Out of My Depth Read online

  CONTENTS

  Title

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Glossary

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  The characters, events and places in this book are wholly fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, events and places is purely coincidental.

  Any mistakes are the author’s entirely.

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version Anglicised Copyright @1979, 1984, 2011 Biblica.

  Used by permission of Hodder & Stoughton Ltd, an Hachette UK company. All rights reserved. NIV is a registered trademark of Biblica UK trademark number1448790.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  So many people have been great encouragers to me on my writing journey, my grateful thanks to you all.

  Cheryl and Chris for reading the embryonic manuscript,

  Phill for advice and correction of some of the prose,

  Andi and Oliver for technical input and guidance,

  Jon for meticulous proof reading, ensuring accuracy of the text,

  Trevor for your constant, loving support,

  The Staff at Grosvenor House,

  What a blessing you are.

  Dedication

  For my parents

  Hilda Irene and Aylmer Douglas Butler

  Saints of God, who taught me the way of Salvation

  GLOSSARY

  Inspired by the bustling anchorage of Newtown, mentioned in Gillingwater’s Mediaeval History of East Anglia, Newton Westerby has been placed somewhere south of the Norfolk/Suffolk border. This fishing port has long disappeared so today only exists in the imagination of the author and reader. The local inhabitants speak with a Suffolk dialect but only a few families and some of the older residents have been depicted as using such in the text.

  Suffolk people have a tendency to use double negatives i.e. won’t be no more/not no more.

  They also pronounce ‘ing’ endings as en’ i.e. keepen’, growen’, headen’, thieven’, somethen’, builden’ etc.

  Frequently an ‘a’ is added to these words i.e. a-sayen’, a-sorten’ etc.

  Ow/ou pronounced ew i.e. do – dew, to – tew, you – yew.

  O pronounced oo i.e. so – soo, go – goo, no – noo, close – cloose.

  Afore – before.

  Agin – against.

  Aloan – alone.

  Allus – always.

  An’ Oi int gorn-a dew e’ – And I’m not going to do it.

  Arffice – office.

  A-tween – between.

  Bin – been.

  Bor – boy.

  Doan’t – don’t.

  E’ – it.

  Fule/fewell – fool.

  Funny – odd/strange.

  Fust – first.

  Git/gits - get/gets.

  Gor – got.

  Gorn/goen – going.

  Hen’t – haven’t/have not; hasn’t/has not.

  Hev – have.

  Hum - home.

  Int – not/isn’t.

  Lorst – lost.

  Mardle/mardling – to chat/chatting.

  Niver – never.

  Oi/oi’l/oi’m – I/I’ll/I’m.

  Ole/owd – old.

  Putter – complain.

  Roite – right.

  Rud – road.

  Sin – seen.

  Squit – nonsense.

  Thass –that’s/that is.

  Thowt – thought.

  Ul – I’ll/ I will.

  Uvver – over.

  Wholly – really.

  Yewsel’ – yourself.

  Yow’n/yourn –your/yours.

  Yup – yes.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The piercing ring of a clock alarm shattered the early morning stillness of Easter Day. Sleepily, Jansy Cooper reached out an arm from under the warm, cosy duvet to switch it off. The unremitting noise was interrupting her dreams and disturbing her beauty sleep. Once she had silenced the din she made to turn over and snuggle down again. Seconds later she forced herself up onto her elbows to squint at the illuminated digital numbers on the clock face.

  Mmm! 5.40am, not time to get up yet, too dark. Drowsily she wriggled her honey-blond head into a more comfy position on the pillow and nestled back into bed.

  5.40am! Gradually, the time registered. Startled, she rubbed her eyes and shook her head. Oh, no! It can’t be twenty to six already! I’ll be late! Without further thought, Jansy jumped up from her bed, fumbled to switch on the light and grabbed some clothes. In record time she was dressed, down the stairs, outside the house, and running to her rendezvous.

  It’s a good job Sister Calvert can’t see me. ‘Decorum at all times, Nurse Cooper. No running, except in emergencies,’ Jansy mimicked, and then chuckled, as she pictured the reaction her behaviour would trigger off in her superior.

  In the cream painted cottage, at the far end of Main Street, Dave Ransome had also woken early. He sat contentedly, drinking a mug of tea; his Bible perched on his knee open at John chapter 20. Thoughtfully he perused the verses before him. Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark... Being a fisherman he was no stranger to the early morning hours or working in the dark but, today, his feet would remain firmly on terra ferma and in a short while be taking him to meet his dearest girl. In his remaining ninety-six hours ashore there was much that had to be resolved. In the meanwhile, thoughts of the approaching hour caused him to tingle with anticipation as, along with so many others, he prepared to join in the day’s celebrations.

  Across the Village Green and part-way down Fishers Lane another household was also stirring. Seven and a half year old Daniel Catton was a natural early riser but he struggled daily to occupy himself with early morning pursuits that would not awaken the rest of his family. However, on this particular morning he had very specific instructions to tiptoe into his parent’s room and wake up his dad, Adam.

  On rising Adam encouraged Daniel in his stealth so that Laura and the girls could sleep on. Laura seems so tired these days, an extra hours rest will do her good. His eyes lingered with concern for a moment on his sleeping wife before turning his attention to his excited son.

  “Keep your PJs on under your clothes, my boy, they will give you extra warmth,” Adam whispered conspiratorially. “Don’t forget your hat, scarf and gloves,” he continued, as he slipped his arms into his own warm anorak. “All set?” When Daniel nodded in reply Adam picked up his piano accordion and as quietly as possible unbolted the front door. Together, father and son stepped out into the dark, crisp morning their warm breath spiralling before them into the air like puffs of steam from a boiling kettle.

  As they walked along the lane they could see that right around the fishing village of Newton Westerby many house lights pierced the early morning gloom as occupants busied themselves in readiness for the day. At the butcher’s premises the shop remained in darkness but the living quarters of the Cooper family blazoned with light. Frenetic activity was taking place behind the closed doors as the three sisters prepared for the day.
When they were finally ready they set out with their parents, who had patiently waited till the girls were suitably dressed, to walk the short distance to the quay.

  Across the road at the Village Stores Emma Kemp, ably assisted by Nicky Andaman, was loading the Stores van with sealed boxes and containers filled with food.

  “Here’s another contribution to add to your load, Emma,” Billy Cooper called out as he, with Pauline and their daughters, crossed the road. He held out two large trays of eggs and a package containing bacon.

  “Thanks, Uncle Billy. We’ll just drop this off at the church hall for Jilly and her helpers and then meet you on the quay,” explained Emma, as she gratefully accepted Billy’s generous gift towards the communal breakfast.

  “Are you sure you’ll have enough?” laughed Hilary, the youngest of Billy and Pauline’s daughters. Peering further into the back of the laden van she remarked wryly, “Looks as though you’re going to feed an army.”

  “You can mock, Hilary, but it’s surprising how much food cold, early morning risers consume. Dad left a detailed list on record so I’m working from his experience,” retorted Emma. “I don’t think this year will be any different to those in the past.”

  “Well done, my dear, I’m sure your assessment of the situation is quite right,” Billy patted her encouragingly on the shoulder knowing full well the stoical manner with which Emma had managed the village shop for the past four months following the tragic death of her parents. “We’ll see you shortly.”

  Little by little, as the Cooper family walked along the road, the number of people joining them began to swell. Dawn had scarcely broken when between seventy and a hundred people, from the Newton villages and surrounding area, congregated on the seaward side of the quay, to celebrate the arrival of Easter morning with a sunrise service. Most walked, but those who lived in the outlying hamlets and the villages scattered along the river side made the journey by car. Others travelled from further afield, to join with them, out of curiosity or because it was tradition. All were warmly wrapped against the freshness of the early morning air.

  As they met, friend greeted friend, relative embraced relative, acquaintance warmly welcomed acquaintance, youth, middle-aged and seniors came together, one in aim and purpose, to celebrate the risen Lord. Joyfully, the news “He is risen” reverberated along the shoreline with the onset of sunrise.

  Breathlessly, Jansy ran to meet Dave so that they could share together the wonder of the resurrection morning as daybreak emerged over the sea. A marvellous experience; somehow more special and significant on this day than any other, as it symbolized the rising of God’s Son from the tomb.

  As she reached his side Dave turned towards her, his eyes shining with love. The fresh morning air coupled with her enforced exertions had heightened the colour in Jansy’s cheeks. Tenderly, Dave stretched out his hand and with his finger softly caressed the rosy dimpled skin.

  “Good morning, my dearest girl,” a smile broadened his lips. “The Lord is risen!” The joy in his heart reverberated in his deep base voice.

  “He is risen, indeed!” Jansy replied quietly, knowing it was the expected response.

  “Shall we step up on to the quay? We’ll get a better view of the rising sun.”

  Jansy nodded and slipped her small hand into the huge, work-roughened one that Dave extended to her. As it engulfed hers she felt safe and secure. She smiled up at him as they moved forwards with a spring in their steps to participate in the Easter celebration.

  “’Morning, Em,” Dave called out as they walked passed their friend. Emma, having completed her delivery chores, had positioned herself on the harbour wall alongside her cousin, Ben Durrant. She twisted briefly to wave a quick acknowledgement to her friends. Anxious not to miss the scene coming into view she turned back to focus the lens of her camera on the far horizon. The emerging sun seemed to come straight out of the water. Both Ben and Emma were keen amateur photographers and wanted to capture the scene on camera; Emma, as a reference point for future artwork she might be inspired to attempt, and Ben, as a record for the parish news and archives. Eagerly they clicked as a dazzling vista unfolded before them. Many people around them gasped at the stunning spectacle they were witnessing; day and night pushed apart by a waking sun on a distant line where shimmering sea and brightening sky meet.

  Hugh Darnell, the vicar, allowed time for the crowd to enjoy the beautiful sight then, cleared his throat and prepared to open the service when a motorbike, ridden by a leather-clad motorcyclist, roared along the quayside drowning his words of welcome with its noise. Heads swivelled round and tongues began to wag.

  “I say, mate, cut it out,” Barry Piper shouted.

  “Tut, tut, tut,” muttered Jennifer Pedwardine, the recently retired headmistress.

  “Oh dear,” murmured Bernice Durrant.

  “What a racket!” grumbled Billy Cooper.

  “Hardly the time and place,” agreed his brother, Doctor John.

  “Hey, Dan, he didn’t ought tew make that noise,” some of the older bystanders complained.

  “Can’t yew dew somethen’ about e’?” someone else called out.

  “You ought tew ’ave a word, constable,” hinted Peek, the verger.

  “Shouldn’t be allowed,” others in unison expressed their disquiet.

  “So disrespectful,” muttered Mrs Jenner.

  “Thoughtless, more like,” countered Billy Cooper.

  “Oblivious to what is about to take place,” suggested Doctor John.

  The motorcyclist, RK Dickinson-Bond, complete with Harley-Davidson, unaware of the furore the noisy arrival had caused, parked up the motorbike. Keen to see what was causing such interest alongside the quay the biker joined the crowd and grinned a greeting at the nearest bystanders.

  In response, Dave Ransome and Jansy, still standing hand in hand, briefly acknowledged the biker’s presence with a smile. On the other side of them stood Justin Durrant who nodded a cordial “Good morning,” whilst the church choir leader, Adam Catton, flambuoyantly reached out his free hand in welcome. His son, Daniel, stood with eyes and mouth wide open gazing at the crimson and black machine and yelled, “Wow!”

  The tall, lean, broad shouldered visitor, acknowledged their greetings in a soft, husky voice, “Hi, I’m RK Dickinson-Bond,” playfully ruffled Daniel’s hair then took off the safety helmet to reveal very short dark curly hair before enquiring, “What’s going on?”

  “Easter Morning sunrise service,” came back the reply from several quarters.

  “Oh, I’d better move on then. I thought you were all admiring the fantastic seascape.” The visitor turned to restart the noisy engine.

  P.C. Dan Prettyman though officially on duty, but not anticipating crowd trouble, was hovering on the edge of the crowd of worshippers. He casually strolled over to the group of friends with whom the biker stood hoping to placate those who were voicing their discontent at the buzzing machine.

  “Best delay leaving for a little while,” he quietly advised the visitor. In response the biker viewed him quizzically but did turn off the ignition key as requested.

  However, as an avid motorbike enthusiast Dan quietly appraised the vehicle parked alongside the quay, then joined heartily in the singing of the Easter hymns as Adam skilfully accompanied the congregants on the accordion. “Christ the Lord is risen today,” they sang with heart and voice.

  At the conclusion of the hymn, Dan remained standing next to the newcomer as Rev Hugh read the account of the resurrection from St. Luke’s Gospel. Dan listened again to the miracle of the Easter message whilst casting a practised eye across the assembled gathering. When the service was over Dan stayed beside the visitor. He discussed the Harley-Davidson’s merits with its owner and showed a knowledgeable appreciation of the machine, then kindly explained the concerns some of the residents had about the noise.

  “Perhaps they’re unused to motorbikes in this quiet little backwater, because really, this machine is no noisier than
most motorbikes,” suggested RK, mischievously nodding towards the police bike parked further along the road.

  “That may well be so, but just do your best to keep the noise to a minimum when you’re riding around the village,” he requested. When RK raised an eyebrow Dan explained, “No unnecessary revs,” and chortled as he moved off to circulate amongst the crowd.

  When P.C. Dan had gone, Adam turned to chat with RK just as Ben came up to join them.

  “Have you come far?” Adam enquired.

  “Lincolnshire.”

  “Interesting county,” commented Ben.

  “Mmm. Fields and fields and then, more fields,” grinned RK impishly.

  “Sounds as though you have experience?”

  “Considerable! My father’s a farmer.”

  “What sort?”

  “Mainly root crops and flower bulbs.”

  “Aah! That explains it.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I work in the nursery.”

  “I see...”

  “Dad, are you coming?” Daniel called out to Adam impatiently.

  “We usually have breakfast together on Easter Sunday morning in the church hall. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “Thanks, I’d like to do that. I had a very early start this morning; hoped to miss all the holiday traffic.”

  “You’ll be in need of sustenance then. Come on and meet some more of the villagers. They’re a great crowd,” enthused Adam. “It’s not far and your bike will be fine there where it’s parked.”

  “Yew mean ’cos Josh int ’ere, doan’t yew?” spat out Ryan Saunders who caught the end of Adam’s remark as he walked passed him in the company of a group of teenagers on their way to the church hall.

  “I didn’t say that, Ryan,” said Adam defensively but Ryan scowled at him till Ben drew alongside the angry young man and spoke calmly to him in order to diffuse the hostile tension.

  “No, but that’s what yew meant,” Ryan retorted, unwilling to let the matter rest.

  Adam rolled his eyes, “Shall we move on, RK?”