The Harbour Girl (42 page)

Mike Gardiner called in on his way to his son’s house to wish everybody greetings for the festive season. He said, ‘How do, Bessie,’ to Mrs Welburn and she gave him a frosty smile in answer.

At two o’ clock they were seated at table waiting for the meal to be served. They were in a dining room with red flocked wallpaper, dark mahogany furniture, heavy curtains and a blazing coal fire. In one corner stood a Christmas tree with flickering candles. Jack crowed at it and clapped his hands as he sat in a wooden high chair that Dot had acquired from somebody she knew who had no further need of it.

It was incredible, Jeannie thought, how many people Dot knew who were about to get rid of something they didn’t want any more that was just what Dot was looking for. The reason, she surmised, was that Dot, in spite of coming up in the world through Sam’s endeavours, had kept her feet on the ground and stayed in touch with nearly all the people she had ever known.

‘You are the only people I know who eat dinner so early,’ Bessie commented sourly. ‘Personally I never eat before seven.’

‘We get hungry,’ Dot said placidly, ‘and it’s ’way we all were brought up, in case you’ve forgotten, Bessie. Dinner was allus at dinner time, midday. We’re late today cos it’s Christmas. Pour everybody a glass of wine, Sam, and I’ll give Minnie a hand to dish up. Rosie, come and help me.’

Sam’s sister gave a rebuking sniff at another dereliction of what was right and proper and the casualness of the domestic situation. She almost fainted when Dot mentioned that Minnie would be eating with them.

‘I cannot understand your wife,’ she told Sam when Dot and Rosie had left the room. ‘She has no sense of propriety or moral duty. The servant will abuse her position if she doesn’t know her place.’ She shuddered. ‘And as for eating at ’same table!’

‘She’s been with us for six years, Bessie, and is ’daughter of one of Dot’s best friends from ’old days,’ Sam said mildly. ‘We know who she is and she knows who we are and what we were. There’s no reason for her to eat alone in ’kitchen when there’s room at our table.’

Jeannie’s opinion of Sam changed dramatically. She had thought him an overbearing man who had done well for himself and forgotten his roots, unlike his wife. Clearly she was wrong. I’ve been wrong about so many things, she thought as she waited and looked and listened and tried to keep Jack entertained, for he objected to being fastened in a chair when there were so many exciting things to explore.

‘So where’s Harry?’ Bessie turned to Jeannie. ‘He’s never away on a trip at Christmas!’

‘No,’ Jeannie answered quietly. ‘I don’t know where he is, to be honest.’

Bessie hmphed. ‘In some pub, I expect. That’s where most of ’fishermen can be found.’

‘Not all of ’em, Mrs Welburn,’ Billy broke in, and found himself the object of hostile scrutiny. ‘Most of ’em like to be at their own fireside.’

Jeannie became aware that Sam was looking at her, and when she met his eyes she thought she saw sympathy there before he transferred his gaze to his sister.

‘Harry’s not here cos he prefers to be somewhere else, Bessie,’ he murmured. ‘You’ll understand that more’n anybody. So we’ll say no more on ’subject.’

Bessie’s face flooded bright red and to cover her embarrassment she reached for a handkerchief and made a pretence of blowing her nose. Jeannie was astonished by the progression of meddlesome question to swift expressive answer, but the moment was over, done and finished with as Dot and Rosie, followed by Minnie, processed into the room laden with trays and dishes and an enormous platter holding a massive golden goose stuffed with sage and plum.

Sam carved at the table whilst Dot and Rosie put out dishes of crisp roast potatoes, buttered turnips, sprouts, parsnips, red cabbage and creamed leeks, and Minnie dashed back to the kitchen to bring in the plum sauce and onion gravy.

Jeannie had never in her life seen so much food served at one time, and Jack banged the tray of his chair with a spoon in his eagerness to try it.

‘Here, give him a parsnip to chew on.’ Dot deftly forked a sliver of parsnip to hand to Jeannie, who gave it to Jack to suck on.

When they were all served, Sam raised his glass. ‘To all at our table and our brave lads at sea. God bless us all.’

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Minnie got up to answer it. There was a murmur of voices out in the hall, and Dot called out, ‘Tell whoever it is to come in, Minnie. Your dinner’s getting cold.’

Minnie stood by the dining room door, pressing her lips together, and looked from Dot to Jeannie. ‘It’s Harry Carr, Mrs Greenwood. He’s asking if his wife’s here.’

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

HARRY RAN HIS finger round his shirt neck, clearly embarrassed at arriving as they were eating, but his gaze fell on the groaning table and involuntarily he licked his lips.

‘Would you like to stay to dinner, Harry?’ Dot asked. ‘There’s plenty.’

Jeannie hoped he would say no. She wouldn’t be able to eat with him sitting at the same table and pretending that there was nothing wrong between them. As it was, his sudden appearance had curbed her appetite.

Jack looked up at Harry. He was still gnawing on the parsnip. ‘Na na na na,’ he chortled, holding up the wet and sticky vegetable towards Harry. Harry seemed confused, and clearly had no idea how to respond to the child.

‘He’s offering you some of his dinner, Harry,’ Jeannie said softly. ‘Can you pretend to take a bite?’

Harry gazed blankly at her and gave a shake of his head. ‘I’ll just have a slice o’ meat, Auntie Dot,’ he said. ‘Is it chicken?’

‘No, it’s goose.’ Dot asked Minnie to pass another plate. ‘Would you like some plum sauce on it?’

‘Yes please.’ Harry watched as Sam carved two thick slices of goose and put them on a plate. Everybody else sat with their cutlery suspended over their own meal whilst Harry was served. He sat down at the table next to Minnie, who shuffled up to make room.

‘So, you’re still wi’ Humber Steam ’n’ Fishing, I tek it?’ Sam asked, filling what seemed to Jeannie a long-drawn-out silence. ‘They’re a good company to work for.’

The slightest of wavering on Harry’s part as he paused with his fork to his mouth before answering ‘Yeh’ alerted Jeannie to the fact that he was not telling the truth. He’s not! He’s left or been asked to leave!

‘So when’s your next trip? Are they winter fleeting?’

‘Yeh. I’m, er – I’m not going till ’New Year.’ He said no more until his plate was empty, and then pushed back his chair. ‘That were grand, Auntie Dot; thank you.’

He stood for a moment biting his lip and then looked at Jeannie, who hadn’t touched her meal, and took a breath.

‘I’ll be off now and let you all get on wi’ your Christmas dinner, but I just want to say – well, to thank you really, for havin’ Jeannie and ’bairn here today, cos I don’t know what she would’ve done otherwise. I called round to Strickland Street this morning but I hadn’t got owt planned, so it would’ve been a dowly sort o’ Christmas for her wi’out you.’

He came, Jeannie thought, and I’d already left. But what was his intention? After his outburst yesterday what else had he to say to me?

‘And so, what I want to say,’ he repeated, ‘in front of everybody’ – Harry looked down for a moment before glancing again at Jeannie – ‘is that after ’next trip I’ll try to get myself sorted out. I’ve been a bit lost lately – well, since Nan died, I suppose, an’ trying to get a decent ship an’ all that – but come ’New Year I’ll try to get some kind o’ life together for us; an’ that I’m sorry. Sorry for ’way I’ve behaved, Jeannie. You never deserved any of it.’

There was a momentary silence. Sam cleared his throat, frowning as if he didn’t understand what all that was about. Dot rubbed at her nose. Rosie kept her eyes on Billy, who was staring at his plate, and Minnie continued eating as if she hadn’t heard a word. Bessie’s eyebrows were raised and she wore an expression of inquisitive interest.

Jeannie rose from the table. ‘I’ll see you out, Harry,’ she said, as if she were the mistress of the house and not Dot, and walked out of the room ahead of him.

‘I meant what I said, Jeannie,’ he said in a low voice as she opened the front door. ‘I’ll do me best, but it’s been awkward. You know what I’m saying, don’t you?’

She nodded. It would be awkward with Connie in the threesome. Jeannie sighed. Connie wouldn’t go easily, that was for sure, but that was Harry’s problem and he would have to deal with it, not her.

‘You don’t believe me, do you?’

‘I want to, Harry.’ Her voice trembled. ‘I want to for Jack’s sake as much as yours and mine. I don’t want him to grow up without a father. I had to, and I know it wasn’t easy for my mother to manage alone.’ She swallowed. ‘But after your next trip …’ the solution had come to her only as she thought of her mother’s early struggle with two small children to bring up ‘… if you haven’t sorted out your life and decided who you want to be with …’ her breath was catching in her throat and it was as if a band was tightening round her chest as she tried to hold back her emotion ‘… then I shall leave Hull and go back to Scarborough.’

It was the only answer, she thought as she walked back towards Strickland Street. Billy and Rosie had come part of the way with her until finally, on her insistence that she would be all right now she was on the well-lit Hessle Road, they had turned back. Billy hadn’t made his announcement after all. He said it didn’t seem right, and Jeannie understood that. Harry’s arrival had put a damper on the occasion.

‘But you’ll tell them, won’t you?’ she asked.

Rosie said they’d decided to wait until Bessie had left and Dot and Sam were alone. ‘She’s very nosy,’ Rosie said. ‘And she’d love to be ’first to spread ’news.’

A blizzard of snow came down as Jeannie went on, and Jack crowed with delight as the flakes landed on the pram but disappeared between his mittened hands as he tried to catch them. The sky was heavy with low grey cloud. Dot had said she could stay the night, but as ever Jeannie was afraid of taking any offer for granted, so that if, or more likely when, she was really in need she would feel she could ask for help without being thought to be taking advantage.

Yes, I’ll definitely go home to Scarborough if Harry’s intentions come to nothing, and if Ma doesn’t mind. She’ll help me with Jack, I know she will, and we can work together as we did before and pool our wages.

The fire was still warm when she stepped into her room and she thought that perhaps Harry had put on a piece of coal when he’d called earlier, but in fact it was Mrs Herbert who had done that, as she discovered when she put her head round the door to her room and told her she was back.

‘There’s been a young man looking for you,’ the old lady said. ‘I told him I thought you’d gone to relatives for your dinner.’ She nodded amiably. ‘I put a lump of coal on ’fire, I hope that was all right. Didn’t want you coming home to a cold room.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Herbert, that was kind of you,’ she shouted. ‘It’s very cold out and snowing hard!’

‘Would you like to sit in here?’ Mrs Herbert asked. ‘It’s a bit warmer than in ’front room.’

Jeannie eagerly agreed. It was much warmer. The window at the front was frozen on the inside as well as out and patterned with shapes of iced flowers and leaves. Mrs Herbert had a bright fire glowing in her hearth and the kettle was steaming over it. Jeannie lifted Jack out of his pram and joined her.

‘I’ve been thinking, m’dear,’ Mrs Herbert said. ‘You could live in here wi’ me during ’day and just leave a small fire in your room for bed time. We could share ’expense of ’coal,’ she added, and Jeannie thought there was an appeal in her expression.

It was quite a good idea, she thought. In Mrs Herbert’s middle room a fireplace with a boxed-in grate and an ash can beneath it burned better and warmer and more economically than the one in the front. Two bars across it made it possible to boil a kettle or pan more easily than on her open fire.

‘I’d like that, Mrs Herbert,’ she shouted. ‘It’ll be warmer for Jack.’ She was terrified that he would catch cold, which could so easily turn to pneumonia, and there was no cure for that.

They sat together by Mrs Herbert’s fire. Jack was sleeping in a chair wrapped in a blanket and Jeannie was deep in thought about her future, a future which she felt would not include Harry. She couldn’t envisage their patching up any kind of relationship. Connie was unlikely to let him go, and Harry, who, she admitted, was weak when confronted by emotion, wouldn’t want to upset her. She jumped when Mrs Herbert suddenly stirred herself.

‘I had a visitor,’ she said. ‘After you’d gone out.’

Jeannie nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said loudly. ‘It was my husband, Harry.’

‘No, dear. Not him. My brother.’

Jeannie expressed surprise. She hadn’t known Mrs Herbert had a brother; she’d assumed she was without any relatives.

‘Three brothers and two sisters I had,’ she told her. ‘But onny one brother left. He’s younger than me. He married a woman from across ’river, River Hull that is, and went to live in Marfleet. Haven’t seen him in a long time.’

Jeannie shook her head. She didn’t know where Marfleet was, but she had gleaned from various conversations that ‘across ’river’, although the same town, was akin to a foreign country.

‘Anyway, she died at beginning of ’year and he wants to come back to Hessle Road. He still thinks of it as home, you see, and as he’s no bairns … well, he’s found a house to rent and wants me to go and live wi’ him. Says we’ll be company for each other an’ he doesn’t like to think of me being by m’self.’