Free A Safe Harbour by Benita Brown Page A

As the cold water gushed into the sink it splashed onto her face and she realized how hot she felt; not burning heat, just warm and clammy. The feeling of nausea returned and she put her hands on the cool edge of the stone sink and leaned forward, eyes closed, to steady herself. She was still clutching the rag and she had some idea of holding it under the tap and using it to cool her own brow when, without warning, she felt her stomach heave.  
    ‘Kate, what’s the matter?’ she heard her mother ask, but she couldn’t answer as she found herself emptying the contents of her meagre breakfast into the sink. When the spasm was over she tried to right herself, but she felt her knees give way. Then, before she could sink to the floor, her mother’s arms came round her. Gratefully Kate leaned back against Nan.  
    ‘Oh, Kate, me bairn,’ she heard her mother groan. ‘What hev you done?’  
    Her mother led her to a chair and made her sit down. Kate sat miserably clutching the damp rag and twisting it round and round while her mother made the tea. Nan placed the teapot and the cups on the table, but before she sat down herself she busied herself mixing something in a bowl. ‘Lard and vinegar,’ she said, although Kate hadn’t asked. ‘Smells nasty but if I smear it on me cheek it might stop the bruising.’  
    She put the bowl on the table and, avoiding Kate’s eyes, she began to dab the foul-smelling concoction on her face.  
    ‘I’m sorry, Ma,’ Kate whispered.  
    ‘Tell me what I suspect isn’t true,’ her mother said. ‘Tell me that you’re just upset and weary.’  
    ‘I wish I could.’ And then, as her mother poured the tea and pushed a cup across the table towards her, she whispered, ‘I was supposed to be doing that.’  
    ‘Aye, you were.’ Her mother’s voice seemed devoid of all tenderness and Kate felt a stab of anguish.  
    ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered again, and this time she wasn’t talking about Nan’s bruised face, ‘but I thought you would never have to know.’  
    ‘Are you far gone?’  
    ‘I’ve only just missed.’  
    ‘Then you’d probably have got away with it. Did Jos know?’  
    ‘No. Oh, poor Jos . . .’  
    ‘ Poor Jos? What do you mean, poor Jos? He should hev behaved himself till you were wed.’  
    ‘I know. But I’m to blame as well, aren’t I? He didn’t force me’.  
    ‘Kate . . .’ Her mother glanced across at the old woman but Sarah had closed her eyes and seemed to be sleeping.  
    ‘No, listen, Mother. I knew the risk we were taking. But I loved Jos so and the nearer it got to the wedding the more persuasive he became. He made me feel I was being cruel to deny him. Oh, please don’t look at me like that. I know it was wrong.’  
    ‘I divven’t know about wrong – although the minister would say so. No, what you did was plain daft. Now look at the trouble you’re in.’  
    ‘But we didn’t know this was going to happen, did we? And Jos said that we loved each other, so what we did wasn’t a sin.’  
    ‘There you are! And you’re trying to tell me he wasn’t to blame!’  
    ‘Ma, please stop. It’s done. I can’t change things, and I said poor Jos because I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t tell him, but if I had told him he’d have been happy.’  
    ‘Happy!’  
    ‘Yes, of course he would. That’s what we get married for, isn’t it? To have children? And now my poor Jos is drowned and he never knew that he was going to be a father. Oh, Ma, I can’t bear it!’  
    For a moment neither of them spoke. In the hearth the wet coal hissed and spat. Her mother spoke without looking at her. ‘I love you, Kate,’ she said. ‘I love all me bairns but, God forgive me, you’ve been special, with your bonny looks and your bold ways.’  
    ‘I know you’ve always stood up for me,’ Kate said, ‘and I’m grateful.’  
    Her mother sighed. ‘But I don’t know how I can help you this time.’ She was silent for a