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CHAPTER ONE

Debbie tried desperately to unwind her grief stricken body. Great cramps of cruel pain kept her doubled. The spine chilling screams continued to mingle with the sounds of the angry sea, which now lashed the rocks below, leaving a white lather of foam filled bubbles. \"Oh, dear God, tell me I'm dreaming,\" ripped from her in choking sobs. \"No, no, I won't, I can't believe this!\"

Gradually, her shaking hands parted the curtain of her dark hair, revealing her misery laden eyes. Today she was totally alone, her mind addled with confusion, shock, fright and utter dismay.

It had been four years since she had been here, yet something had compelled her to come today. Sighing heavily, she allowed her tear filled eyes to take in the panoramic view. She was shocked beyond belief, to find herself sitting high on the Lakeland Hill, overlooking Morecambe Bay.

This had once been her favourite spot. She and Paul had discovered the perfect privacy on one of their many walks together. Sitting on the rich green headland, her eyes drifted to the fishing boats that still bobbed about, the way she remembered. The ever friendly light almost blinded her as it flashed comfortingly from the lighthouse on the pretty Isle of Walney.

She shivered, it was always fresh up here, but now, in the early spring, it felt bitterly cold as did her heart. Another tirade of sheer misery washed over her. Paul had declared his love for her here, teaching her heart to sing. She recalled how painfully ignorant of life she had been then, but she could never have begun to guess that her very naivety was a magnet in itself.

Somewhat reluctantly, she allowed her mind to roll back over the last several years. Her body shuddered as the memories came tumbling back, engulfing her in goose bumps.

Rubbing her forearms in an act of soothing, she felt herself drawn to the end of her schooldays. Although poverty had been a close companion, she had been so happy then. Her life was steeped with love and her parents adored her as she loved them dearly.

**

Debbie remembered with great fondness, the way her friends had admired her father, Jim Hudson. He had just reached forty and was perhaps the kindest man she would ever know. His six foot body was slim and youthful, but his dark brown hair was already lightly peppered with grey, giving him a real look of distinguished sophistication. His dark, penetrating eyes had a rich tenderness in them, expressing a deep sincerity. He literally lived for his little family and his work.

There was no doubting the brilliant brain that ticked away constantly. Jim had qualified as an accountant and during his studies, had also enrolled in the classes for master bakers. Much to his surprise, he had qualified in that particular field with honours.

Standing at the crossroads of his life, he had apparently been very undecided as to which route to travel. That was before he had met and fallen madly in love with Debbie's mother. Ellen had just completed her course in advanced confectionary, able to ice beautiful cakes for all occasions. She was trying to find an opening to put her skills into operation and it was a natural conclusion for her and Jim to work side by side.

Not only would they become partners for life, but would lease a small bakery and combine their skills. Ellen was just over five feet tall, with a dainty, yet curvaceous figure. Her fair auburn hair was reminiscent of burnished copper. She had tiny freckles across her button nose, over which were huge, brown velvet and direct eyes. They showed her every emotion and had been inherited by Debbie. Everything about Ellen was neat and trim. Her small, deft fingers could handle the most intricate of designs.

They had taken a small shop and flat in Preston. Together they had baked scrumptious fresh bread and mouth watering cakes. There was always a long queue outside and after the initial struggle, the little shop had begun to show a profit.

Apparently, Jim and Ellen had been delighted when their daughter was born. All too quickly though, she had grown up and begun her schooling. By the time Debbie was fifteen, they had managed to take on two assistants to serve in the shop.

Money had always been tight, but Debbie never remembered anything other than deep love from and between them. They had worked hard to give her a good education and she had worked equally hard as she wanted to make her way through college and study in the field of fashion and design. It therefore, was a huge boost to her own finances when she was able to help in the shop on Saturdays

They had all been filled with horror as they learned that one of the major bakeries was to take them over. The move had left them homeless and jobless, with just a mere smattering of compensation. Immediately, Debbie realised that at sixteen, she may well have to place her own future on 'hold'.

The pain hung from Jim's haunted eyes as he tried to explain, \"Debs, Mum and I would like to invest the little capital we have. In fact, dear, we have heard of a small tea and bakery shop on Old Heysham. It will be a tremendous upheaval for us all, unfortunately the affect on you, does worry us. I mean, how would you feel about such a move?\"

A sick knot had replaced her stomach, she didn't want to move. Yet they had no home and she knew that her help would be not only needed, but a true necessity. Her voice trembled, \"Dad, obviously I never gave a thought to moving, but then, neither did you or Mum. I feel certain that I can settle elsewhere!\"

Seeing the look of sheer relief pass between her parents, she could feel the dreadful pressure they faced. Ellen's eyes filled, \"Debbie, perhaps you could enrol in night school and complete your course. By then, who knows? Dad and I may well find ourselves able to manage without you!\"

\"We'll be fine, Mum,\" she smiled.

Debbie knew her parents loved Morecambe and she had instantly fallen in love with it herself. To her delight, she had been able to enrol into the local night school and with swift ease, she settled into the new way of life.

**

Old Heysham was a very picturesque little town, with quaint little cobbled streets. Gift shops were scattered about like confetti, encouraging many holiday makers to wander around. That in itself was good for trade. Many trippers were only too happy to call into the shop for welcome cups of tea or coffee. Most of them also loved to sink their teeth into freshly baked pastries.

Debbie found the work to be challenging as well as rewarding, in fact she loved to wonder where the trippers had come from, where they would return to and work. The customers quite obviously fell in love with her spontaneous personality, her care and attention to serve them, her eager ear to listen. The smile that lit her face as she whipped from table to table with unobtrusive ease, made her special and this often showed in the generous tips that were handed to her.

At the end of the day, she felt tired, happy and knew that the takings, plus tips were keeping the shop from its knees. They had clawed their way back and happiness once again filled their hearts.

It seemed that everyone worked hard during the summer season, as trade slackened during the winter months. Nevertheless, the bread orders were building and orders for special cakes were literally pouring in. Their latest coup, had been a daily contract from a couple of large hotels.

The welcome rush of trade had helped them all to settle quickly. They now lived in the more than spacious flat over the shop, only too grateful they didn't have to travel.

Equally well, they knew it would take a couple of good seasons before any profits could actually be seen to be made. This was the spade work, the initial preparation for the future and the hours were long and tiring. The great reward would be upon them soon enough, when once again, they could employ extra help, for the time being however, life was full and happy.

It was obvious that Jim and Ellen were deeply in love with each other, but the long hours were taking their toll. At times they both looked worn out as was Debbie and her heart went out to them. Her Pop had developed a slight stoop from constantly bending into the huge ovens. He made light of it, yet Ellen worried for him.

Within a couple of months, their world had toppled once again.

Debbie sensed something was drastically wrong when she returned from evening class. Her parents were distraught and Ellen beckoned her to a chair.

Terrified, Debbie sat down as Ellen turned to her, \"Debs, I've just learned that I'm pregnant again!\"

\"I thought you couldn't have more children,\" gasped Debbie.

\"We were told we never would, but whilst this is a dreadful shock, I am pregnant and Dad or myself will not hear of an abortion!\"

There was a distinct defiance in the statement. Jim turned to her, \"I know we can't afford this at the moment, but Mum's health will have to be watched carefully!\"

Looking into their troubled faces, Debbie knew then, that her plans for the immediate future would have to stay on 'hold'. Without compunction, she responded, \"You can rely on me. I'll be here to help, you both know that!\"

Suddenly the defiance crumbled, Ellen broke down completely and sobbed, \"Debbie, what about your studies? Oh, Jim, if only we had known!\"

\"Well, we didn't know, Ellie,\" said Jim as his arms enclosed his wife. Smoothing her hair, he looked at his daughter, \"Thank's Debs, who knows, if we go on as we are, we may well be able to afford some help?\"

Bitter stabs of disappointment rushed through Debbie. If her father was right, she could rejoin her classes, but a dreadful sense of deep foreboding had settled and although she had brought relief to her parents, she was filled with frustration.

The ensuing six months had found Ellen to be dreadfully ill. Jim and Debbie had coped with everything between them. At times they wondered how they could maintain the pace, but at least it was a temporary measure, Debbie would assure herself and found she got on so well with the customers as they frequently poured out their own problems. She also became more than eager to learn how they had solved them, if indeed they had done so.

Many friends of her own age came into chat with her. And although she was often asked to local parties, she was too jolly tired. Her apologies therefore, held that extra note of sincerity, of course she would have loved to go, but when the parties began to 'hot up', it was time for her to get up.

Almost with a jolt, she realised she had never been out on a date and began to wonder if she ever would. Jim would stack the ovens in the morning and Debbie would wait for the first load to come out. She would then take it through to the shop, or indeed prepare the hotel orders.

Even in the mornings, Jim was always cheerful and they would often sing along with the various songs on the radio, their eyes meeting and worry seemed to turn to hope.

Once the first batch was out and the second under way, Debbie would make a brew for her and Jim, he would then take a cup up to Ellen. Taking his cup one morning, he placed it onto the side and pulled her into his arms. \"I wish you didn't have to work so damned hard, Debbie. At times I feel riddled with guilt, yet a man couldn't wish for more in a daughter. Hell, though, you should be able to enjoy a party or two!\"

She noticed his voice was thick with emotion and felt the need to reassure, \"Don't worry about me, Dad. I'm young enough to catch up,\" she chuckled and returned his hug.

At times it felt strangely odd to be nearly seventeen and realise that she would soon have a brother or sister. In the evenings, she would sit for the odd hour with Ellen. Together they would knit tiny garments for the new babe. At least it seemed to relax Ellen, but with Debbie, something seriously strange was happening.

She would pick up the yarns and fondle the textures, truly fondle them and her brain would spring into action as ideas flowed at a speed that she could scarcely manage to control. Her fingers were ready, ready to pick up the ideas and before all of their eyes, the most beautiful garments would fly from the needles. It was as though she was charged into action with a magic that must have always been buried there. The textures, the ideas, the sizes, the colours, it was like dropping them into a mixing pot and pulling out perfection.

Jim and Ellen were spellbound by the skills of their beloved daughter. They also knew she was wasting her precious talent, and if it hadn't been for the kindly shopkeeper in the wool shop, who didn't mind laying yarns aside, Debbie would never have afforded the small amounts she collected.

Ellen turned her clumsy body to Jim, her voice worried, \"Jim, if Debbie can do so much with so little, just imagine what she could do with a completely free hand. We are wrecking her future and she has so much talent. Once baby arrives and I'm better, she must return to college!\"

\"She will, Ellie, but believe me, this is how she want it to be. I don't think she has a selfish bone in her body. At times I wish she did, somehow I wouldn't feel so bloody guilty. She is growing into a lovely young lady,\" he added with pride.

Debbie found her love of Morecambe had become a full blown affair. Every second she could spare was spent drinking in the beauty of the bay. She could allow her mind to think of what might have been, whilst at the same time, feel the breeze whip through her hair, giving her a taste of sheer unadulterated freedom. She adored the tranquil sea as it lapped softly onto the pure, pale sands. Conversely, she loved the roar of the angry sea as it raced in and lashed the sea wall. Leaning on the strong rail above, her dreams would run riot, but that she reminded herself, was a luxury and savoured the moments as such.

One morning as Debbie prepared to follow Jim down into the kitchens, her bedside clock seemed to smile mockingly as it informed her it was four thirty. This particular morning, she had been more than surprised to hear Ellen calling, \"Debbie, come here, luv!\"

Smiling with fondness, she left her room, calling a cheery, \"O.K Mum!\" She had inherited a good old Lancashire accent and at times, especially under pressure or excitement, she heard her parents lapse into the warmth of the northern charm.

Arriving by the side of Ellen's bed, it was obvious she was in great pain. Her face creased as she gasped, \"The babe's on its way, would you come with me, Debbie? Dad can't afford to leave the shop till the bread's baked!\"

\"Alright, Mum, I'll ring the ambulance, tell Dad and be back!\"

She tried to cover her impending fear with a light hearted chuckle and after ringing for the ambulance, went and found her father. His face was ravaged with worry as Ellen had made her way downstairs, \"Let Debs take me, Jim. I will see you later and don't worry, darling!\"

Debbie smiled to herself as she realised Ellen might just as well told him not to breathe. As they arrived into the labour ward, Ellen gripped her hand, \"I'm so relieved you came, Debs. I would have worried myself silly if Dad had closed for the day,\" she broke off as another pain racked her body.

Apparently, it was just becoming popular to involve the father in the birth. The sister turned to Debbie and almost smiled, \"You can help your Mum, can't you?\"

Terror enveloped her, she had expected to be on her way back to the shop. She knew little of this, but found herself agreeing anyway.

Turning back to her mother, she noticed the beads of perspiration forming on her forehead. Taking the proffered sponge from the nurse, she began to bathe Ellen's pain etched face. She looked dreadfully ill, her face turning puce as she pushed with every ounce of strength she possessed.

A very serious sister buzzed for the doctor. He arrived to examine Ellen and then spoke quietly to the sister as they both looked serious. There was no seeming respite from the pain and Debbie had never seen anyone suffer like this.

Somehow, she felt this would have made her father feel worse. Perhaps it was better that she should have accompanied her mother after all. To her astonishment, she realised that she had grown up fully during the last few hours.

Again she felt nails digging into her hand. With a huge struggle, her little brother was finally born. Debbie looked swiftly at the doctor's face, he was shaking his head, the sister rushed to bring in the paediatrician.

Shaking from head to toe, Debbie cradled Ellen's head and whispered, \"Mum, you're alright now. You have a little boy!\"

Ellen was not placated, tears ran down her face and her whole being seemed desperately uneasy. \"I want to hold him,\" she cried, but was given an injection instead.

Waves of sickness rushed over Debbie as she turned to the paediatrician and asked, \"Is my mother alright? Is the baby alright? Please tell me what is happening?\"

His eyes were soft and gentle, his voice kind, yet firm. Inhaling deeply, he explained, \"Your mother will be alright, she will sleep for a while. Can you ask your father to come in to see me?\"

Debbie knew then, there was something drastically wrong with the little one. Her voice was barely audible, fear had taken over completely, but looking at her mother, she saw her lovely face was now at peace, courtesy of the injection. \"I will ask my father to come directly!\"

Once outside the hospital, she took a deep breath and began to run. Resisting the urge to run and talk to the sea, to scream out her outrage and fear, she knew she must get home. Arriving breathlessly, she found there was a queue already forming outside the shop.

Biting her lip until it hurt, she unlocked the door and held it open, \"Please, everyone take a seat, give me a couple of secs and I will be with you,\" she gasped.

\"Ows yer ma, chuck?\"

The concerned enquiries almost choked her as she called over her shoulder, \"Give me half a mo., and I'll be back!\"

To her relief, she noticed the urn was already on, rolls and bread were placed neatly behind the counter, ready to serve as she scampered into the kitchen and practically collided with Jim. For one dreadful moment, she thought she would break down as her arms went around him. He held her as a child, \"I know, dear. The hospital have told me they wish to see me. I will be as quick as poss., but if you feel under too much pressure, close up. The orders are completed!\"

Her eyes misted as he physically squared his shoulders and left to face whatever he must. She followed his example, it was down to her and she wouldn't let her family down, her shoulders thrown back, her smile back on her face, she set about her work.

The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity. And although she basically worked on 'automatic' her sunny disposition was clouded with severe worry for her parents. Her nerves seemed to jar during the odd quiet moment. Part of her prayed for her father's return, whilst at the same time, she dreaded it. When he finally dragged himself wearily up to the flat, she could see his naked pain.

Suddenly, he looked old, his face was ashen, his eyes haunted as he sat down. \"Debs, although Mum is very ill, she will be alright, but little Tony is chronically handicapped!\"

He seemed to notice the fear spring to her eyes, his shoulders slumped in bitter dejection, \"Hell, you have had to place your career on hold and Mum and I are desperately worried about the future. I feel I have let you all down badly, perhaps I did choose the wrong blasted profession, I'm so bloody sorry!\"

\"Don't ever say that again, Dad. I wanted to be here with you and Mum and we must just do our best!\"

Momentarily, his eyes lit up. \"You're right, dear. We must do our best for Mum and Tony. I never stopped thanking God for you, we love you dearly,\" he muttered affectionately.

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