The Estuary

The River Deben

RAF officers Susan and Mark and a young ferryman, Robert, steer their different ways through work, friendships, families and aloneness. Susan is trying to focus on her career, while Mark's priority is Susan. The death of Susan's father throws the couple's romantic and family relationships into different perspectives as Robert ploughs on across the river, questioning his feelings about his absent family and his ability to be independent.

On January 31st 1953 the disastrous East Coast floods change the shape of the estuary overnight. The ensuing devastation brings new challenges, new opportunities, new decisions.

A rich, often lyrical and thoroughly well researched story which is both an historical evocation and a rewarding novel about place - both in the geographical sense and in the sense of "belonging". There is a delicate precision in the writing and real emotional sensitivity in the plot.
Sara Maitland

£7.99 - buy here

ISBN 0-9543627-0-5
Cover design by Roland West

Extract from The Estuary

Robert is a ferryman at Felixstowe Ferry….

Today Robert has worked in the boat yard all day, moving timber from where a lorry has unloaded it to where it's needed for one of the boatbuilders. He's offered to help because he's determined to learn as much as he can from this man. He's seen boats being built before, but there are stages he doesn't know about, certain parts of construction he needs to look at more closely. The prow. The keel. Somebody always wants a repair done, and he's sure he'll be able to find occasional work in the yard if people trust his skill.

Now he's back on Music Maker, lying on his stomach, on his bunk. His head's leaning over the edge to the right, looking down towards the floor where he's spread out the latest letter from his mother. Maisie is squashed between his legs and the cabin wall. This is his favourite position for reading. He sometimes reads the Felixstowe Times like that, pulling each sheet close to him so they end up all over the cabin floor.

The first line says My dear Robert. This is unusual. She doesn't usually put My dear, it's usually just Dear.

My dear Robert,

Thank you for your letter. I hope you'll find somewhere better to stay for the winter. A boat's all right in the summer, but it must be getting damp already now. Let me know where you're going to be. The ferry work sounds good - good to have something regular.

We're all well except the girls were given a kitten and yesterday it disappeared. They are so upset. We've spent hours looking for it, but I think it will come home again I hope.

Dad is back at work full time now, and his back seems all right now, thank goodness. The rent is not a problem when we are both working. Dad painted the kitchen and it looks like new.

I sometimes think you will turn up here one day. That would be a treat.

Sally wants to write something on the other side.

Here is a photo a man at Dad's work took. He takes lots of photos and when dad mentioned to someone that it was his birthday, he said he would take a family picture and give it to him. He gave us two copies and this one is for you. I hope you like it.

With all my love,

Mum

Robert stretches out his right arm to pick up the envelope again. He pulls out the small snapshot he's missed. His stepfather and mother stand shoulder to shoulder, almost the same height. Sally stands in front of his stepfather, Lizzie in front of his mother. They too are both the same height, despite the difference in their ages. Mother has her hair up in a bun, making her face thinner than he remembers. Dad looks serious, but less fierce than he remembers. Sally is smiling at the camera, and Lizzie seems to be about to speak.

The foursome appear square, solid, united. He isn't in it. He isn't in this family photo.

He lays the photo on the floor and picks up the piece of lined writing paper. He turns it over and reads

Dear BOB, Our black and white kitten ran away I am so unhappy. Please pray she will come back to us. Hug from Sally.

He turns back and reads the whole letter through twice more, then studies the photo again. Lizzie is wearing shorts, Sally a sunfrock. They're taller than when he last saw them. Is this door in the corner the door to where they live? The handlebars of a bike poke into the left hand edge of the photo. Whose bike is it? Are the four of them happy? When will he see them again?

He gets up and puts the photo and letter carefully back in the envelope. He fetches from a wooden box the brown paper bag where he keeps all the letters he's ever received. They're all from his mother. He puts the box away in the end of the galley. It's the safest place for them. Then he makes a cup of tea and drinks it slowly. The windows of the cabin are rectangles of blackness.

Later, lying in his bunk, he doesn't fall asleep. He hears Maisie snuffling quietly, and he feels the water pushing on the boat. He knows from its direction that it's not the tide, but wind.

He's thinking about the photograph. He should be in it. So should his brother Tom. There should be six of them. But should his real father be there too? And if he was, then his stepfather and Lizzie and Sally would not be. Is that what he wants?

He says the Lord's Prayer. This is easy for he knows it well and sometimes says it when he wants something badly, but he always wonders whether it's all right only to pray when he wants something. Surely it's all right to ask for something for someone else? He says to himself, or to God - he's not sure which - Please may the girls' kitten not be dead. They want it home safely. Please look after my mother. Amen.