Chapters (53)
- Cover
- Title page
- Dedication page
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Forty-three
- Forty-four
- Sow the Seed
- Reap the Harvest
- About the Author
- ALSO BY MARGARET DICKINSON
- Acknowledgements
- Copyright page
They sat down in the sand and she snuggled against him. He wrapped his arms around her and laid his cheek against her hair.
‘I couldn’t sleep last night,’ he said. ‘I stood at the window of my room in the Seagull, looking out towards your home.’
She giggled nervously. ‘I stood at me scullery window half the night watching the lane. I didn’t sleep a wink.’
He stroked her hair.
She rested her head on his chest. ‘We won’t quarrel ever again, will we, Jonathan?’ she murmured sleepily, for the sun was high and here in the hollow it was sheltered and warm. They lay back in the sand.
After the sleepless night tormenting herself that he no longer loved her, Esther just wanted to stay here safe and warm and happy for ever.
When they awoke the fickle sunshine had disappeared and a cold mist had crept in from the sea and surrounded them as they slept.
‘Jonathan – oh, whatever time must it be? There’s the milkin’ to do. And Kate will be looking for me!’ Esther scrambled to her feet and rushed headlong towards the twisting track which led back across the marsh and the dunes to the lane.
The mist swallowed her.
‘Esther – Esther, wait.’ He was instantly fully awake. ‘You’re going the wrong way. Esther!’
She could hear his voice but she could not see him. The mist swirled about her obliterating her sense of direction completely. ‘Jonathan,’ she shouted, ‘I can’t see you. Where are you?’
Suddenly Esther knew real fear. She had never been lost like this. She heard his voice just once more. ‘Now just stand still, Esther, and keep talking to me and I’ll come to you.’
There was silence.
‘Jonathan,’ she shouted. ‘Jonathan! Jonathan!’
There was no answering shout.
Twenty-six
ESTHER called his name until she was hoarse. She stumbled over thick tufts of grass, fell into sandy hollows, until she was almost weeping with fear. Her heart was pounding and her breathing painful. She ran first one way and then stopped, unsure, turned and ran another way. Prickly sea-buckthorn loomed out of the mist and scratched at her hands and forearms. She thought she had found the footpath which led back across the marshland to the lane and began to follow it, still calling his name all the time. She shivered in the dampness of the mist and yet she was sweating with fear.