The Harbour Girl by Val Wood Read Free Book Online Page B

charm of the West Riding folk who called her luv , the blunt tone of farmers’ wives from the North Yorkshire Moors, and the softer flatter style of the East Riding. All of us from Yorkshire, she mused, and all sounding so different.
    She put her head back and breathed in deeply, closing her eyes. A slight breeze fanned her face; the herring gulls were screeching overhead and she could hear their wings flapping as they swooped. They seemed to know when the visitors were here and spent more time searching for the titbits they threw for them than they did wheeling over the sea.
    A shadow fell across her face and she opened her eyes. Someone was standing over her and it wasn’t her mother. She put her hand to her forehead to see who it was. It was a man. A young one.
    ‘Sorry,’ he said, moving to one side. ‘Were you tekking a rest?’
    Jeannie picked up the twine again. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No time for that.’
    ‘Wish you’d mend my nets!’ His voice was teasing.
    ‘Bring them then and I will. For a price,’ she added, looking more closely at him. He wasn’t anyone she knew and he wasn’t wearing working clothes so she guessed he was a visitor.
    ‘Too far to come, though I reckon it’d be worth it.’ He grinned down at her and she smiled back.
    ‘How do you know?’
    He crouched down beside her and handled the net, brushing against her hand. ‘Looks pretty good to me.’
    ‘Are you an expert then?’ She gazed at him, so close to her. He was dark-haired and clean-shaven, with brown eyes and a smiling mouth, and as he stood up she saw he was of medium height and strong build. He was also weather-browned and she guessed he might be a fisherman, but not from round here.
    ‘Expert? Well, in a manner o’ speaking I am, not on mending nets but on filling ’em.’
    ‘Where are you from?’ she asked curiously. ‘Where do you fish from?’
    He continued to look at her and she turned her eyes away from his scrutiny and began working on the net. ‘Hull,’ he said. ‘That’s my home town and where I earn my living.’
    ‘Having a day off, are you?’
    ‘Aye. ’Ship’s being overhauled so I thought I’d tek ’train and come to Scarborough for ’day. I’ve not seen it from ’land side afore. I like it,’ he added. ‘Though I don’t reckon there’s much work when ’visitors have gone.’
    ‘There’s the fishing,’ she told him. ‘And the herring season.’
    ‘Oh aye, I know that. Are you a herring girl?’
    ‘I am.’
    ‘Can you gut?’
    She looked up at him. ‘What a lot of questions. Course I can!’
    He grinned. ‘I’m just considering whether you’d mek me a suitable wife.’
    She gasped at his cheek and put down her mending. ‘I’m not old enough,’ she said pertly. ‘Even if I wanted to. I’m not yet sixteen.’
    He appeared to consider. ‘Will you tek a walk wi’ me later on? What time do you finish?’
    Jeannie looked towards the quayside and saw her mother coming back. ‘Not till about six.’
    ‘You didn’t say no, then?’ He grinned. ‘So will you?’
    She licked her lips. ‘Dunno.’ Should I? she thought. ‘All right then. Do you … erm, do you know where the Grand Hotel is?’
    He laughed. ‘Oh aye!’ He winked. ‘I stop there every year! Where is it?’
    ‘You can’t miss it,’ she said, glancing again towards her mother, who had stopped to speak to somebody. ‘Walk back down to the end of the Foreshore Road and it’s the biggest building you’ll see; it’s got four domes and is set back on St Nicholas Cliff. I’ll meet you near the entrance, about half past six.’
    He hesitated for a minute. ‘You will come?’ he said. ‘It’s just that I’ve to get ’train back at ten past eight.’
    She swallowed. She felt strangely excited. ‘I’ll come.’
    I didn’t ask his name, she thought as he left. She felt rather guilty as her mother came back and sat by her side.
    ‘Everything all right?’ Mary asked.
    ‘Yes.’ Jeannie put down her net.