Nell was one very loved baby! Ben thought, as he held her close to his heart, that having a grandchild was nothing like having a child. It was hard to describe, but it was a totally different mix of emotions. One thing was certain – this baby was probably the most loved and fussed over child on the island at the moment.
Waverider was nearly ready for another voyage, and Jake was visiting his sister, Sal, with a proposition.
“I know Rachel’s desperate for a voyage with us, and I’d love for her to meet my wife and children – her cousins, after all! What about her not only sailing with us on Waverider, but also visiting my family?”
“Oh, please may I?” Rachel cried.
Sal thought about it.
“I don’t see why not. Though it will mean a long absence – I’ll miss you! But yes, it would be lovely to have some contact with your cousins, and I’m not going to get to go there. And with Sarah being older now, we can cope without you – just! Mind, I need to talk to Anders as well.”
Rachel hugged her uncle enthusiastically, while Sal went off to find Anders and tell him about Jake’s offer. She was pretty sure he’d agree to the plan as well.
“Do you think you’ll want to go on Waverider too?” Petranella asked Sarah.
“No, I don’t think so. Rachel’s always wanted to explore, to find out what’s round the next corner. I’m more like my father – I’m content here. And Hannah’s quieter still – we should have named Rachel after Great-Aunt Hannah.”
There were more things to discuss, but the upshot was that Rachel would be leaving the island with her uncle, and wouldn’t be back for quite some time.
“I’ll send messages with any ship we can,” Jake promised his sister. “And you know I’ll take great care of her.”
Siobhan was old enough to be a real help to Morag in the garden and round the house – and Morag was glad of the help. Siobhan, on the other hand, was getting very fed up with how little Bella and Brede did. There was always some excuse on their lips, or some reason why they had to go away and do something more pleasant. And she was worried about Morag, who was beginning to look exhausted. Why didn’t Patrick notice the state his daughter was in?
Mostly because he, too, was so busy. They were storing just enough food, eventually, for the winter, but it was a close-run thing each year. He and Callum were often out from dawn onwards, fishing – or gutting and salting their catch: much too smelly and messy a job to do at home. He wasn’t quite sure why he could never seem to get enough done, so he kept trying harder. Callum was the only child he had any time with any more. Bella didn’t want Brede to learn to fish yet – Brede was too little, she said.
Morag had been out one day, looking for wild plants to bring home for the garden. Tired and thirsty, she realised she’d ended up near Tobias and Barnabas’s little house, which was looking very smart now, with a fine productive garden at the front. She could ask them for a drink.
She went to admire their plants first, before knocking on the door, but Tobias saw her and came out to greet her.
He was shocked by the change in her. She looked grubby, uncared for – and, worst of all, worn out. Why?
“I haven’t seen you in ages, Morag. How are you doing? And where have you been hiding yourself?”
Her sad eyes looked back at him
“You know how it is. There’s always so much to do…I never seem to have any free time. Could I beg a drink of water, please?”
Barnabas came back (from visiting Bianca. Again), and hugged Morag in welcome. She felt too thin in his arms. Tobias vanished inside to find her a drink, and Barnabas chatted for a while, taking in her general air of exhaustion.
“Sit here for a bit – you look so tired. I’ll find you something to eat as well.”
By the time the two brothers came out of the house, Morag was asleep.
“This isn’t right. Poor Morag looks dreadful.”
“I know. What can we do about it?”
“I know what we can do,” Barnabas said. “Next time I visit Bianca…”
“Like tomorrow?” Tobias teased.
Barnabas blushed, but didn’t deny it. “…I’ll have a word with Brigit. This is her grandchild, after all.”
“And talking of Bianca – she’s just said, yes, she’ll marry me!”
Tobias hugged his brother and congratulated him heartily.
“I need to go and live there, though – since Carlo died, they’ve had no man around the place. Do you mind?”
But Tobias knew that his brother was right. “I can handle stuff here now – we’ve done all the hard work together. And they do need you.”
Bella was stirring a pot of stew – Patrick and Callum would be home soon; the sun was setting. Brigit had always done most of the cooking too – Bella wanted her mother back! It didn’t seem fair that Brigit should be helping to look after a stranger’s children, instead of her own daughter and grandchildren.
Patrick had arrived to find Siobhan still at work in the darkening garden.
“All on your own? No Morag?”
“She’s gone out foraging,” Siobhan said tersely.
“Oh – and I suppose Bella’s stopped to make a meal.”
Siobhan snorted. “You can’t stop if you haven’t started.”
Patrick frowned at his daughter’s rudeness, but decided not to make an issue of it. She was probably just tired – he knew he and Callum were.
Now Patrick thought about it, there didn’t seem to be the same happy atmosphere that he’d once known in his home. Siobhan was glowering, Callum didn’t look particularly cheerful – and where was Morag? And why hadn’t Brede come downstairs in time for tea?
And when Brede eventually sauntered in, it seemed to Patrick that she was altogether too sure of her welcome. He looked at his wife, and wondered if she’d noticed these things too. He’d always left the child-raising to Bella, while he’d attended to the practical side of things – she’d loved having the children round her so much. But maybe it was all proving more than she could handle now? If only he wasn’t so tired!
Astrid and Petranella had been forced inside by the rain. Like everyone else on the island, they had been busy from dawn till dusk, harvesting, drying, smoking, salting – anything and everything to have enough food to see them through the winter.
“Though it’s not so much the winter,” Petranella said reflectively, “as that lean bit before all the new stuff starts growing again.”
“Yes – there’s fresh fish again, but not much else!”
“How’s the new wine cellar coming on?”
“Nicely. We’ve paid over all this year’s vintage to the Waverider crew, for their help in building it, but Jon says it’ll make such a difference in years to come that it’s worth doing it.”
“Do you remember what this place looked like when we first came here?”
“It was a total ruin, wasn’t it?”
“You do remember!”
“Oh yes, easily. But your memories go further back than anyone else’s on the island now. Petranella, you should tell them to me, and I’ll write them down for us to keep. There’s only you and Brigit remember Jon and Nell now from when they were young. I only knew them as grandparents.”
“And now you’re a grandparent! I have to say, you’re wearing well.”
“Hmmm. I tell you this, I’m beginning to feel the difference. I don’t have any problem believing I’ve got grown up sons.”
“I know what you mean. I am beginning to feel like the last of my line. I do miss the others – though I’m not lonely really, with so many other people around all the time.”
“That first night here at this house, and all of us eating outside – it was ages before we could eat inside: remember?”
“I remember that too – David and Ingrid were still children.”
“What else do you remember, Astrid? You should write down your memories as well as mine – and then one of your grandchildren might add theirs one day…”
“Mostly, how hard we worked, to get enough food! But I do remember some very happy times doing that as well…”
The two of them sat there, both thinking about times gone by. Petranella was right, Astrid decided – she would write down the history of the island, starting with Petranella’s memories, and carrying on with her own. This would be worth doing.
Barnabas and Bianca couldn’t get married until the end of the harvest – everyone was much too busy before then! But once every last bit of food had been gathered in, and winter began to steal across the island, they did get married. It was the first indoor wedding on the island, and the Luigli house was as full as it could be. It was looking like a snowy winter, and this would be the last chance all the families would have to get together, before the weather closed them into their homes. Carla and Jon watched their sister and brother get married to each other, and both thought, “We’re not the only ones now!”
After the wedding, Brigit asked Barnabas what he thought about how Morag and her other grandchildren were looking.
“I did have a word with Patrick – but everyone was so busy with the harvest, it was no wonder Morag looked tired. He looked pretty exhausted too. But I’m still not happy.”
“Me neither. Tobias is nearer them than we are, and he’s trying to keep an eye out for the children – Morag in particular.”
“I wish I knew more about what was going on. Morag had hardly anything to say to me. I know she was always quiet.”
“You asked the wrong grandchild. Siobhan says plenty!”
Barnabas imitated Siobhan rather well.
“Morag’s wearing herself out, because she believes Bella when Bella tells hger she should be able to get things finished. I’m being run ragged, and Bella does next to nothing except play with Brede and look at the cot and sigh about how much she wishes she’d had more babies…”
“Right. That settles it. Once this winter is over, I’m going there to give my daughter a piece of my mind. And Patrick as well, probably.”
And though Brigit looked small and frail these days, Barnabas reckoned he wouldn’t want to tangle with her!
Astrid and Ben were going to become grandparents for a second time! Actually, they were going to become grandparents for a third time as well, because Barnabas and Bianca were expecting a child too. Unlike Carla, Bianca had conceived remarkably quickly.
“But we’re not going to make Bella’s mistake,” Barnabas had said to Jon. “We’re not going to have more children than we can cope with.”
Ben was looking round the fine new cellar that the crew of Waverider had helped to dig and build. The only wine in it at the moment was this year’s pressing, fermenting in the big barrels, but presently there would be bottles on the racks again. He and Jon were getting better and better at making wine – Jon and Astrid had done so much to improve the quality of the grapes, and that made a big difference. And Jon had learnt a lot on his voyage on Waverider: wherever they had anchored, he had sought out local vintners and learned all he could from them.
Life had definitely changed on the island. About four or five ships called each year now, to re-water and to buy fresh fruit and vegetables. They were getting to know what to bring with them, and one of the things they were bringing was books. Nell and Jon had been determined that every child on the island should learn to read and write, and they had succeeded in that, but now there was a choice of books to read!
And there were even books for the very young. Just one or two, and very precious. Jon sat with his little daughter snuggled up against him, and read her the story of the ant and the grasshopper. One day, he’d be reading this to his next child too – another son or daughter.
It was another daughter! Ben cuddled his second grand-daughter and felt the same awe and amazement that had swept over him when he cuddled his first.
“Hello, little Maria,” he whispered into her perfect little ear. “Welcome to the island
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