With Barnabas gone, Tobias sometimes felt a bit lonely by himself in the little house they’d built together. He missed his twin brother being around, and he missed having someone to talk to. So you would have thought that Morag calling round one morning would have cheered Tobias up.
Morag was certainly pleased to see Tobias again. The winter had been too long for her – and too hungry again. They’d had food each day, but never quite enough, despite their best efforts. She’d gone out that morning to see if there was anything to gather, and met her grandmother coming towards the house.
“Morag – you look like you haven’t seen enough daylight for days! Take the day off – go and see Tobias or something. I’m going over to see your mother; I’ll tell her where you are.”
“But…” Morag began.
“No arguments! Just do as I’ve told you – it will be good for you.”
And Brigit had looked so brisk and fierce that Morag had done as she was told.
Tobias, on the other hand, was not happy to see Morag. Or, to be more exact, he was not happy to see that Morag looked as thin and as uncared-for as ever. And he couldn’t let this go on any longer.
“Morag. Answer me truthfully. Are you happy at all?”
Morag was surprised by Tobias’ sudden question.
“And I mean truthfully.”
About to say, “Of course I’m happy,” Morag paused and thought deeply.
With Tobias’ eyes looking into hers, she couldn’t lie. But she couldn’t meet that steady gaze of his either. She hung her head.
“No. No, I’m not.”
Tobias put his arms round her.
“Then let me look after you, Morag. Let me take care of you.”
He hadn’t expected quite such a drastic reaction to his tenderness, quite such a storm of weeping. Morag herself hadn’t realised quite how much she’d wanted someone to take care of her again. She’d cried until she was sick, headachey and exhausted. Tobias had persuaded her to lie down on the bottom bunk, and she’d fallen asleep almost immediately.
Tobias sat where he could see Morag as she slept, and did some hard thinking. He wasn’t going to let her go home until she’d had her sleep out, until she’d been properly fed – and had a good wash too. But the truth was, he didn’t ever want to let her go – the question was, did she want to stay here with him?
Morag felt a little shy when she woke up after her storm of tears, but her shyness faded as she ate the excellent stew Tobias had cooked. And as they ate, Tobias – shy in his own way – tried to tell Morag how much he wanted to help her.
“Morag, my love,” he said, as she worked her way through her second bowlful, “your clothes are in tatters, you’re too thin – you look like you always get the last turn with the hot water…”
“What did you just call me?” Morag nearly choked on a mouthful of stew.
“…My love,” said Tobias after a long pause.
“I do love you, Morag. I’ve loved you for ages, and I can’t bear to see you so unhappy. Will you let me make things better for you? Come here and live with me – and we’ll share the work that needs doing, help each other and look after each other.”
Morag couldn’t think of the words to answer him, so she found another way.
Brigit arrived at Patrick and Bella’s house in a sudden shower of rain. She was quite pleased she’d seen Morag on the way round, and sent her off to Tobias’s house. Morag was a sensitive little eggplant, and Brigit was planning on giving her daughter a piece of her mind. Siobhan wouldn’t mind – she’d probably join in, given half a chance!
She found Siobhan and Callum both out in the garden, in the rain, working hard.
She found Bella and Brede inside, warm and dry and enjoying themselves.
“And just what do you two think you’re doing? It looks as though everything I’ve been hearing about your behaviour recently is true, young lady.”
Bella was shocked. How could her mother be cross with her?
She tried the big-eyed innocent look that had worked so well on Patrick, when he’d spoken to her about his concerns for the other children.
“Brede needs her lessons. And she’s learning to read very nicely now.”
“Brede does not ‘need her lessons’. Why isn’t she out fishing with her father? Callum was at that age. And why aren’t you out working in the garden?”
“Brede’s so little,” Bella pleaded.
“No. She’s not. She’s not a baby. Though she’s rapidly turning into a spoilt little horror, manipulating you to get her own way all the time.” Brede decided that now was the time to leave the room, but her grandmother had other ideas.
“You just stay here. I want some words with you as well about your behaviour too. And as for you, Bella, you have to grow up. You can’t go on just playing any more, like you did when your father and I were still both here. You have to do your share of the work as well….”
When Patrick came in, dripping wet, he found Brigit still telling Bella in no uncertain terms what she thought of her behaviour – and demolishing every excuse with neat examples. Brede had been sent to stand in the corner until she could tell the truth to her grandmother. Patrick stood and listened to Brigit, with a growing feeling of relief and gratitude.
“Patrick! Tell her she’s wrong – and mean – and unkind to Brede!”
“No. Because Brigit’s right. I agree with everything she’s said.”
“What?” Bella couldn’t believe her ears.
Tears started to her eyes. How could Patrick not be on her side? Meanwhile, Patrick turned to Brigit.
“What do you suggest we do?”
“Bella has to start pulling her weight. Brede has a lot to learn, and teaching her is only going to take up time none of you have to spare. You and all the others are far too tired because you’re trying to do the work of six between the four of you. I suggest we send Brede to live with David and Ingrid – they can teach her how to fish, how to grow things, how to sew, cook, clean…And with Brede out of the way, maybe Bella will have time to notice the rest of her family.”
And for once, Bella’s pleas were to no avail. Patrick agreed with Brigit, and it was going to happen.
“This had gone far enough. This is your last chance to change things, Bella.”
There wasn’t much time for everyone to think about Brigit’s descent upon Patrick and Bella though, for that bit of news was eclipsed by something much more exciting. Waverider came back, with Rachel and Jake on board – and with someone new! Rachel had come back engaged!
Petranella thoroughly approved of her fiancé, Gil. They’d come back to the island, not just to get married, but also to settle there.
“Are you still sure about living here? Now that you’ve actually seen the island?”
“Even more so than I was before. With you beside me, I can be the happiest of men, and this island is very beautiful. Like you, my darling.”
And it was another wedding! And another garden full of guests, and another outing for the wedding finery that had been made so long ago. Though Rachel noticed, as she put the wedding dress on, that it was beginning to show its age. They would have to make a new one for the next generation of brides.
Watching Rachel and Gil kiss each other, no-one was in any doubt as to whether they loved each other or not!
And Petranella was grateful that she’d lived long enough to see one more wedding. She could remember – just! – when there were only seven of them on the island – Jon, Nell, and their five children. And now there were nearly thirty people here – all ages, from herself to the bulge in Bianca’s stomach that would be her second child.
A while later, Sal, standing by the new grave that was Petranella’s final resting place, was glad that Petranella had lived to see just one more wedding as well.
Nell was big enough to hold a fishing rod now, and her grandmother was teaching her to fish – and telling her stories of her own childhood, fishing in this very spot.
“Your Great Aunt Ingrid wasn’t a lot older than you are now.”
“Great- Aunt Ingrid? My age? But she’s an old lady!”
“She wasn’t always.” Astrid thought back to those sunny days that now seemed such a long time ago. She was glad she’d written down all Petranella’s memories before Petranella had died. She’d been asking Brigit for all that she could remember as well.
As though Nell had read her grandmother’s mind, she asked, “How’s the book coming along Grandmother? And will I get to write in it one day?”
“Someone will need to go on writing in it. And I don’t see why it shouldn’t be you.”
“That would be good! I’m hungry – what do you think Mama’s cooking for tea?”
Carla was cooking one of the recipes she’d learnt from her grandmother – and beginning to wonder if she might be pregnant again. The dough smelt very yeasty, and the other ingredients also seemed to smell much stronger than usual.
Brede was someone else who was learning from her grandmother – mostly, learning that her grandmother had been right when she’d told Brede that she was a spoilt child. There was so much that she just didn’t know how to do! Like Astrid, David and Ingrid were old now, yet they could still get more done in a day than she could.
Her attempts at sewing hadn’t been particularly impressive, but Ingrid had insisted that she had to make her own clothes, and wear what she made. She hadn’t been able to fish, to cook – she hadn’t known what plants were which in the garden.
At one point, she’d been really angry with her mother, and had blamed all her incompetence on Bella. David, however, had been having none of that.
“Your father wanted to take you out fishing with him, and asked you often. Why didn’t you go?”
“Bella said I was too young…”
“That didn’t stop Siobhan. She was pestering to learn before she was big enough to hold a rod properly. Tell the truth, Brede. Why didn’t you ever go?”
And eventually, she’d admitted the truth – that it looked like it would be hard work, and she’d rather stay at home and play.
“Some of it was Bella,” she thought to herself. “But some of it was me as well.”
Carla was pregnant again. And so was Bianca! The two sisters enjoyed being pregnant together. And Rachel was pregnant as well.
“It must be something in the air!”
“Morag’s not though, is she?”
“No. Not surprising, though.”
Another autumn was closing in, and Jon and Ben were working all out to finish another harvest. Astrid and Carla though had both stopped for the day. Astrid sat by the fire, warming her old bones gratefully, and quietly thankful. All the women of the family were in the room together – Carla, who was as dear to Astrid as the daughter she’d never had, was rounding out nicely as she neared the end of this pregnancy. Nell was reading happily, and little sunny-tempered Maria was playing on the floor. It wouldn’t be long now before there was another child in the family, and then they’d need the new upstairs room they’d built on when the cellar was dug out.
Carla was in labour for the third time, and Jon didn’t panic at all! Though he wasn’t sure if it made any difference to Carla…
And that morning, when Nell got up and dressed, and went in to see her mother, she discovered that she had a new little baby brother. Young Jacob, after both his great-uncle and his great-grandfather.
After the excitement of the morning, Jon and Ben decided they needed to do something very cool and calm in the afternoon – like inspecting the cellars. Last year’s wine was bottled up, and this year’s was safely fermenting in the barrels along the walls.
“This lot should fetch a good price – what do we want to do with the money?”
“I think we should finish the house off, like we were discussing doing. But I’ll tell you my dream, Jon – and maybe you’ll be the one to make it come true. I’d like to build a library for all the island to use. And to be able to stock it as well – though we could all help do that.”
Jon could see his father’s passion and enthusiasm for this plan.
“But won’t that be very expensive?”
Ben carried on as though Jon hadn’t spoken.
“I remember the library at one of the ports where we sometimes over-wintered – where Jake’s family live now. So many books – we couldn’t build anything like that, but we could make a small one, for our small town.”
A very small town! Jon thought – more like a tiny village, really. All the same, maybe he and Carla would try to make his father’s dream come true. The quality of their wine was getting better and better, and the prices it commanded were going up too.
In another house, Sarah was talking to her father, Anders.
“There’s an idea I want to tell you about. Hannah, Luisa, Siobhan and I – we want to take on another derelict house and garden, and rebuild and replant. But what do you think?”
Sarah had a lot of faith in her father’s gentle wisdom.
Anders thought for a while, and then answered her.
“Yes, I do think that’s a good idea, Sarah. As long as you all promise to ask if you need help, and don’t just struggle on alone to prove a point.”
“We won’t. But – well, it’s getting a bit crowded here, with Rachel’s two: don’t misunderstand me, I do love my nephews. And my sister, and Gil. But – I’d like a bit more room….”
Anders smiled at his daughter. “I know. And it’s fine. Go ahead and see what you can all do together.”
And not that long afterwards, the four of them were standing there, trying to decide what to do first. They’d roofed over a shelter so that they could at least sleep dry – but what should they do next? It was exciting though, adding another house to the village.
And if they could have looked down on the island like a bird, they would have seen that it was indeed beginning to look lived-in again, with houses and gardens showing where once there had been ruins and weeds.
