CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘What ’you doing here? Have you come on Dobbin? Why didn’t you bring ’cart? Does Billy Fowler know you’re here?’ Daisy was amazed to see Ted and also very pleased; she wanted to hug him but didn’t as she knew how embarrassed he would be.

Ted shook his head. He was immensely relieved to see her. ‘I don’t know where Fowler is.’ He felt a slow flush rise up from his neck to his face as he lied. ‘Dobbin came back on his own. Where’s Ma?’

‘I don’t know,’ she confessed. ‘Somebody came and took her away to some place. But she’s coming back,’ she assured him. ‘She said that she would.’

‘So where are you stopping?’ Ted stared at his sister. She was too young to be on her own.

‘Oh!’ Daisy put her hand to her mouth as she remembered Mr Walker. ‘Wait here for me, Ted,’ she said urgently. ‘I’ve just got to dash back and tell Mr Walker I’ve done his errand. No, I know. Come wi’ me.’ She beckoned eagerly. ‘You can wait outside ’shop.’

‘Have you got a job o’ work?’

‘No. I’ll tell you in a minute. Come on, I’ve got to be quick.’

She led the way down by the side of the church to where a square opened up. ‘Wait here,’ she said. ‘You can sit on ’church wall till I come back. You will, won’t you?’ she said anxiously. ‘You won’t go away?’

‘No, I won’t. Is there any chance o’ summat to eat, Daisy? I’m starving hungry. I’ve had nowt but a bit o’ sausage since yesterday.’

‘I’ll ask Molly,’ she said before dashing away, leaving him wondering who Molly was, and how it was that his young sister knew these people and could find her way round the town after such a short time.

He had to wait ten minutes to find out. He watched the shop door where she had run in and presently it opened, a man looked out and across at him, and then Daisy came out holding a plate and a cup.

The cup held milk which he drank straight down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when he had finished. The plate held a slice of meat pie, still warm and running with gravy.

‘It’s what we had for our dinner,’ Daisy told him as he took a bite. ‘They eat ever so well at ’Walkers’ house. We had a treacle pudding but there’s none left. Oliver ate ’last bit.’

‘Who’s Oliver?’ Ted spoke with his mouth full.

‘Their son. He’s sixteen and going to be a chemist like his da.’ She sat next to Ted on the wall and clutched her chin in her hands. ‘I hope I can stay here,’ she said. ‘When Ma comes back, I mean. She lost her babby,’ she told him.

‘Lost it?’ he said. ‘How come?’

‘I mean it wasn’t born alive,’ she explained patiently. ‘It was too little. I didn’t see it cos ’midwife took it away. But Molly said that it was too young to be born.’

‘Oh!’ Ted said. ‘Do you mean like that ewe of John Ward’s that aborted a lamb, or when that kitten was born dead?’

‘I think it was aborted,’ she said seriously, nodding her head. ‘That’s what Molly told Cook when she thought I wasn’t listening. She said there was no wonder when Ma had been tied up. She said if she’d had a husband like that she’d have swung for him.’

Ted swallowed hard, and felt the pie lodge like a stone in his chest. ‘Tied up? What happened?’ he asked. ‘What did Fowler do to her?’

Daisy told him in great detail and with some embellishments what had happened after their arrival in Hull. ‘And then this man came along and said he would buy her and then when he saw she was expecting he changed his mind, onny it was too late cos he’d already given Billy Fowler the money and he’d scarpered.’ She took a deep breath and continued, ‘I expect Billy was scared of what Ma might do to him if she caught him, but by then she was feeling right bad and we were trying to find somebody to help us.’

She told him what had happened at the Walkers’, and then started to cry. ‘I was that frightened, cos I thought that Ma might die and what would I have done then, cos I couldn’t have found my way back to Seathorne. Not that I would have wanted to go back to him anyway!’

Ted put his arm round her in an unexpected show of affection. ‘It’s a rum do, Daisy, and no mistake, but you’ll be all right once Ma gets back from where Mrs Walker sent her. I suppose she did it for ’best,’ he said, for Daisy had confided that she thought Mrs Walker didn’t want her mother in their house any longer than necessary. ‘And she didn’t know our ma, after all. It’s a bit tricky tekking in a stranger; especially if you’ve got some money ’n’ that and you don’t know if they’ll pinch it.’

‘I know.’ Daisy wiped away a tear. ‘And Mr Walker and Oliver have been really nice to me and let me help them in ’shop; I suppose that was so I didn’t get in Mrs Walker’s way, though I’ve done a bit o’ dusting as well.’

‘You’ve earned your keep then,’ Ted said. ‘You’ve not been a burden to ’em. Listen, Daisy. I’m going to tell you summat. I wasn’t going to but I think I’d better; onny you’ve to promise not to tell anybody but our ma when she comes back, otherwise it’s ’end of me.’

He scratched his chin, which was beginning to grow dark and slightly bristly, though as yet he had never had to shave. ‘I told you that I hadn’t seen Fowler, didn’t I? Well, to begin with, ’hoss came back on its own, but later on … later on, Fowler did come back. He was fair staggering. I thought he was drunk onny he wasn’t; he said that he’d had to leave ’cart somewhere cos it had got stuck and Dobbin had bolted and he’d had to walk back. It took him a long time, I think, cos he’s not very fit. And then …’ He hesitated, unsure of whether he should tell the truth. ‘Then he telled me that he’d sold Ma in Hull Market Place, and I was that mad I hit him.’

‘Did you, Ted?’ Daisy’s eyes shone with excitement. ‘Did you really?’

‘Aye.’ He nodded, pressing his lips together. ‘I did. And then we had a fight. And then … well, neither of us noticed where we were going and it was that wet and clarty on ’cliff top we were slithering about all over ’place.’ He turned to look at her. ‘And then he went ower. Fell ower ’cliff and into ’sea. I didn’t mean it to happen,’ he said earnestly. ‘And if there hadn’t been a high tide he’d have been all right and just landed on ’sands. But there was, and – and he must have been swept away cos I couldn’t see him.’

Daisy stared open-mouthed at her brother. ‘So,’ she breathed, ‘is he – is he dead?’

Ted hunched his shoulders up to his ears. ‘Dunno. I suppose so. Drowned. He must be. Tide was running high. A spring surge, I think. Anyway, that’s not all. I decided that I’d leave in case anybody found his body and thought I’d done him in, when really it was an accident; and I was just riding away on ’owd hoss when I heard this crash, and when I looked back I saw that ’cliff in front of ’cottage had slithered ower and ’front door was swinging ower ’edge.’ He paused for breath. ‘So I reckon it’ll all have gone ower by now and folks’ll think that’s how Fowler died – if they ever find him.’

Daisy said nothing for a moment but sat pondering. Then she said in a small voice, ‘I’m not sorry. I didn’t like him.’ She turned to look at Ted. ‘But do you think you’d be blamed for it? Cos I’d swear that you wouldn’t ever do owt like that!’

‘But you weren’t there, Daisy,’ he said miserably. ‘So you wouldn’t know.’ He handed her the empty plate which he had been clutching. ‘So I’ll have to leave. Run away to sea where nobody’ll know me.’

‘But what about Dobbin?’ she asked, stroking the horse’s neck. ‘What’ll you do about him?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said irritably. ‘I’ve got more to think about than ’blooming owd hoss!’

They both sat in silence for a few minutes, then Daisy said, ‘You could sell him to ’gypsies. I saw them in ’market when we first came.’

‘What?’ Ted raised his head to look at her. ‘Are you still on about ’damned hoss?’ Apologetically he patted Dobbin’s neck.

‘It’s just that you’ll need some money,’ she said, ‘and you can’t tek him with you if you’re going to sea, and me and Ma won’t want him cos we’ll have to find work.’

He saw the sense in what she was saying although he wouldn’t have admitted it. ‘I can’t wait till next market day,’ he groused. ‘I’ll have to be off today.’

‘There’s Oliver,’ she said suddenly. ‘Let’s ask him.’ Before he could stop her she was running across the square to catch Oliver before he went inside the shop.

‘This is my brother,’ she told him, bringing him across, and Ted stood up from the wall and nodded to him. ‘He’s going to sea and needs to sell our old horse. Where do you think he should go?’

Oliver looked doubtfully at Dobbin. ‘I don’t think you’ll get much for him,’ he said. ‘Does he pull a rully or—’

‘Aye, he’s a good strong hoss,’ Ted was quick to point out. ‘He’s a bit thin, I know, but he’s got stamina. He’s good for a few years yet.’

Oliver scratched his dark head. ‘There’s a horse dealer in Dagger Lane, or there’s the gypsies …’

‘See, I told you,’ Daisy said to Ted. ‘But he can’t wait until market day,’ she explained to Oliver.

‘He doesn’t need to. They camp on Dock Green. I’ll take you if you like,’ he told Ted. ‘It’s not far.’

Ted agreed, and whilst Oliver slipped back to tell his father where he was going he mused that he would rather sell Dobbin to the gypsies, because the horse dealer might ask questions about where the horse had come from. And, he thought, with a tension tightening inside him, the horse wasn’t really his to sell as it had belonged to Billy Fowler.

Daisy came too, walking between the two boys and glancing up from time to time at each of them. Ted walked with his head down, looking at his boots and leading Dobbin by the reins, but Oliver walked tall and told them about Dock Green. ‘It’s used for all kinds of events,’ he said as they went along the Market Place and towards Castle Street. ‘People like to walk there on a Sunday to hear the speakers giving out their opinions, and then in October the Hull Fair comes and pitches there. You’d like that, Daisy.’ He looked down at her, smiling. ‘It’s great fun. The gypsies camp on the edge of Dock Green and most of them leave after the fair is over, but some stay and they buy and sell horses.’

The grassy area was mostly empty with just a few schoolboys kicking a ball about, but pitched right on the edge were a few tents, or benders as Oliver called them. Several horses and ponies were tied up to stakes in the ground, and there were small cooking fires burning.

‘We have a horse to sell,’ Oliver said to a man who came out of one of the benders. ‘Are you interested?’

The gypsy shook his head and Oliver turned away, but the gypsy called him back. ‘How much d’you want for him? He’s no flesh on him.’

‘He’s wiry and strong,’ Ted told him. ‘He’s a good worker.’

The man came and ran his hands over Dobbin’s flanks and then opened his mouth to look inside. ‘Give you five shillings,’ he said.

Ted and Oliver both gave a dry laugh, whilst Daisy gave a gasp. ‘He’s worth more’n that,’ she said.

‘No thanks,’ Ted said testily. ‘I’m not giving him away!’

‘Don’t be in a hurry,’ Oliver muttered to him. ‘They like to bargain. How much are you willing to take?’

‘Dunno,’ Ted grunted. ‘But more’n five bob.’

‘A guinea?’ Oliver murmured, and when Ted nodded he told the gypsy, ‘We want twenty-one shillings for him. We’ll ask one of the others.’ He’d noticed two other men watching, one of them smoking a pipe and listening and the other, a younger man, eyeing up the horse.

‘Seven and sixpence then,’ the first gypsy said, and when Oliver shook his head offered another shilling. Oliver refused again, and the younger of the other gypsies came over.

‘I’ll give you ten bob for him,’ he said. ‘He looks sound.’

Daisy gave a sigh. That’s what the man had paid for her mother. Surely she was worth more than an old horse.

The first man started to object. ‘This is my deal,’ he said, shaking his fist.

‘Twelve and six then,’ Oliver told him, ‘otherwise we sell to your friend here.’

‘Twelve shillings. My last offer,’ the gypsy said.

Oliver glanced at the second gypsy, who shrugged and turned away. He looked at Ted, who nodded. ‘Aye, all right,’ he said reluctantly. ‘I’d mebbe not get more from ’horse dealer.’

The gypsy counted out the money from his pocket. ‘The saddle and blanket?’ he said. ‘They come with the hoss?’

‘You can have ’saddle,’ Ted agreed, ‘but not ’blanket. I might need that.’

‘You’ll look after him, won’t you?’ Daisy asked the gypsy, stroking Dobbin for the last time. The man smiled, his teeth white against his dark skin. He patted her fair head. ‘Don’t you worry, little chavi. He’ll have a nice time with the Romanies. We know how to look after our hosses.’

Oliver turned round to look at the gypsies as they walked away. ‘They’re in cahoots,’ he told Ted. ‘There’s money changing hands. They’ve got a bargain between them.’

‘Aye.’ Ted shrugged. ‘I guessed he was worth more, but I can’t afford to wait.’

‘Why the hurry?’ Oliver asked curiously.

‘I’ve nowhere to live, and no money,’ Ted answered. ‘That’s why I’m going to try for a ship.’

‘But you’ve no experience? Did – erm, did your stepfather want rid of you too?’

‘Yeh,’ Ted answered vaguely. ‘At least, he allus did; but he didn’t come back and now ’cottage has fallen into ’sea.’

‘Fallen into the sea!’ Oliver looked amazed. ‘Why? How?’

‘It’s been standing on ’edge of ’cliff ever since we went to live there,’ Daisy interjected. ‘Ma was allus afraid of it going over with us in it. It’s ’erosion,’ she explained. ‘Most of ’village has gone over, even ’vicarage. But they’re building some new houses further back for when ’railway line comes to Withernsea,’ she finished, pleased to be able to impart some knowledge.

Ted grunted. ‘If it comes,’ he said. ‘Why would folk want to come to that miserable place?’

‘Cos of fresh air,’ she said indignantly. ‘And for town bairns to play on ’sands.’

Oliver laughed. ‘And to see the sea! I’ve never seen it. If the railway goes to Withernsea I’ll definitely go, Daisy, and perhaps you’d come with me to show me the sights?’

She gazed adoringly at him. The railway line wouldn’t be coming for ages. It was only being talked about. But if Oliver meant what he said, then it implied that they would still be friends. She nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said huskily. ‘Course I will.’

‘Well I’ll not be here,’ Ted said, lifting his chin in a determined manner. ‘I’ll be sailing on ’sea by then, and not just ’German Ocean either. I’ll be on other seas as well; sailing round ’world.’