’s not that big a place.’

Ethan cleared his throat. ‘Yes – yes, we have. It’s, erm, nice to see you again, Jeannie.’

Jeannie managed a smile. ‘Yes, you too. It’s been a while. How – how’s everybody?’

Ethan nodded, his eyes on her face, and it seemed to Jeannie that the two of them were displaced, trapped in an uninhabited void, whilst around them Mike, Dot and Sam were speaking words without sound or form.

She blinked. ‘Did you go to Tom’s wedding?’ she asked huskily. ‘I couldn’t – I couldn’t go. The journey, you know, with Jack. Too difficult.’

Ethan looked down at Jack as if seeing him for the first time. ‘He’s a fine boy.’ He smiled down at the child. ‘Looks like you. I was Tom’s best man. It was a great day – almost.’

‘Almost?’ she faltered.

He nodded again. ‘You weren’t there,’ he said softly. ‘Your ma missed you.’

Jeannie’s mouth trembled. ‘It’s been difficult,’ she whispered. ‘I …’

‘Right then,’ Sam Greenwood boomed. ‘Let’s leave ’ladies to their gossip and we’ll go in my room and have a chat about business.’

He ushered the men out and Minnie carried a tray into the room.

‘Will you stay for dinner?’ Dot asked Jeannie as she poured the coffee. ‘There’s plenty – you needn’t be bothered that there won’t be enough to go round. We allus eat well. Sam’s got a good appetite. We’re having roast beef today.’

Jeannie licked her lips, salivating at the thought of roast beef. ‘If you’re sure it’s no bother,’ she said, putting Jack down on the floor to eat the bread and jam Rosie had brought for him.

‘No bother at all.’ Dot passed her a cup. ‘Rosie, go and ask Mike and that young chap if they’d like to stop for dinner and if they say yes, go and tell Minnie.’

Rosie took a sip of her coffee before putting down her cup and going off to do her aunt’s bidding.

‘You knew that young fellow, didn’t you?’ Dot asked. ‘What was he? A sweetheart?’

‘We lived nearby,’ Jeannie prevaricated. ‘All the fisher families know each other, just like here.’

‘Ah, I see. I thought he seemed a bit sweet on you, that’s all.’

‘Oh, no.’ Jeannie forced a laugh. ‘Nothing like that. He’s courting a girl, I think. A chandler’s daughter.’

‘Really? Well, there’s some money there, and I should know.’

‘Ethan wouldn’t be bothered about that. He works very hard,’ Jeannie said quietly. ‘He’s been a fisherman since he was twelve. He worked on his father’s smack.’

‘Mm.’ Dot sipped her coffee. ‘And now he wants to go into trawling?’

‘I don’t know. He’s ambitious. He had his own smack and fishing is all he knows, so he’ll be willing to try anything to make a living – I should think,’ she finished lamely, thinking that she had said more than she should about a mere neighbour.