The Hungry Tide (17 page)

‘She’s a good bairn, that one. A real worker,’ Mrs Scryven acknowledged, having watched the way Lizzie had set to with broom and pail to clear away a year’s dust and grime.

Mrs Scryven had been busily occupied plying Maria with nourishment three times a day, her small dumpy figure scurrying across the fields, armed with bowls of soup and tender pieces of meat, to the barn where Maria was propped up on pillows and blankets on her mound of hay.

‘I shall be that fat, tha’ll be able to render me down,’ she protested as Mrs Scryven appeared again through the barn door, holding yet another jug of liquid.

‘This isn’t broth.’ Mrs Scryven poured the pale pink liquid into a cup and handed it to Maria. ‘This is to help thee when thy time comes.’

Maria sipped the warm pungent liquid with the faint smell of ripe summer fruit and was instantly reminded of the time she was expecting Tom, when her mother, like Mrs Scryven, would appear with strange potions and liquids for her to consume to ensure a trouble-free labour.

‘My mother had all this lore,’ she began.

‘Aye, and now it’s lost!’ The old lady nodded her head, her thoughts astray. ‘But we’ll tell ’bairn, she’ll know what to do.’

Maria stared at her. ‘Dost tha mean our Alice – or Lizzie?’

Mrs Scryven looked flustered, ‘Ah, don’t listen to me. I’m just a silly old gawk sometimes, my tongue prattles on afore I’m ready.’ She leaned forward. ‘Wilt tha be satisfied wi’ four bairns?’

‘Three,’ corrected Maria. ‘Lizzie isn’t one of ours.’

‘Aye, I guessed as much.’

Tom’s and Alice’s thick dark hair and olive skin, like their mother’s, was in sharp contrast to Lizzie’s fine fair hair and pale complexion.

Will came in through the door and swept off the old hat he was wearing. ‘Would Madam care to inspect ’palace?’

‘Oh – at last. Can I get up? Mrs Scryven – tha’s been so kind, but I’m not used to this life of idleness. It’s all right for grand folk like Mrs Masterson, but I’ve never spent so much time in bed before.’

‘And I doubt that tha ever will again, so it’s as well tha hasn’t a liking for it. But ’babby’s safe enough now. Tha’ll go thy full time.’

Will walked Maria slowly across the Masterson land, or Garston land as the locals called it, skirting the prickly hawthorn hedges and clumps of bramble which already were bright with berries proclaiming the end of summer.

‘Is it all for us, Will? We don’t have to share with anybody else?’

Maria was overwhelmed. The stone- and boulder-built house with the overhanging thatch looked big enough for three families. The door opened into a room much larger than the one in Wyke Entry, and their few sticks of furniture looked sparse, but she didn’t mind that if there was room to move.

‘But tha’s forgotten to bring in ’bedding, Will. It’ll look well in that corner, over there by ’fire.’

Will smiled mysteriously and opened a door across the room. To her delight she saw another room, smaller than the first, but taking up most of the space was a rough hewn bed which Will had made, with their own feather mattress already on it.

‘And we’ve got our own water pump out in ’yard. There’s a deep well, fed from a spring, so we shan’t have to go traipsing around looking for good water.’ He put his arms around her. ‘We’ll do well here, Maria. ’Bairns will grow strong.’ He laughed. ‘And that old witch Mrs Scryven says she’ll get rid of Alice’s cough with some of her potions.’

They stood by the door. The wind was blowing strongly now and intermingled with its howling they could hear the plaintive shrieking of gulls as they wheeled overhead.

Maria shuddered as the sound assailed her ears. ‘Tom and ’girls—’ she said. ‘Where are they?’

‘What? Oh, Alice is up at ’house baking tarts.’ His face suddenly changed colour. ‘Oh God – Tom and Lizzie!’

Maria turned to him. ‘What is it? Will, what’s wrong?’

He reached for his crutch and hurried past her. ‘They wanted to go fishing. But ’tide—!’

He started across the field, stumbling in his haste but miraculously not falling, as Maria watched horrorstruck from the doorway.

As he ran he realized that above the sound of the gulls and the wind was another thin cry.

He had been surprised when they had arrived at Monkston at the nearness of the farmhouse and the village houses to the cliff edge, but as he stumbled now over the last few yards and flung himself down at the edge, he was thankful for it.

He peered down over the brink. The sea was already licking the base of the cliff and although the water was not yet deep the tide was coming in fast. There was no sign of Tom or Lizzie and he hollered Tom’s name, the wind catching the sound and tossing it away landwards. He got up awkwardly and hurried further along the top of the cliff. So anxious was he to move quickly that he didn’t watch where he was going and his crutch caught in one of the deep fissures which ran along the cliff edge and he fell heavily.

As he lay there winded, he heard again a shrill cry, only this time he knew it wasn’t the gulls and it was coming from slightly down to the right of him. He leaned over again and below a jutting outcrop he saw the frightened face of Tom, trying desperately not to cry, and below him a pale and terrified Lizzie, clinging frantically to the crumbling cliff surface.

‘Come on then, Tom, let’s be having thee up here,’ he called out in a tone more cheerful than he felt, but nevertheless tinged with relief at having found them in one piece.

‘We couldn’t find ’steps where we came down.’ Tom’s voice cracked tearfully. ‘And ’sea was coming up that fast.’

‘Never mind that now,’ said his father. ‘Just try to get another foothold further up – but don’t let go with thy hands,’ he added hurriedly as Tom scrabbled around with his feet. ‘Just take it nice and slowly.’

He saw Lizzie shake her head as a flurry of sand and bits of debris fell on top of her as Tom searched for another foothold.

‘Lizzie!’ he called. ‘Try to move over to thy left, there’s a bit of a ledge where tha can stand easier.’

Lizzie didn’t move but gazed up at him, her blue eyes wide and abstracted.

‘Lizzie, can tha hear me? Try to move over.’

She remained motionless, her fingers white where she clutched a clump of marram grass growing out of the cliff.

Tom eased himself slowly up, his confidence returning now that his father was near.

‘Now then, Tom, I’m going to put my crutch over, and I want thee to take hold of it, first with one hand and then with t’other,’ said Will, still keeping a watchful eye on Lizzie. ‘Then I’ll take ’weight and tha can walk up.’

Slowly, step by step, Tom came up the side, Will’s shoulders and arms taking the strain until he finally reached the top, his face showing signs of jubilation as fear receded.

‘Run now as fast as tha can, and fetch help from ’village.’

Will knew that getting Lizzie to the top of the cliff was going to prove more difficult. He had seen that look of terror before, when men he had known, confronted by sudden danger, had seen death facing them and became petrified by fear, unable to move a muscle.

‘Somebody’s coming already,’ cried Tom. ‘And Ma, she’s here as well.’

He waved to two men who were running towards them, one with a rope over his arm, followed more slowly by Maria.

Will didn’t turn round but kept his face towards Lizzie, calling encouragingly down to her.

‘We shall soon have thee up, don’t worry, Lizzie. There’s no need to be afeard.’ There was no use in asking her to try to move for if he startled her now, she might in a panic slip down into the sea which had completely covered the sand and was surging and breaking up the base of the cliff.

‘I’ll have to go down to her.’ The younger of the two men spoke. ‘She’s too scared to catch ’rope, and she might tummel over if she tried.’

He handed one end of the rope to Will, ‘If thee and me da will take my weight, I’ll go down just beyond her.’

Will turned to the other man and saw that it was the same one who had directed them to the barn on their arrival. They each took hold of the length of rope and Will wrapped the end around his waist, taking up the slack with his hands.

I’ll take ’strain,’ Will said, ‘I’m a deal heavier than thee.’

The man was not only thinner than Will but also a lot older and Will didn’t want him to injure himself.

‘He’ll get her alreet, will our Martin,’ said the other reassuringly. ‘He’s got feet like a goat.’

Surefootedly, and with barely a pull on the rope Martin eased himself down the cliff, testing each foothold before giving it his weight.

Will realized why he had made his way down beyond where Lizzie was standing, for at each step he took, a cascade of stones and sand slithered down before him, dropping with barely a splash into the surging water below.

As he reached Lizzie a change of expression came over her. Whereas she had stood before in stark terror, her eyes now moved frantically from side to side as she tried to see what was happening behind her.

‘It’s alreet, little lass, we’ll have thee up on top in no time at all.’

She shook at the sound of his voice so near, and her foot slipped as he moved towards her. Swiftly he put out a hand to catch her and she clung frantically to the rough tuft of grass.

‘Let go now, lovey, put thy arms around me.’

She shook her head, her eyes wide and frightened. She looked up at the top of the cliff and saw Maria anxiously looking down.

‘Do as he says, Lizzie, and tha’ll soon be up here.’

Again she shook her head, and then came a faint whisper which barely carried up to where they were waiting, ‘I want my ma.’

Not once since she had come to stay with them had Lizzie mentioned her mother, and Will and Maria had assumed that in the excitement of moving and with the constant companionship of Tom and Alice, Lizzie had not felt the loss. Now they looked at each other in dismay.

‘Poor little mite,’ Maria murmured, ‘and she never said.’

‘Come on then,’ said Martin. ‘I’ll take thee to thy ma.’ He picked her up bodily with one arm whilst he held on to the side of the cliff face with the other and put her thin light body over his shoulder. ‘We can’t stay here all neet. I want my supper.’

Chatting to her all the while, he carefully made his way back, this time making for the safety of some rough steps hewn into the side of the cliff.

‘See these steps?’ he said, panting with exertion. ‘Well, I made them, when I was just a nipper like thee. So next time tha comes down to ’sea, that’s ’way tha should come, or down ’village road.’

Will and Maria took hold of her as they reached the top and pulled her over.

‘Tha’s safe now,’ said Martin as he hauled himself over. ‘Here’s thy ma!’

Lizzie burst into tears as Maria enveloped her in a smother of hugs and kisses. ‘I want to go home,’ she sobbed. ‘I want my ma.’

‘Tha can’t go home, Lizzie, tha knows that. Stay with us till thy ma comes for thee. We want thee to stay with us.’ Maria looked with concern at the distraught child. ‘I’m relying on thee to help with ’babby when it comes.’

Lizzie gave a shaky smile at the prospect and then tearfully nodded her head.

Tom, who had been disdainfully watching this feminine show of emotion, came forward, his hands in the pockets of his soaking wet breeches.

‘Here, Lizzie, if tha’ll stay I’ll give thee my shrimps,’ and he pulled out of his bulging pockets a handful of bedraggled grey shrimps.

‘I dropped all of mine,’ she said tearfully as she put out her hand to take them. ‘We were going to bring them home for supper. Tom said we could cook them over ’fire.’

‘So tha can,’ said Will enthusiastically, ‘and maybe tomorrow we’ll all go down after we’ve finished our work, and we’ll net some more. We can eat in plenty here, there’s cod and dabs and even mackerel – food fit for nobility – and free.’

He looked down at Tom and Lizzie, who had caught his enthusiasm now that their fright was dissipating, and put an arm around them both. ‘But tha must learn to respect ’sea and all its moods, so first thing I will teach thee both is how to float and keep thy heads above water.’

Martin had been listening and nodded his head in agreement. ‘That’s ’best idea,’ he said. ‘And if tha comes over to see my lads, they’ll show thee ’best places for crabs. They know every inch of ’coastline round here and tha’ll be safe with them until tha gets used to it.’

Will thanked him for his help.

‘That’s all right,’ he answered gruffly, rather embarrassed. ‘There’s always somebody gets stuck just once. I did missen when I was just a bairn, that’s why me da here made me make them steps.’

He looked over the cliff and then scraped the cracked surface with his boot. ‘There’s no saying how long they’ll last, though. We lost over six feet last winter in ’storms.’

Maria took Tom and Lizzie by the hand, leaving the men talking, and hurried them back to Field House. They were both very wet and beginning to shiver with the cold. She took them inside and rubbed them down briskly with an old blanket and then tucked them both up into the large bed.

‘Stay there for a bit,’ she said, ‘until tha gets warm. We can’t have thee getting poorly now. Tomorrow we start at Garston Hall – getting it ready for ’Mastersons and we shall need both of thee to help.’

‘What shall I do, Ma?’ Tom sat up in excitement – at last he was going to work.

‘Tha’ll help thy fayther with repair jobs and fetching wood for fires and such like; and thee and me, Lizzie, we’ll have to see Mrs Scryven to find out what’s to be done, for I’m sure I shan’t know where to start.’

Mrs Scryven had it all planned, however, when they arrived in the kitchen of Garston Hall early the next morning.

‘I’m glad to see tha’s an early riser,’ she remarked as they knocked hesitatingly on the door.

Maria’s mouth watered as the aroma of freshly baked bread greeted her. Simmering gently on the fire was a large pan, its lid rising and rattling gently and emitting small puffs of steam, from which rose the aromatic smell of ham.

‘Sit down and sup.’ Mrs Scryven put out three bowls and spoons and poured out thick creamy porridge. She then added a generous helping of honey, stirring it in to leave thin golden trails which dribbled off the spoon.