Seawinds

By Dorothy M. Mitchell

An ordinary girl from the north, Dora experiences loss with the death of her first husband, and then the passing of her second husband, who was a rich landowner. Although she is now wealthy, she is still unfulfilled until she meets her school friend Abel whilst on holiday in Capri. After much hardship and heartbreak, she finds what her heart has been searching for, but will these feelings last, or will her happiness be taken from her once again… a story of love and loss that will pull on your heartstrings.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AUK Authors
• Release date: Dec 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781785383687

Book preview

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Bearing the loss

The small room was quiet; there was an air of sad calm. Dora looked across to the bed where Jack was sleeping. He slept most of the time now. She had been visited the hospital every day for almost two weeks, sometimes morning, other times it would be in the evening. It depended on when Daniel, her eldest son, could manage to get time off from his job on Hull docks where he worked repairing damaged ships that sailed into the Albert and William Wright dock.

Jack had been in hospital for almost three weeks, up to now she had been able to visit about twice a week, mostly by bus. On occasion Daniel had managed to take her in his car, owing to the fact that Mr Abel Hardwick, his boss, was aware of the situation with Jack and had allowed him some time off work.

Abel had shaken his head, Cancer’s a bad thing lad, very bad. You go and see your Dad, give him my best. I always had time for Jack Reynolds, and if there is anything I can do lad just let me know, and please give my regards to your Mother.

Dora was thankful for Abel Hardwick’s kindness, she remembered him at school. He had been big and fat, standing head and shoulders above the other boys, and rather scruffy looking. He always wore a grey knitted balaclava bonnet and she recalled the smell of stale body odour that seemed to hang around Abel. But he had been very kind and quite gentle then, helping other boys with their homework, despite their cruelty.

It was later discovered, however, that perhaps Abel Hardwick only did these good deeds in order to keep in with the rough hooligan element of boys who attended Thorpe Green School! The unfortunate lad had been beaten up on several occasions and warned not to tell a living soul; otherwise he would receive more of the same.

To all intents and purposes, it would seem that Abel had been too scared to speak to anyone about his tormenters, and what he had suffered at the hands of certain boys beggared belief. The knowledge, when it finally came to the surface, gave Dora Reynolds the desire to help Abel as much as she could. This had cemented a special friendship between herself and Abel, a closeness that was to last and pay dividends in ways that neither could have envisaged.

Oh, the bullying was known about, but because Abel hadn’t reported the attacks and one of the perpetrators of the cruelty was the son of the big headed deacon of the school, a certain Mr Horace Preston, this man had the same Christian name as his father who was also one of the governors at St. Saviour’s church, nothing was ever done about the bullying. Mr Preston Senior was getting on now, but he still called some of the shots, so to speak.

There were quite a few people who abhorred Mr Horace Preston Senior. But brown noses could be spotted sniffing around wherever the moneyed gent laid his hat. After all, who wanted to upset that particular apple cart, especially when it bore such ripe fruit all year round and deposited it on a regular basis at the doors of Thorpe Green School? Corruption had been rife at that particular school, so had cruelty; one poor lad in particular, Abel Hardwick, bearing the brunt of it.

During her school days, Dora had regularly wiped blood from Abel’s nose and mouth and wiped a tear from his eye. Then she’d taken him home to the cottage in Bucket Row, where he lived with his mother and Gran. The old lady was very old, and Mrs Fran Hardwick, Abel’s mother, was of a nervous disposition and rather simple.

Dora remembered vividly, she was never made welcome at the cottage, not that she minded. She had never wanted to go inside. The old granny had frightened her, and Abel’s Mother always looked like a scared rabbit.

Dora remembered Abel’s Mother always wore a headscarf and one of her eyes was rather disfigured. Both women had passed away years ago, but Dora had never forgotten the strange setup at Number 5 Bucket Row.

Abel still lived in the cottage and since his mother and Gran had passed away, the place, although feeling more welcoming, clean and homely, still bore a feeling of a hidden secret.

There had been talk that Abel’s mother had been wed to a Mr Limas Hardwick, who came from Romany stock, but most thought there never had been a Mr Hardwick. Leastwise, no one had ever set eyes on the man and Abel shut up like a clam if anyone asked about his dad.

But Abel remembered a brute of a man where they had lived before moving hurriedly away. He could still hear his mother screaming; he could still remember the blood pouring from her head. He remembered this frightening man. He hated him. How could Abel ever forget what had happened on that fateful day? There was some tale among the villagers of the area of the man going far away from the area. Anyway, Mr Hardwick senior was never seen around the village of Apperley Mead.

Abel Hardwick knew exactly what had become of his evil father. He had not gone away. In fact, he wasn’t far away at all.

Best the villagers thought that the dreadful man had done just that.

This was before his mother and Gran had moved with him to Bucket Row. He also recalled being told by his mum, after the deed was done, that he must never talk to anyone about what had happened when they lived in the Caravan in the woods a long way from Hull. Abel would have been about twelve years old at the time.

Abel had always known why his mum wore the headscarf. He had seen the terrible wound she was hiding. That being the last straw for the lad was why he had done what he did!

Dora, along with others, had always thought that there was something odd about the Hardwick family, and something sad about the boy Abel Hardwick. But then, the lowest of the low lived on Bucket Row. Who knows what secrets lay hidden in that filthy, lice-ridden shanty of place?

The years had gone by; Abel was a big man, not fat now, life and hard work had fined him down. In some ways he was quite good-looking in an unassuming sort of way, and Abel had the kindest eyes.

The man stood head and shoulders above most of his peers. Abel had surprised quite a few people by the fact that he had pulled himself up by the bootlaces, so to speak; studied hard and earned himself the position of Manager for one of the many Hull docks. As time passed, Abel Hardwick was to become a prominent and well-respected citizen of the area. It was noticed by some of the people who had known Abel Hardwick’s school days and the punishing treatment he endured at the hands of two certain boys, who were now themselves working on the docks.

It was made obvious by the treatment Abel served out to these two men who were seeking work; they never did find employment on William Wright Dock! Well, not the dock that Abel Hardwick was responsible for anyway.

Trouble was these particular two men held grudges that had festered deep within their twisted minds for years.

One of the rogues would come to a fitting end. Abel Hardwick was to play a large part in this coward’s demise; unfortunately he would also suffer for his involvement. The other lowlife of a man was to live a life of slow tormented hell. But his punishment was of the mind, and the agony for this devil carried on for a very long time. He was unable to free his haunted mind of the wicked deeds he and his pal had repeated with venom on Abel Hardwick. An eye for an eye was to be played out in reality at a later date.

Daniel Reynolds had managed to take his mother to the hospital every day for the last week of his father’s life, after being told they could visit any time now. This, in itself, gave credence to the seriousness of Jack’s failing health. So, be it morning or evening, Dora was able to spend precious time with her husband. Perhaps holding position as foreman gave Daniel a bit of leeway, allowing him time off work, enabling the lad to help his Mother in this way.

Dora was proud of her boy, being foreman wasn’t manager, but it was a step-up. It gave him privileges not enjoyed by the lower ranks. Of course Dora was right, Daniel may be soft hearted but she knew he had inner strength, even if his stupid wife was not able to see what was right under her stuck-up nose.

Daniel was a grafter, some would say a plodder, but Daniel would keep his feet firmly on the rungs of the ladder, ensuring that he would slowly but surely make his way to the top.

Dora was very aware that Daniel’s job was a bone of contention for their Annabel, but his position as foreman did give him status and a few extra shillings in his wage packet every week. Trouble was, as Dora saw it, Daniel being employed on the dock was far below what his wife wanted for him. To her, working on Hull docks was the absolute pits.

Dora sighed, Annabel was a bitch and there was no getting away from the fact. Greedy and grasping, she was always reminding Daniel that his younger brother Alex held a much higher position with the shipping company he worked for. Your brother aims for the top! You wouldn’t see your Alex roughing it like you. His wife Fay can hold her head up high, safe in the knowledge that her husband is holding down a top job, but not you! Oh no! Not you.

Dora had listened to these scathing comments and seen the glint of resentment in her daughter-in-law’s eyes too often, knowing full well that each acid remark and scathing comment chipped away at her eldest son, and it hurt seeing the look of defeat in his eyes. One day Annabel would come unstuck. One day Dora would do what she often felt like doing, and smack their Annabel hard across her spiteful face.

No man likes to be belittled by his wife, especially in front of his mother, and a mother with anything about her wants to protect her young no matter how old they may be. True, Daniel was quiet, a deep thinker rather like his dad. He was quite good-looking in a soft sort of way. His thick sandy hair, which never looked as if it ever saw a comb, didn’t do him any favours, but his soft hazel eyes spoke volumes. He was a big lad, strong on the shoulders, and as gentle as they come.

Being so soft was half his problem, as Dora saw it. She had remarked to his dad in the past that had their Daniel been more on the rough side he might have given Annabel a good clout, that might have put paid to her chipping away at him incessantly. Dora sighed and returned her thoughts to Jack. He had always seen the potential in his eldest son. Bide your time lass, he’d said, our Daniel has hidden depths he will be all right, just you wait and see. You mark my words lass, one day he will show the kind of man he is. Dora had prayed that Jack was right in his assumptions.

Dora, getting back to the problem in hand, glanced towards her husband. How frail he looked, she must be here close to him. Dora wanted to be here, Jack didn’t have much longer to live, so it was important to spend as much time as she could by his side. He was so pale; the careworn look and the hollow cheeks told of the suffering he was enduring.

Dora touched the now thinning grey hair and swallowed yet another hard lump of anguish. There were many kinds of pain, and Dora reckoned she had experienced them all during Jack’s illness. She was thankful for the blessed sleep when it came to him. She had listened to Jack crying out in agony, before the morphine given to him had taken effect. Sleep was the salve that relieved Jack when the pain became increasingly unbearable of late. The drug given to relieve the pain of the stomach cancer seemed to take longer and longer to take effect.

Dora had asked the doctor if the medication could be increased. He had answered in his big doctor voice that Jack was on the maximum for the moment. When we deem the pain has become unbearable then we will increase the dose.

Dora gave the doctor a weary nod, and thought to herself, Does he really care? Or is it a case of, I will give the woman something to placate her, a few words that will bring her comfort?

But Dora could tell by Dr Lambert’s demeanour that to him this was routine. The man lived cancer, he knew this horrible illness like the back of his hand. He had smelled its putrid odour.

He had cut the life-stealing mass from many a frightened patient, who were longing for good news from him, the man who could perform miracles, but still knowing deep within themselves that they must expect the worst; cancer would probably kill them.

Dora had expected the worst ever since the persistent stomach trouble had meant Jack having to give up his job as gardener to the Lewis Stanhopes who lived at Seawinds, the imposing house overlooking the bay along the coast about a mile from Hull.

Jack had loved the job. He was a gardener through and through. He had worked for Major and Mrs Lewis Stanhope for twelve years.

Some of his acquaintances envied his position in life, but Jack had always ridden above the spiteful chitchat.

The jealous talk among some of the locals doesn’t bother me love, he had said to Dora, So don’t let it bother you. But sometimes, however, Dora had worried about the situation. She couldn’t help being concerned, jealousy and the trouble this