Free A Safe Harbour by Benita Brown

sitting bolt upright on the bed mouthing barely articulate sounds. When she saw Kate, Sarah clutched her shawl tightly with one hand and with the other she pointed towards the floor where Nan was struggling to rise.  
    ‘Wait, I’ll help you.’ Kate knelt down and grasped her mother’s arms. The two of them rose together. When they were standing Kate searched her mother’s face. There was a red mark under one eye. ‘He punched you.’  
    ‘Aye. But go and settle Sarah. Tell her I’m fine.’  
    Kate was reluctant to leave her mother, but her great-grandmother had started whimpering like a frightened child. Kate went over to the bed and took hold of Sarah’s hands, little claw-like things with painfully thin fingers. They were trembling. Kate held them in her own and whispered soothingly that everything was all right, until, eventually, the old woman settled back amongst her pillows. Kate pulled the blanket up over her lap and went back to her mother, who had turned to lean with both hands on the table. Kate was aware that the old woman was following her movements with watery eyes. As they were always rheumy it was hard to tell whether she was crying.  
    ‘What was it this time?’ Kate asked.  
    Nan Lawson looked over her shoulder at her and shook her head, wincing at the movement. ‘Yer da’s angered with William and Thomas.’  
    Kate was surprised. If her mother had told her that her father had found another reason to be dissatisfied with Kate’s own behaviour that would have been nothing new. But since her brothers had grown to young manhood, Henry Lawson had settled into an uneasy truce with them. He needed his sons to crew the coble and he sensed that they were not in as much awe of him as they used to be.  
    ‘My brothers? What have they done? And why blame you?’  
    Her mother pushed herself away from the table and turned to face Kate. ‘I might as well tell you, he told them not to go to the funeral yesterday. He thinks it’s my fault they defied him.’  
    ‘Why your fault? Doesn’t he think they’ve got minds of their own?’  
    ‘Apparently not. He thinks I encouraged them because . . . because . . .’  
    ‘What are you trying to say?’  
    ‘Because of you. He thinks I’m too soft with you and that I let you get all your own way.’  
    ‘I see.’ Kate reflected fleetingly that this was twice today that a member of her family had suggested that she got her own way. It made her uncomfortable to think that this caused problems for her mother. ‘Oh, Ma, will it ever change?’  
    Her mother managed a smile. ‘You or your father, do you mean?’ Then the smile faded when she heard Kate’s suppressed sob. ‘If you mean your father, no, Henry will never change.’  
    ‘I thought it might be better for you once I was married. Once I’d left home. And now . . . now . . .’  
    ‘Don’t torment yourself, pet. Once you’d gone he’d hev found something else to displease him. Look at today – he’s turning on William and Thomas.’  
    ‘But only because he thinks they came to the funeral to please me.’ The two women stared at each other in despair. ‘Go and sit by the fire,’ Kate said. ‘I’ll make a cup of tea.’  
    ‘Aye, pet. We’ll sit for a while.’  
    When her mother started to walk away from her Kate noticed something lying on the floor. It was her father’s tobacco pouch. She stooped to pick it up and place it on the table and that same feeling of dizziness overcame her. I need sleep, she thought.  
    The kettle was on the hob. Her mother used the poker to push it further towards the burning coals. It began to steam. ‘Leave it,’ Kate said. ‘Sit down. I’ll do everything. But first I’ll get you a wet rag to hold to that eye.’  
    Kate crossed to the sink and stooped to move aside the flowered curtain strung on a wire below the bench. She took one of the clean rags that her mother stored on the shelf there and then rose to turn on the tap.