‘It’ll be all right for me to borrow your car on Saturday
afternoon, then?’ Kate was asking.
‘Of course ya can. Where are you going?’
Kate tapped his nose playfully. ‘Ask no questions . . .’
‘. . . told no lies,’ they both finished, laughing together,
their heads bent towards each other, almost touching.
‘I thought you were going back tomorrow?’ he said,
probing again.
Kate’s eyes sparkled suddenly. ‘There’s been a change
of plan and don’t ask me why, because I’m not telling
you.’
‘Oh, Mum,’ Ella complained petulantly. ‘We’re not
staying here any longer, are we?’
‘Hey.’ Danny looked down at her, feigning an
expression of hurt pride. ‘Don’t you want to stay here with
us?’
Candidly the girl said, ‘If we could stay with
you
, yes.’
Her glance flickered meaningfully towards her
grandmother.
Danny raised his eyebrows and his mouth rounded in a
silent ‘oh’.
‘Run and find Rob, there’s a good girl,’ Kate said, and
turned back to talk to Danny.
Ella glanced about her. Behind them, Rosie was helping
Grandma Eland down the pathway back towards the
waiting cars. As for her aunty Lilian, she had preceded all
of them from the churchyard and was walking swiftly
along the road towards a brand new car parked a little
way beyond the church. The thin shoulders were hunched
as she hurried along, as if she couldn’t wait to get away
from this place. Ella felt ignored by everyone and she was
annoyed now to think that she must spend yet another
night in the horrible little room. It was no better than an
attic.
‘Where is Rob?’ she demanded in a loud voice. Her
mother and Danny turned to look at her, staring at her as
if, in the space of a few moments, they had completely
forgotten she was still there.
‘Oh – er . . .’ Danny glanced about. ‘I don’t know. He
was here a minute ago . . .’
Behind them they heard the rustle of leaves and the
smack of wood on wood and Ella turned to see the boy
flinging a stick up into a tree.
Ella turned and was jumping and skipping over the
graves to reach him.
‘Ella – Ella, don’t do that!’ Kate called.
Then she heard her grandmother’s sharp voice. ‘Danielle
Hilton! Come back here this instant.’
But Ella pretended not to hear and ran on.
‘Never seen the sea!’ The boy couldn’t believe it.
‘So what?’ Ella retorted defensively. ‘You ever seen the
city?’
‘Course I have.’
‘Have you been to the very top of the tower of the
cathedral, then?’
He stared at her, shook his head, then smirked. ‘Bet you
haven’t.’
‘Yes, I have. So there.’
‘When?’
‘Last summer, with Mum.’
‘I bet,’ he scoffed.
‘Ask her. Go on, then, ask her.’ She gripped his arm
and, fury lending her strength, she dragged him towards
where her mother and Danny were at the kitchen table
pouring out cups of tea and handing them round.
‘I thought our Lilian might have come back to the
house,’ Kate was murmurmg.
‘Couldn’t get away fast enough, could she?’ Danny
replied. ‘It’s a shame for ya mam and dad.’
‘Mum, just tell him, will you, we went up the cathedral
tower last summer. He doesn’t believe me. Tell him, Mum.’
Kate smiled. ‘Yes, Rob. Right to the very top.’
‘There, I told you so,’ Ella said triumphantly. ‘I
never
tell lies.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it, Missy,’ remarked her grandmother, coming into the kitchen at that moment. ‘Mind ya
never do. Now then, off you go, the pair of you, and give
us old ’uns a bit o’ peace. Rob, tek Ella on the beach, will
ya?’ And when the boy looked disgruntled at once again
being asked to ‘look after’ Ella, her grandmother, with an
impish smile on her mouth, added, ‘Time we educated this
townie, ain’t it?’
As the boy laughed with her at Ella’s expense, Esther
ruffled his black hair. ‘Off ya go then, Boy.’
Ella caught her uncle Danny’s eye and, giving her a
broad wink, he said, ‘Well, if Ella’s a “townie”, I reckon
we’re a load o’ country bumpkins.’
She gave him a swift, grateful smile and, grabbing a
sausage roll from the table piled high with ham and tongue,
pastries and cakes, and stuffing it into her mouth, followed
Rob out of the back door.
The wind whistled through the elder trees as they
climbed the dunes. Pushing their way through the bushes,
Ella drew her hand back quickly. ‘Ouch!’
The boy looked round. ‘That’s a buckthorn. They’ve
got very sharp prickles.’
She glowered at him, ‘You might have said,’ she muttered,
but he only grinned and went on ahead.
There was a sudden rustle in the thick grass and a blur
of grey fur scurried over her feet and bounded down the
sandy slope. Ella screamed. ‘What was it?’
‘Only a rabbit. The sandhills are full of ’em.’
Hugging her arms around herself, her eyes darting to
left and right, they climbed to the top of the dunes. She
stood and looked about her whilst Rob pointed westwards.
‘There’s yar grannie’s farm and all her land right to the
river and beyond. That’s our place over there . . .’ She
followed the line of his finger and saw the long low
farmhouse and the farm buildings clustered around it. ‘And those chimneys ya can just see above the trees, that’s
the Grange. And right over there,’ he pointed to the southwest
now, ‘that’s Souters’ Farm, but it’s a bit far away to
see it properly from here. My best mate, Jimmy, lives
there.’
‘Mum said that big house is empty now,’ Ella
murmured.
‘That’s right, but I’m going to live there one day.’
‘Now who’s bragging?’
He turned his dark brown eyes upon her, his face
serious. ‘Oh, I aren’t bragging, Townie. I mean it.’
Conditioned to crueller taunts, Ella laughed. ‘All right,
Country Bumpkin. I believe you.’
Still not content that she really did believe him, Rob
added, ‘I aren’t ever going to leave here. I’m going to be a
farmer like me dad, and one day I’m going to buy the
Grange and live in it.’
He was gazing out across the flat wintry fields, a small
smile playing on his mouth. He wasn’t being arrogant, she
realized. He loved this place, his home, the land and if it
was his ambition to live in the big house, then at this
moment she could believe he would make it come true.
‘Fleethaven Point’s over there.’ He gestured, much
closer now, to their left. ‘We’ll come back that way.’ He
swivelled round and she followed. Now they faced eastward,
but even yet she could not see the sea. Before them
lay a flat expanse of marshland, a sea of green grass
through which tiny rivulets meandered secretly, lying in
wait for the unwary. The vast openness unnerved the city
girl, used to noise and bustle and people. At home, even at
night, there was always the distant hum of a passing
vehicle, whilst here, in the tiny bedroom with its sloping
roof, there was only the wind whistling around the remote
farmhouse and a disconcerting rustling of birds – or worse – in the roof. Ella shivered. She felt vulnerable and knew,
alone, she would soon get completely lost. But Rob, her
guide, knew every inch of this marsh. It was his playground.
Grudgingly she had to acknowledge that what her
gran had said was true; while she was with Rob Eland, she
was safe.
‘Come on,’ he urged her. ‘The sea’s beyond that second
line of dunes. This part of the coastline keeps getting built
up by the currents sweeping the sand down the coast and
because we’re at the mouth of the Wash it settles here.’
She listened, amazed at his knowledge. As they crossed
the marsh, jumping the streams, he paused every so often
to point out a plant or a gull soaring above them. ‘That’s a
black-headed gull and that’s a common gull and that’s a
great black-backed gull.’ There seemed to be a flock of
birds wheeling above their heads now.
‘How can you tell the difference?’ she asked. ‘They all
look alike to me.’
‘’S easy. The common gull has a grey back and no red
spot on its beak, unlike the others. The black-backed gull,
like its name, is black right across its back and wingspan.
And there’s a red dot on its beak. I wish we’d got me dad’s
binoculars with us. You’d see it then. He’s got some
massive binoculars.’ Rob laughed, the sound bouncing on
the breeze. ‘First time I used ’em, it brought everythin’ that
close, I thought a gull was diving straight at me.’
‘And I suppose,’ she said sarcastically, ‘the black-headed
gull has a black head.’
‘How very clever of you,’ he mocked her cheerfully in
return. ‘Right, close ya eyes now.’
‘What for?’
‘I’ll take you to the top and then you can open ’em and
see the sea.’
She did as he bid and felt him grasp her elbow to steer her up to the top of the dune. Now she could hear the
waves plainly.
‘Right, stand still. Now – open ya eyes.’
She gasped at the sight of the vast expanse of grey
water. Huge breakers came rolling towards the shore, their
tips foaming white even before they reached their final roll
to come crashing on to the sand.
Ella took a step backwards. ‘I’m not going in that
lot!’
Rob laughed. ‘You should see it when the wind’s in the
right direction. We get some magnificent rollers then.’ He
stretched up his hand skywards. ‘Big as a house sometimes,
they are.’
Ella shuddered.
‘Ya dun’t get owt like that in the town, d’ya?’ he
goaded.
She turned to go back, but he said, ‘Come on, let’s go
right to the edge.’
She hesitated a moment too long, looking doubtfully at
the angry sea, suddenly afraid of its power. It looked as if
it could engulf her and sweep her away . . .
Slyly he said, ‘Scaredy cat. I dare ya.’
That did it.
Suddenly, she found herself running across the sand
towards the waves, with Rob pounding after her.
They played ‘catch me if you can’ with the waves until
Ella failed to skip out of the way quickly enough and the
swiftly flowing wave caught the toes of her brown leather
shoes.
‘That’ll ruin yar shoes. Now you’re for it.’
Ella shrugged. ‘Mum’ll just sigh and say, “Oh, Ella,”
but she’ll not get mad.’
‘Mebbe not. But yar grannie will,’ Rob reminded
her.
Ella snorted. ‘I don’t care what
she
says.’
The boy stared at her. ‘Well, you ought to. She’s
nice, your gran.’ And with that, he turned and marched
away from her along the beach, leaving Ella staring after
him.
She caught up with him as he skirted round the land
that formed the Point itself. As she drew level he gestured
towards a long promontory of land jutting out into the sea
as it swirled around the Point, and said, ‘That’s the Spit.
Yar gran loves that place. She walks right along the bank
and stands at the very end, just watching the sea and the
sky.’
It was obvious that her grandmother figured largely in
his life, as if her very presence in this place touched the
lives of all those who lived here.
‘Come on, I’ll show you where both my grandmas live
in the cottages over there.’
They were following the curve of the coastline and
coming to the triangular piece of land which lay between
the marsh, the mouth of the river and the sea. They came
first to a dilapidated building, only half-standing, the rest
crumbling into ruin.
‘What’s that place, then?’
‘Oh, that was the pub, the Seagull. It was bombed in
the war. My grandad Eland was killed in it.’
‘Oh how awful!’
‘Me grandma Eland lives on her own in that cottage
second from the far end, and me grandad and grandma
Maine live in this end cottage.’ Rob was indicating a line
of four cottages in front of which lay a stretch of grass and
then the river which flowed into the sea and helped to form
the Point which gave the place its name. He turned and
looked at her. ‘Where’s your other gran live, then?’
‘Eh? Oh – I haven’t got one.’
‘Ya must have. Ya dad’s mam. Everybody’s got two.’
Ella shook her head. ‘Well, I haven’t.’
He was leaning closer. ‘Ain’t you got a dad?’
‘He was in the war.’ It was the answer she always gave,
trusting to luck that it wasn’t really a lie. Nearly all the
men had been in the war at the time she had been born;
there was every chance he really had been in one of the
services, whoever he was, she always thought bitterly, but
would say no more. From her curt answer, she allowed
people to guess for themselves what might have happened
to him. Deliberately changing the subject, she put her head
on one side and said, ‘Well,
I
like
your
gran. Shall we
swap? I’ll have yours and you can have mine.’
He laughed, but insisted, ‘She’s all right, your gran,
when ya get to know her.’
He turned and led her towards where the road rose
steeply over a natural bank and dipped down the other
side.
‘Oh,’ Ella said, as she stood on the top of the rise. ‘I
know where we are now. This is the road back to town,
isn’t it?’
‘Yeah. Come on, we’d best be getting back.’
They ran down the incline and, only a short distance
along the lane, they turned into the gate of Brumbys’
Farm.
Her grandmother met them at the back door. ‘Just look
at your shoes, Missy.’
‘It weren’t her fault, Missus. She didn’t know the salt
water would mark ’em.’
‘Don’t try and mek excuses, Boy. She should have
known better.’
Unabashed by Esther’s tirade, Rob said, ‘She can’t help
being a townie, Missus.’
He grinned up at Esther Godfrey and she, despite her irritation, had to smile. ‘You young rogue! Why is it I can
never stay mad at you for many minutes? You soon have
me laughing in spite of mesen.’ She pulled the door wider
open and, with one last, despairing glance at Ella’s shoes
where the sea water had left an uneven white line of salt
across the toes, she sighed and said, ‘Come on in and get
those wet shoes off. Mebbe yar grandpa can get the stain
off.’ She tutted disapprovingly as the two youngsters
trooped past her into the living room where the other
adults were still gathered.