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Back Plough the Furrow Save as PDF
Chapters (53)
  1. Cover
  2. Title page
  3. Dedication page
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-one
  25. Twenty-two
  26. Twenty-three
  27. Twenty-four
  28. Twenty-five
  29. Twenty-six
  30. Twenty-seven
  31. Twenty-eight
  32. Twenty-nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-one
  35. Thirty-two
  36. Thirty-three
  37. Thirty-four
  38. Thirty-five
  39. Thirty-six
  40. Thirty-seven
  41. Thirty-eight
  42. Thirty-nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty-one
  45. Forty-two
  46. Forty-three
  47. Forty-four
  48. Sow the Seed
  49. Reap the Harvest
  50. About the Author
  51. ALSO BY MARGARET DICKINSON
  52. Acknowledgements
  53. Copyright page

Will shifted uneasily from one foot to the other and twisted his hat round and round in fidgeting fingers. ‘I’ll get off, lass, if ya dun’t mind. There’s something I’ve – er to see to, like.’ He glanced at Ma Harris, who grinned and nodded.

‘You get off, Will. He’ll be back again afore you know it, lass.’

Esther felt a stab of disappointment. This had been such a lovely day and she didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want to let Will – of all people – go. Oh well, she supposed, his next call on Tuesday wasn’t so long away.

‘Goodbye, Mrs Harris,’ Will was saying, ‘and thank ’ee for asking me. It’s been a grand wedding.’

Ma beamed broadly, nodding her head towards him as if sharing a secret. ‘Mebbe it won’t be the last, eh? Goodbye, Will. We’ll be seeing ya again very soon, eh?’

Esther was sure she saw Ma Harris wink at Will.

When Will had gone, Esther, seeing Kate still intent in her game with Danny, slipped away to the shore.

Mechanically her footsteps brought her to the Spit and she was drawn, unwillingly at first, to walk along its length, the water lapping on either side, to its very end, to the point where they had found Matthew’s body. She had not visited this place since, but she knew she must face it again.

It had been her favourite spot and she expected it to be haunted by the tragedy and robbed of its tranquillity. As she neared the very tip she found she was holding her breath. She stared down at the shingle where his body must have lain. Slowly she released the breath and lifted her head. Her gaze scanned the gently rolling water. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky, feeling the warmth of the sun.

Everything was just the same as it had always been. Nothing was spoilt. The peace of this place was almost tangible. She felt she could reach out and embrace it.

She sank down on to the shingle and felt the balm of tears which blurred her vision, so that the water danced before her eyes.

‘Oh, Matthew, I’m so sorry, sorry for you and for Beth,’ she whispered. ‘Sorry I – couldn’t make things right.’

She allowed herself the luxury of a few moments of self-pity. After seeing the happiness of Enid and her new husband, after being part of a large and loving family even if only for a few hours, the loneliness of her life ahead overwhelmed her.

‘Oh, Jonathan, Jonathan, where are you?’ Tears ran down her cheeks and, as she bent her head forward, dropped and were lost in the vastness of the ocean.

Forty-four