The Hungry Tide (16 page)

‘Don’t thee worry about that,’ the man replied. ‘We have to help each other out here, or we don’t get by.’

He looked at the bits of furniture in the back of the cart. ‘I reckon tha’s going to Monkston, to work at Garston Hall?’

Will and Maria looked at each other. News travelled fast, it seemed.

The man caught the look and smiled knowingly. ‘There’s nowt much happens around here that folk don’t get to know about. Trouble is,’ he went on, suddenly finding his tongue, ‘nowt much happens, so if somebody dies or has a babby,’ he looked significantly at Maria, ‘or flits and moves on, then ’news keeps ’women’s jaws moving for weeks.’

He helped Maria into the cart. ‘I’ll go with thee as far as Ol’bro’,’ he pointed up the road with his stick, ‘and give ’other childre a ride. Monkston’s not so far from there. Tha should be there afore nightfall.’

By degrees they finally arrived in the old village of Aldbrough, where their companion, who didn’t offer his name, or ask theirs, left them.

‘Keep going ’till tha gets to Tillington,’ he called as he moved off towards the inn. ‘Then go down ’road towards ’sea. It’s a bit rough and snaggy in places, but tha’ll get there alreet.’

They could see the square tower of the grey stone church of Tillington at the top of a hill as they approached from the winding road, a scattering of houses and barns surrounding it.

Maria got out of the cart to stretch her legs and walked up towards the church. It looked to her very ancient, and here and there the crumbling stonework was supported by rocks and boulders. It had a trim, neat churchyard and the small number of graves reflected the size and population of the hamlet.

As she stood quietly reflecting and looking down at the earthy mounds, she became aware of a strange sensation creeping over her. An image of her dead mother came to mind; her mother who, it had been whispered, was ‘fey’, and could see what others could not. A muffled roaring filled her ears and her body seemed to be getting lighter. She felt a great wind buffeting and lifting her off her feet and with a sudden cry she bent double as if to protect her unborn child.

‘Maria – Maria! What is it? It’s not thy time, is it?’

From far off through a mist she could see Will’s anxious face and felt the support of his arms. She gave a sudden shudder and shook her head. ‘I’m all right,’ she answered weakly. ‘I just felt a bit strange, and I heard a roaring in my head. A ghost walking over my grave, that’s all.’

‘Don’t talk like that, Maria.’ Will’s voice was sharp. ‘Tha knows I don’t like it. It’s been too much for thee, travelling all this way. I should have sent thee on ’carrier’s waggon, it would have been more comfortable than in this old crate. Or if we could have afforded ’coach—!’

‘Well, we can’t, it’s not for ’likes of us. Let’s get on, I shall be all right now.’

They helped her back into the cart and Lizzie solicitously padded the blankets behind her so that she could rest more easily. They moved off on the last lap of their journey down the narrow track into the village of Monkston.

Garston Hall was set back from the village and approached by a long winding drive, and heavy iron entrance gates loomed large above them as they approached. The village meandered down a rutted road towards the sea and had, in some time past, enjoyed prosperity, judging by the number of thatched houses and farmsteads. It had an inn, and a fine church close to the sea, but some of the houses were now empty and derelict, their front doors swinging and creaking between the mud and chalk walls.

‘There’s folk watching us, Fayther,’ whispered Tom.

‘Well, what of it?’ his father replied. ‘Wouldn’t tha do ’same if tha saw strangers coming?’ He too had seen the shadows of faces looking out from some of the doors and windows as they passed by.

As they drew up by the gates, hesitating as to which way to enter, a man came down the road from the sea leading a cow on a long rope.

He stopped and looked at them. ‘Tha’ll be new folk for Garston?’

‘That’s right,’ said Will. ‘Is this ’road we should take?’

‘Aye, it is, but tha’s not expected yet. Ma Scryven said tha was due tomorrow.’

‘Who’s Ma Scryven?’ Will was perplexed. ‘We were told to come today.’

‘She’s looking after ’house for ’time being. She’d find thee somewhere to stay, only she’s over at Tillington, tending to somebody what’s sick.’

‘Is there somewhere to rest now? ’Bairns are weary,’ Maria interrupted. ‘They’ve walked from Hull.’

The man stared at the children. ‘That’s a good walk,’ he said. ‘Tha needs a pair o’ strong legs for that. I went to Hull once.’ He leant on the back of the cow. ‘Didn’t like it, though. It were full of villains and drunkards, and somebody stole what bit o’ money I had.’ He stood silently shaking his head. ‘I nivver went back. Nor shall I.’

He stared at them thoughtfully as if assessing which category they fell into. ‘Tha could stay in ’old barn that’s on Garston land – just for tonight. It’s dry and warm, then Ma Scryven will fix thee up tomorrow.’

The stone barn was set in a sheltered corner of a field and was warm and welcoming, with a rich smell of ripe apples and hay. Maria flopped down in exhaustion, her body aching from the jarring and shaking of the cart.

‘I couldn’t go another step, Will. My legs wouldn’t carry me.’ She made herself a hollow in a pile of hay and stretched out. ‘I’m sorry, but tha’ll all have to fend for tha selves. There’s bread in a basket and there must be water nearby.’

Lizzie came up with a blanket and covered her over. ‘I’ll see to things, Maria. Don’t worry. Try to get some rest now.’

Maria smiled at the earnest child as she gazed at her. She was a good girl, shy and nervous except when she was doing something for someone else.

‘We must all try and get some rest, Lizzie, so that we’re ready for what the morning brings.’

Will came and sat by her. The children forgot their aching feet and tiredness, and were soon exploring the far corners of the barn, rolling in the mound of straw that was stacked almost up to the beams at the back of it.

‘Well, we’re here, Maria.’ He looked down at her, elation growing inside him.

‘Aye.’ She turned her head away.

‘What’s up, lass?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m that scared, Will.’ She stared up at him anxiously. ‘It’s that bleak and desolate. I’m not used to so much space.’ She shivered. ‘It’s all that much bigger than me.’

‘Tha’ll soon get used to it.’ He smiled down and bent to kiss her. ‘Tomorrow it’ll all seem better. ’Bairns will grow strong here. We’ll maybe never have much, but we’ll have good clean air which’ll cost us nowt – we’ll not get diseased!’ He could see that she was still unconvinced, but her eyes were beginning to close with sleep. ‘And maybe one day, ‘I’ll take thee back.’

Gently he stroked her cheek, and then turned away with a sigh. He had wanted her to share the passion which he felt, the excitement growing inside him as he had watched the vastness of the landscape unroll before him on his journey here, and ending at the foot of the waters of the sea.

Telling the children that he wouldn’t be long, he went outside and, carefully manoeuvring his crutch in the short tufted grass, walked in the gathering darkness across the field towards the sea. The salt smell gripped his nostrils, and he laughed aloud at the sound of the surf as it crashed against the cliffs.

He felt the untamed wildness wrap round him, challenging him, and he responded. He wanted to run headlong into the wind; to defy nature; to spurn danger. He wanted to make passionate love to Maria, as he always used to when he came home from the sea, when their joy and desire overwhelmed them. And he felt that, cripple though he was, out here was a challenge he could face. He turned to the sea in defiance, his shock of red hair blowing wildly in the wind, gazing past the mass of grey water which thundered and broke beneath the clay cliffs, throwing up frothy white spume, out to the boundless horizon, and raising his arms up to the sky, his fists clenched in triumph, with a mighty primitive cry answered the call.

Mrs Scryven assessed the situation immediately she put her head round the barn door the next morning. Her bright birdlike eyes picked out Maria lying motionless on the hay, with Lizzie anxiously watching her. Tom, covered in dust, had made himself a burrow in the straw, whilst Alice was sitting in a corner, her eyes and nose streaming, coughing and crying quietly to herself.

‘This won’t do,’ she said. ‘This won’t do at all.’ She opened wide the barn door and the bright morning sunlight streamed in, making them blink.

‘I’m sorry—’ began Maria. ‘I don’t feel too good. My legs—’ She broke off and tried to sit up.

‘Stay right there, my lovely, don’t thee dare move. Ma Scryven will put thee right.’

She beckoned to Tom. ‘Come here, young scallibrat.’

Tom, recognizing the voice of authority when he heard it, obeyed immediately, brushing himself down perfunctorily as he did so.

‘First thing tha learns in ’country, is that tha doesn’t play games with winter fodder. In ’summer tha can have a grand time sliding down ’stacks, but come rain and snow, when neither we nor beasts have owt to eat, then we’re glad of a well kept harvest.’

She picked Alice up from the floor. ‘Now, take ’young ’un outside away from ’dust, and go find thy fayther and fetch him to me.’

‘He’s gone for water,’ volunteered Lizzie, afraid that they were all going to get a sound ticking off from this small round body who was enveloped in a crisp white apron with not a hair showing from underneath her bonnet.

Mrs Scryven came across to where Maria was lying. Gently she placed a hand on her forehead, then with care she put her other hand beneath the blanket and softly pressed Maria’s abdomen. She stood for a moment, her eyes closed, breathing deeply, then she opened her eyes and smiled, her wizened brown face warm and sunny, as if deep inside a light was glowing.

‘She’ll do fine,’ she breathed. ‘Just rest today and tomorrow, and ’babby will be all right.’

Maria prayed that she was right, for all night she had been racked with pain and cramps in her legs. She’d told Will, when she was unable to sleep, that now she knew something of what he had suffered during his ordeal. He spoke then of the fact that not once had she turned away from him, never ever showing by look or word that his disfigurement repulsed her.

‘Tha’s still ’same man I married, Will,’ she’d whispered in the darkness. ‘Still ’same one as I yearned for when I was just a young wench, and thee a grown man and never noticing me.’

‘Will tha be all right for a bit, if I tek ’bairns with me?’ Mrs Scryven looked down at her. ‘Then I’ll bring thee some gruel.’

She gathered up Alice and Lizzie, one on each hand, and marched them off across the fields towards Garston Hall, where a short while later Will and Tom found them seated at a long scrubbed table in the kitchen, tucking into a dish of steaming gruel.

The previous owners of Garston Hall had not been mean when they had fitted out the kitchen. A brick-built fireplace with a large iron cooking range with fire bars and spit racks within it, dominated one end of the room, with a complement of fire irons, pans and kettles hanging within easy reach. The heat from the fire burning there and the mouth-watering aroma of game and herbs reached Will and Tom as they hesitated by the door.

‘Sit thee down.’ Mrs Scryven pointed to the bench. ‘Tha can’t work on an empty belly.’ She poured the thick, glutinous liquid into two bowls and slid them across the table towards them.

‘Now I’ll go and see to thy missus.’ She stared sternly at Will. ‘If she’s to keep ’babby, she’s to stay where she is for ’next few days.’

She sat down on a stool facing him. ‘Tha’s been given farmstead in East Field – Field House. It’s not very grand, but ’roof is sound and ’rent is cheap, leastways that’s what I’m told, and I’m only passing ’message on from ’agent. So tha can get moved in and made comfortable afore thy missus is up and about.’

With that pronouncement she heaved herself off the stool and proceeded to heat a pan of milk on the fire, which she poured into the gruel, stirring it until the viscous mass was smooth and creamy. They watched her, the motion of spoon to mouth never wavering as they ate hungrily, as she added some white grains from a jar, mixing them patiently until they were absorbed. She picked up her basket and carefully placed the dish of gruel into it, covering it over with a clean cloth.

‘I’m much obliged to thee,’ said Will as she turned towards the door. ‘If there’s owt I can do for thee, tha only has to say.’

‘I dare say there’ll be plenty of jobs that I’ll think on,’ she answered. ‘I’ve no man around, and though I can fend for missen, there’s time’s when a bit of brute strength is needed.’

She left them with instructions not to dally around all the morning, but then poked her head back round the door, her shrewd eyes gleaming, to say to Lizzie to make sure that all the gruel was eaten up as she couldn’t abide waste.

It took them two days to sweep out and prepare the farmhouse before Mrs Scryven deemed it fit to live in. The last tenants, she said, had had to move away to seek work in the town, leaving the building empty since last Martinmas.

‘It’s funny tha’s brought thy family here, when most folks are moving out of ’country.’ Mrs Scryven watched Will as he carefully jointed some discarded pieces of elm which he had found leaning up against a wall.

‘I’ll work wherever work is,’ he answered her. ‘I can’t sail any more and though I’m no farmer I like it here. ’Sea’s in my blood so I’m happy to be within sight and sound of it.’

Tom and Lizzie ran to them. ‘Can I go down to ’sea, Fayther? I want to catch a fish.’

Will laughed. ‘Aye, tha can try.’

‘Can I go too?’ Lizzie was still shy and nervous with Will even though he did his best to put her at her ease. ‘Everything’s done inside.’

‘Go on then, but make sure tha watches for ’tide!’

‘Me too, me too,’ said Alice. ‘I want to catch a fish.’

‘No, tha’ll fall down ’cliff,’ said Mrs Scryven. ‘Stay with me and we’ll bake some bramble tart.’

Alice took Mrs Scryven’s hand and they watched as Tom and Lizzie ran swift as young hares across the field towards the cliffs, and heard their shrieks as they clambered down.