Chapter 9

On Friday Steven did some research into Tom Edwards's family and was pleased to find they were decent and respected people. His father was an assistant manager at a bank in the city and his mother did voluntary work at the hospital.

The visit to Grimsby was a success. Becca was very impressed with the seamanship of the trawler skippers.

"How do they manage to fit their boats into such a small space and make it look so easy?"

"Years of practice."

She also enjoyed the fish market with all its noise and bustle. They bought some cod and some herring. Then it was off to Robin Hood's Bay. The tide was out so that they had plenty of sand. Becca was as thrilled as a small child. She took her shoes and socks off and rolled up her trouser legs and paddled ever more adventurously shrieking with excitement at the higher wavelets and jumping over them. Inevitably she got her trousers wet but that bothered her not one bit. Eventually her legs became cold and she came out. She dried them on the towel that Steven had insisted they brought. Next he taught her to play Ducks and Drakes and she quickly became rather good at it, quite often getting her pebble to bounce six or seven times.

There was a café at the top of the cliff so they had a sandwich lunch before setting off for home through The Dales. Steven had brought a map and they found a pleasant if slightly strenuous walk with lovely views. There were more sheep and lambs which pleased Becca immensely.

They reached home around five and had a cup of tea on the sofa in the sitting room.

"Thank you, Uncle Steven, for another lovely day," Becca said. "It was all fun but the best bit was Robin Hood's Bay. I felt so alive and free by the sea."

"I know what you mean. There seems to be so much space when you look out to sea."

Becca nodded vigorously. "I wonder what it's like in a storm."

"A bit frightening and very exciting with huge waves crashing and the wind howling."

"Gosh!" exclaimed Becca wide-eyed. "I'd love to see it."

"We might do that one day."

Becca could not restrain a bounce of excitement. She suddenly looked thoughtful.

"I enjoyed the walk too," she said slowly, "but I liked the other place you took me to last week better. It's ... it's ... I don't know ... different."

Steven nodded. "Yes, it's a special place; almost magical."

"Did you go there with Betty or only after she died?"

"Oh, with her. She loved it too. She used to say there were fairies living among the trees by the beck." He smiled sadly.

Becca put her hand on his. "Thank you for sharing her place with me," she said softly. "It makes me feel special."

Steven looked her in the eyes. "Good," he said, "because you are pretty special. I think I'm going to be very proud of my niece."

Becca blushed with pleasure and smiled shyly at him. "I'd like that," she said.

She picked up the tea things, took them out to the kitchen and washed them up. As she did so, she reflected on the last fortnight. She thought what a kind and gentle man Steven was, not at all what she was used to. He had tried nothing on like the men at the home. Instead he was affectionate and encouraging. She felt ashamed as she recalled how she had aimed to milk him. She could not conceive of doing that now. Instead she wanted him to be proud of her and she would try her hardest to make him.

"Would you like me to dry up for you?" asked Steven. He had come in so silently and she had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she had not noticed him. With brimming eyes she nodded and turned quickly back to the sink.