The Fleethaven Trilogy (49 page)

Kate was tugging at her mother’s skirt. ‘Mam, do say I can be bridesmaid and wear a pretty dress, can’t I?’

The smile on Enid’s mouth faltered. She glanced at her mother before saying quietly, ‘Yes, lovey, you shall have a pretty dress.’ There was a slight emphasis on the ‘you’ which did not pass unnoticed by either Esther or Kate.

With a child’s directness, Kate said, ‘Why, you’ll be having a lovely wedding dress, won’t you? Like in the picture books?’

Enid shook her head a little sadly. ‘It ain’t practical for the likes of us. You can’t wear a wedding dress for anything else afterwards, Katie.’ She forced herself to laugh. ‘Can’t see me helping Walter at the anvil in a wedding dress, can you?’

The wistful tone in the girl’s voice was not lost on Esther.

‘Wait here a minute, Ma – Enid. There’s something I think I ought to show you.’

She turned and ran upstairs to fetch the wedding gown that was all but finished apart from the final seams. It’s only sensible she knows, Esther told herself, and besides, I can fit it on her properly now.

The look on Enid’s face as Esther held up the gown before her was thanks enough. Tears of joy ran down her face and all she could say was, ‘Oh, missus, missus!’

‘I was trying to keep it as a surprise until a night or two before your big day, but I think you should know now.’ Esther laughed, ‘Especially as it looks as if I’ll have to tackle a smaller dress for Kate.’

Enid reached out with fingers that shook. ‘It’s beautiful, missus. How kind you are – I dun’t know how to thank you.’

Even Ma sniffed noisily and, not trusting herself to speak, just nodded at Esther and beamed.

*

Enid’s wedding was a joyful affair. There seemed to have been little fun and merrymaking for so long. The long years of war, the loss of Ernie and then the homecoming of an invalid Matthew and the deprivations the war had caused even in this small, close-knit community, had weighed heavily upon them all. And finally Matthew’s death.

Now they had something to celebrate. Enid looked beautiful in the wedding gown and Kate was quite the little show-off in her flounced pink dress. Even Danny puffed out his chest and strutted down the aisle behind the bride and her father.

He was growing so like Matthew it was uncanny, Esther thought, and glanced across the aisle towards Beth. He was a living, daily reminder of the love between Beth and Matthew.

Esther’s glance rested upon Robert Eland. What an unusual man he was to care and go on caring for his wife’s child by another man. Esther sighed. Robert Eland must love Beth very much, and it must hurt him to see how she still pined for Matthew.

Always there was an air of quiet sadness about Beth. Though she looked after her husband and son – they were now living in one of the cottages at the Point – and though she smiled and talked, the sadness never quite left Beth’s eyes. Yet Robert still went on loving her and her boy. He was a remarkable man, Esther thought.

Will stood at Esther’s side in the church, beaming with pride as he watched Kate in her pretty dress, her red curls glinting in the shaft of sunlight slanting through the stained glass window.

Will – a favourite with all the folk at Fleethaven Point, not just with Esther – had been invited to the wedding. He had arrived that morning leaving his carriers cart in Esther’s yard and setting his horses loose in her meadow for the day.

‘Kate’s just like you were at that age, Esther lass. A bonny bairn, you were, an’ so is she.’

Esther put her hand through Wills arm as they walked behind the merry wedding group. ‘Known me all me life, haven’t you, Will?’

‘Yes, lass, I have. Watched you grow – and watched over you, though you might not always have known it.’

Esther wrinkled her forehead. ‘I remember climbing up on to yar cart when you came around the village and me aunt never shouted at me for it. I could never understand that. She shouted at me for everything else.’

Will laughed. ‘Aye, well, she knew better than to cross me.’

Esther glanced at him and bit her lip. Will stared straight ahead as they walked together down the lane towards the Point. The bride and groom rode in Esther’s pony and trap whilst all the other guests walked behind them.

‘I remember you always used to listen to me and talk to me as though I
was
somebody. No one else ever did that, Will. Not when I was little, anyway.’

Briefly his hand covered hers where it rested on his arm. ‘You were always special to me, Esther lass, always.’

They had reached the Hump and once over it were enveloped in the wedding celebrations and her moment of intimacy with Will was lost.

From her little cottage, Ma Harris produced the biggest spread that the people of Fleethaven Point had ever seen. Luckily it was a fine, warm afternoon and so the guests played and danced on the grass outside the row of cottages. Trestle tables had been borrowed and the wedding feast was held out of doors.

Enid’s new husband was a tall, thin young man, with a slight stoop caused by the loss of his leg. In some ways he reminded Esther poignantly of Jonathan. When the light glinted on his hair or he stooped down to speak to Enid, his head slightly on one side, his eyes smiling into hers, he was so like Jonathan in his actions.

Watching the young couple in the church and now here sitting side by side at the wedding reception, shy and not a little embarrassed, but so happy, Esther felt again the aching loneliness. She ought to be content, she told herself fiercely, she had so much and today she was surrounded by so many happy people. All the Harris family were there, the young ones capering and chasing one another in a noisy game of tag after the wedding feast was finished whilst the adults chatted amongst themselves.

There were new faces too amongst the small community: the bridegroom’s family. Ma introduced them to her friends and neighbours. ‘This is Walter’s mam and dad, Mr and Mrs Maine, Esther, and this is his grandad.’

Esther found herself shaking hands with an old man with a long white beard, who leant heavily on a walking-stick, his legs as bowed as she remembered Sam Brumby’s being. At her side, Kate gazed up at the old man with trance-like fascination.

The old man laughed wheezily and grasping his long beard, he tickled Kate under her chin with its wispy ends. ‘Now, little girl, ain’t you ever seen a beard like this ’un afore?’

Kate shook her red curls. ‘No, Grandad,’ her little voice piped and she put out her hand and gently stroked the silky waves of his beard. ‘It’s lovely.’

‘Kate,’ Esther admonished her daughter swiftly, ‘you call this gentleman “Mr Maine”. He’s Walter’s grandad, not yours.’

‘She can call me grandad if she wants,’ the old man laughed. ‘Lots of folks do – even though I ain’t their grandad – just ’cos I’m as old as Methuselah.’

‘Who’s Methoosy?’

At that moment, Danny interrupted Kate’s question and, grabbing her hand, pulled her away into the game of tag.

‘You’ve a lovely bairn there, missus.’ Old Mr Maine’s bright eyes followed the child skipping and hopping amongst the rest.

‘She is that,’ murmured Will who, standing next to Esther, had heard the exchange of conversation. His eyes were thoughtful as he watched Kate.

Mid afternoon the bride and groom took their leave, riding into town in Esther’s pony and trap to their new home above the smithy.

‘’Tis kind of you, Mrs Hilton, to lend us the trap,’ Walter said in his low, soft voice. ‘I’ll see you get it back in the morning.’

Esther put out her hand to shake the young man’s. ‘Don’t worry. So long as the pony is fed, I dun’t mind if you keep it a day or two. Perhaps you could take Enid out tomorrow.’

The young man nodded. ‘Aye, well, if you’re sure. It’d be nice, being Sunday, but I’m back at me work on Monday.’

He smiled and his blue eyes crinkled, reminding her so keenly of Jonathan that her heart turned over. She squeezed his hand in hers and there was a catch in her voice as she said, ‘Good luck to you, Walter. To you both.’

The bride and groom were waved off and the other guests began to drift away. Esther looked around for Will and saw he was in earnest conversation with Ma, who was nodding and smiling. To Esther’s astonishment, she saw Will plant a kiss on Ma’s cheek and then Ma laughed aloud and smacked him playfully on his arm. ‘Get away with you, Will Benson, and do what you have to do.’

They turned and saw Esther coming towards them and for a moment she thought they looked a little sheepish, for they glanced at each other and then quickly away again. Coming to meet Esther, Will said, ‘I’d best be on me way, lass.’

‘Oh, Will, you dun’t have to go yet, d’ya? It’s only early and I’ve a bite of tea ready for you at home afore you set off back.’

Will shifted uneasily from one foot to the other and twisted his hat round and round in fidgeting fingers. ‘I’ll get off, lass, if ya dun’t mind. There’s something I’ve – er – to see to, like.’ He glanced at Ma Harris, who grinned and nodded.

‘You get off, Will. He’ll be back again afore you know it, lass.’

Esther felt a stab of disappointment. This had been such a lovely day and she didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want to let Will – of all people – go. Oh well, she supposed, his next call on Tuesday wasn’t so long away.

‘Goodbye, Mrs Harris,’ Will was saying, ‘and thank ’ee for asking me. It’s been a grand wedding.’

Ma beamed broadly, nodding her head towards him as if sharing a secret. ‘Mebbe it won’t be the last, eh? Goodbye, Will. We’ll be seeing ya again very soon, eh?’

Esther was sure she saw Ma Harris wink at Will.

When Will had gone, Esther, seeing Kate still intent in her game with Danny, slipped away to the shore.

Mechanically her footsteps brought her to the Spit and she was drawn, unwillingly at first, to walk along its length, the water lapping on either side, to its very end, to the point where they had found Matthew’s body. She had not visited this place since, but she knew she must face it again.

It had been her favourite spot and she expected it to be haunted by the tragedy and robbed of its tranquillity. As she neared the very tip she found she was holding her breath. She stared down at the shingle where his body must have lain. Slowly she released the breath and lifted her head. Her gaze scanned the gently rolling water. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky, feeling the warmth of the sun.

Everything was just the same as it had always been. Nothing was spoilt. The peace of this place was almost tangible. She felt she could reach out and embrace it.

She sank down on to the shingle and felt the balm of tears which blurred her vision, so that the water danced before her eyes.

‘Oh, Matthew, I’m so sorry, sorry for you and for Beth,’ she whispered. ‘Sorry I – couldn’t make things right.’

She allowed herself the luxury of a few moments of self-pity. After seeing the happiness of Enid and her new husband, after being part of a large and loving family even if only for a few hours, the loneliness of her life ahead overwhelmed her.

‘Oh, Jonathan, Jonathan, where are you?’ Tears ran down her cheeks and, as she bent her head forward, dropped and were lost in the vastness of the ocean.

W
HEN
she returned to the wedding party, most of the guests, other than those who lived at the Point, had departed. Only Mr and Mrs Maine and Grandad Maine were still there. Old Mr Maine was sitting outside Ma Harris’s cottage watching the sun sinking into the flat horizon, streaking the sky gold and pink. On his knee, her cheek against his silky beard, was Kate.

Esther stood before them and the old man looked up at her with twinkling eyes. ‘We’ve become good friends, yar little lass an’ me. Ya’ll have to bring her to see my cottage. ’Tis only a few miles inland – nowt for that smart pony and trap of yourn.’

Esther smiled. ‘We’d love to come. Thank you.’ Gently, she added, ‘’Tis time you came home now, Kate.’

The child’s eyelids were already heavy with tiredness, but like Esther she didn’t want this lovely day to end.

‘A bit longer, Mam, then I’ll come.’

‘All right, then. Only a few minutes, mind, just whilst I get yar tea ready.’

‘I’ll send her home, missus, in a little while.’

Esther nodded and said, ‘Goodbye, Mr Maine. It’s been lovely to meet you.’

As Esther walked up the lane towards home, she passed the meadow, the rippling grass just ripe for harvest.

‘We’ll be able to start this week,’ she murmured and smiled to herself. ‘My first haymaking as the tenant of Brumbys’ Farm in my own name.’ Shading her eyes, she stood in the lane and looked towards the farmhouse silhouetted against the setting sun, her gaze travelling over the house, the orchard, the barn and other buildings and then beyond to the fields of ripening corn. She sighed. How beautiful it all was and yet that very beauty brought a lump to her throat.

In the distance she heard three shrill, excited blasts on a whistle and the rattle of cart wheels.

Will? But he had only just left an hour or so ago. Was something wrong? Why was he coming back?

Her heart leapt. Three whistles – why three?

As the cart rounded the bend in the road, she could see that there were two figures on the front of it. As it slowed, one jumped down and began to run towards her. A tall man with an unruly lock of fair hair that glinted in the sunlight and fell forward over his forehead . . .

‘
Jonathan!
’ She couldn’t even take so much as a step towards him, her legs refused to move. ‘Oh Jonathan!’

But he was coming towards her, that dear, familiar smile crinkling his eyes. Then he was taking her face gently between his hands and kissing her forehead, her eyes and at last her mouth.

‘Oh, my love, my dearest love,’ he was murmuring.

And all the time, Esther had not moved. Breathlessly, she whispered, ‘Is it really – really you?’

He put his arms about her and drew her close against his chest and she felt the solid reality of him.

She was vaguely aware of the cart wheels rattling on towards the Point, and then they were alone.

‘But where’ve you come from? How . . .?’