Another Life

by Sara MacDonald

  ‘Exactly!’ Then Marika thought about this. ‘Maybe I am judging you. But Josh, I can not understand how you can seem to stop caring and worrying about someone overnight.’

  ‘Did I say I had stopped caring?’

  ‘Of course I know in my heart that it is not possible that you do not still love Gabby, she is your mother. But to let her go on thinking you might not care … when you are so much part of her life. To go on with this for so long, that is what I am having difficulty with. I do not want that ever to be me.’

  Josh said quietly, ‘I could write or speak to Gabby and say something trite I do not mean. I could do it to please you, to sleep better at night. But I would not mean anything I say now, and until I can speak words I truly feel I will not speak to her at all, Marika.’

  Marika nodded. ‘I see that. You are honest.’ She held out her hand. ‘Good luck with your posting.’

  Josh felt sick, could not take her hand. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I am going back to Sarajevo to teach for a while.’

  Josh stared at her, laughed, threw back his head in pain.

  ‘I can’t believe this is happening. I’m going to wake up. This is a bloody nightmare. Marika, I love you. That’s it. I have no doubts. It’s always going to be you. I want to marry you and live in army quarters in Germany with you … I can’t get my head round … this …’

  Marika was crying without sound. ‘I love you, too. Do you think I can believe this either? Can you not feel something? Say something you mean to Gabby before you leave? Can you not find anything in your heart for her before you get on that plane?’

  Josh turned and made for the door. He did not look back once. He got in the car and drove and drove with no idea where he was going. It was only a few hours later he realized he was heading home to Cornwall. As he bumped down the lane he saw Nell’s familiar figure feeding the bantams and Charlie way up by the new houses, ploughing, with the seagulls flocking behind him, diving in the new-turned earth. He thought for a second Nell was Gabby, that she was home. He suddenly remembered an odd dream he had once, where Gabby disappeared in mist, and how disturbed he had felt.

  He turned the engine off and sat, his shoulders shaking with grief.

  Gabby, Gabby. She had always been here, at the farm, always. Not a part of his childhood, the whole of it. There at the school gates, hair as dark and shiny as a raven’s wing, smiling at his anxious little face.

  There in the dark if he was ill. Long days down at the cove where she read to him until her voice gave out … Endless days running wild with friends, but she was always there in the kitchen at the end of them … and he knew, knew she loved him above all others. There was Charlie, Nell and Elan, but they all had other lives and interests.

  The sea and the sky and the fields and the farm were theirs, his and Gabby’s. The canvas of his life and the security. A thing he could return to again and again with his own children. His parents, a perfect painting he could walk into any time, because the dynamics would never change.

  But they had, and the shock of it … the terror of memories of happiness crumbling into something less perfect than the ones that lived inside his head, the terror of getting too close and hearing words that would shatter all that he believed he had shared here with the people he loved, was a thing Josh could not risk.

  He drove the car into the side of the lane and jumped over the hedge, made his way across the fields and down into the cove. He sat on the jagged rocks throwing stones into the dark November sea. A little dinghy with a tan gaff-rigged sail was tacking bravely across the mouth of the cove, flying with the wind back and forth. It took a brave man to sail on this coast and Josh thought about his mother’s figurehead, when small boats without engines would set forth valiantly for foreign shores through seas that would make most men quail nowadays.

  The fishermen, the lifeboat men, and the air-sea rescue were the heroes now. He had watched them all his life chugging back and forth across the cove from the harbour, disappearing into huge vicious seas. He had looked up at the helicopters clattering across the sky, buzzing along the coastline during long hot summers. It was partly why he had wanted to fly.

  He looked up at the cliffs where the noise of the tractor and Charlie were lost in the pounding of the waves, and he felt what he suddenly realized Charlie felt every single day; the continuation of something, Charlie’s pride in the land that had been ploughed by his father and his father’s father. It would skip a generation, but Josh had a sense of his own son here and the shadows of his ancestors.

  Whatever, life went on and you adapted, if you were wise. He jumped from the rocks, took a last look at the rough sea and made his way up the path, home.

  He had been furious with his mother, but he knew he could never stop loving her. The memories of those long golden days were indelible, he saw that now. They could not be taken away by either words or deeds. They were a part of what he was; Gabby had made sure of that. He could and always would look back on his childhood with utter happiness.

  Chapter 81

  The small boat arrived on the Brittany coast at dawn. It had been an uncomfortable crossing and Isabella and Lisette disembarked with relief. The only person who had slept was small Thomas, who lay in his father’s arms throughout the voyage.

  A gentleman was leaning on the quay wall waiting for them. He introduced himself as a Captain Abrahams. He saw Isabella shivering and suggested they all boarded his vessel without delay so that she might drink tea to revive her and then she could rest in her cabin. He called them Mr and Mrs Foye and guided them quickly in the dark to the vessel which was moored to the quay. Isabella saw with a shock that it was the Lady Isabella.

  I have booked you on the safest vessel I know. She turned to Tom and saw that he knew and the irony was not lost on him. She looked upon the wooden features of herself and her fear rose again. Was it wise to escape to a new life on her husband’s ship? She kept her hood tight around her head as she was helped aboard. She did not know how much the captain knew of their circumstances.

  They were shown to their cabins. Tom and Isabella in one, with Lisette and the baby next door. The captain smiled before he left them.

  ‘I am very happy to have you onboard my ship. Mr Vyvyan and my father grew up together and we have long owed him a favour … I hope you will be comfortable. We set sail within the hour.’

  Isabella sank down onto the small bunk.

  ‘Tom,’ she said, ‘to sail on the Lady Isabella … is it not perverse? Is it not bad luck?’

  Tom looked down on her.‘The Lady Isabella is bound for Newfoundland, Isabella, and Sir Richard is no longer the owner. He sold the schooner on to your father. There were passages to be had on her and your father knows the captain, and most of all, as faras he was concerned, this is the safest and most comfortable ship there is.’

  Isabella sighed. ‘You are right. I am tired and anxious and it seems odd to be on this ship, that is all.’

  She looked around and tried to cheer herself. ‘I had forgotten how comfortable you and Ben made the cabins.’ She smiled. ‘Perhaps you are right, Tom, this is going to be a more comfortable voyage than we have had so far.’

  Lisette changed Thomas and then handed him to Isabella.

  ‘Feed Thomas, Miss Isabella, and then I will come and take him while you sleep.’

  ‘I do not think I will sleep until we are underway.’

  Lisette went to her own cabin and Tom undid his case and took out a thick fisherman’s jersey and hat.

  ‘I am too restless to stay still, Isabella. I will go up on deck while you feed young Thomas. I am not far away. I think it best that you and Lisette keep to your cabins until after we have sailed.’

  Isabella lay on her bunk with the baby at her breast.

  She crooned softly to Thomas. He was happy and as he lay in her arms he suddenly smiled at Isabella and she laughed with delight.

  ‘Thomas smiled, Lisette,’ Isabella said as Lisette came int
o the cabin.

  Lisette laughed. ‘I think my little bird has the wind. The sun is about to rise, Miss Isabella, on a new day.’

  They stared at each other. Neither could really believe they were leaving England.

  ‘You are brave to accompany me, Lisette. I am so glad to have you with me. We have been through much, you and I, have we not?’

  ‘We have indeed, Miss Isabella. I surprise myself at journeying at my age, but I looked after you and I will look after my little Thomas until he no longer needs me.’

  ‘He is very lucky. Will you leave him with me? He is so cosy here and fast asleep.’

  ‘No, Miss Isabella, you must rest. You are exhausted and feeding Thomas. I will return him to you in an hour or so.’

  Isabella kissed the top of Thomas’s head and handed him to Lisette. Then she slept almost immediately. She stirred when the gangplank was withdrawn. She faintly heard the sound of the ropes and chains and footsteps about the deck but slept again, the deep, exhausted sleep of someone who had not slept for days.

  There was a sudden draught as the cabin door opened, then it was quickly shut again, but Isabella did not stir.

  Tom watched the sun edge over the land and turn the new day a brilliant gold that sparkled across the water. This was a new beginning. He was responsible for two lives, not just his own. He thought of the voyage ahead and prayed for good weather and a safe passage.

  Behind him the ship was all activity as they made ready to sail. Relatives and friends were making hasty goodbyes. He heard the gangplank pulled up and turned suddenly with a need to make sure all was well below.

  He caught a snatch of colour on the quay, three people walking quickly away from the ship. The gap between land and sea was widening. He clattered down the steps to the cabins. Lisette’s cabin door was ajar and he leant inside but it was empty. He pushed his own cabin door open and Isabella was sitting upright trying to wake up. She stared at him, trying to remember where she was, and Tom went to her, gently pushed her hair from her eyes, said, ‘Did Lisette take the baby on deck?’

  Isabella looked at him. ‘I fell asleep. I think they are in her cabin, next door.’

  ‘I will go and look for her. Lie back and wake up slowly.’

  Tom went into Lisette’s cabin and looked around. Her luggage was there and her cloak. He went back on deck and walked right around a ship he knew every inch of. For a moment he leant on the rail and fought his fear.

  He went to find the captain. He listened to Tom and then sent two sailors to search again round the ship and in each cabin. The Lady Isabella was not a large vessel and there were few places for a woman and baby to disappear into.

  It was then the second mate knocked on the door.

  ‘Captain, it was just as the last guests were leaving. A woman between two men was being pushed towards the gangplank. I saw her anxiety and that she was carrying a child, but as I went towards the gangway to help her the two men caught her up and with a flourish lifted her off her feet and off the ship and away, one taking the baby for her. I thought no more about it … but now … I’m sorry I did not say anything …’

  Tom turned pale and hurried back to Isabella. She was standing in Lisette’s cabin holding a letter.

  ‘Where is Lisette, Tom? Where is the baby?’

  ‘What have you got there?’

  ‘I have just picked it up from the floor.’

  Tom tore it open.

  We have the authority of the English courts and the French police to make the arrest of Lady Isabella Magor for the abduction of Sir Richard Magor’s son, Richard Daniel Charles Magor, aged two months. A court order was gained on … forbidding his removal from English soil pending the custody hearing in June … Lady Isabella Magor’s arrest May be avoided if the child is returned forthwith to his legal father …

  Isabella stared at Tom, clutched him, knew by his face. ‘Where are Lisette and the baby, Tom?’

  ‘They are gone from the ship, Isabella,’ Tom whispered. ‘Taken.’

  He saw again that flash of colour, the two men bundling someone between them. ‘Come, we must go to the captain.’

  Isabella gave a long, low, agonizing moan of despair and Tom was reminded of the cows in the fields when their calves were taken, heads raised to the sky in an endless lament.

  ‘Come,’ he said gently.

  The captain looked down at the piece of paper.

  ‘I doubt this is a genuine legal document. The words seem couched to frighten …’

  He hesitated. ‘Unfortunately Sir Richard is a very influential and powerful man. A lot of our jobs ride on his recommendation. Did you know he sold the Lady Isabella to your father only three weeks ago? It was difficult to understand why when the tonnage is good, but …’ he stared at Isabella, ‘… I understand now. Your likeness to the figurehead is profound …’

  He stopped, seeing her distress. ‘I am sorry; this is nothing to you at this moment. We stop briefly at Cadiz for two more passengers; I will go to the British Consul as soon as we arrive. I am sorry, I can do no more than this at present.’

  He stood up and went round his desk to stand with them.

  ‘I was asked to take care of you and it seems I did not take the request seriously enough, knowing none of the circumstances. The only comfort, Lady Isabella, is that your baby will not come to harm. He will, in these circumstances, be given the greatest care.’

  ‘He is only two months old,’ Isabella whispered, then vehemently, ‘I have not been Lady Isabella for some time. I do not use that title.’

  ‘I am so very sorry,’ the captain said again.

  ‘Thank you,’ Tom said, ‘I do not think there is anything you could have done to prevent this. It would have been executed in one way or another. In one place or another.’

  Back in their cabin Tom ordered tea and made Isabella drink, helped her undress and placed her under the covers. She whimpered like a small animal and it broke Tom’s heart.

  ‘Hold me,’ she whispered. ‘Hold me, Tom.’

  He climbed into the tiny bunk and lay awkwardly holding her until he thought she slept, and then he fell into a restless sleep himself. He woke and her skin was burning, her petticoats sodden and she could not speak to him coherently.

  Tom went to the jug and bathed her face, and then frightened he went out to find help. There was a middle-aged woman taking a turn round the deck and Tom asked her if she would come to look at his wife who was unwell. The woman went with him willingly and bent immediately to Isabella.

  ‘Where is your child?’ she asked Isabella. ‘You need to feed the child.’

  Tom could not answer and just shook his head.

  The woman, thinking Isabella’s child must have died, said, ‘Oh the poor dear. Will you please call the steward and would you mind going to my cabin, number twenty-four, and calling my daughter to come and assist me with your wife?’

  Tom left the women and went up on deck. There was a sudden and terrible heaviness in him. He moved to the front of the ship, watching the water racing past the gown of his figurehead. Her head was raised proudly in front of the ship. Lady Isabella.

  He had brought this about. Isabella might now be standing in her garden at Mylor, bored perhaps, but safe. Not enduring a fever on a ship going hundreds of miles to a place she could not even imagine, without her child.

  He had seen how tight and painful her breasts were. How she flinched when touched. How would those women fix her heart? A woman whose baby had been snatched so cruelly from her.

  When Tom returned to the cabin Isabella looked cooler. The two women had bound her breasts tightly to try and stop the milk coming and Tom felt awkward and useless and to blame.

  He kept thinking of his tiny son taken from under his nose and guilt and tiredness made him want to curl into a ball. He had done nothing but travel for months to reach Isabella and his child, and when he reached them he was incapable of protecting either.

  Isabella, seeing his face, held out her hand. �
��Tom, it is not your fault. I know that is what you are thinking.’

  ‘It is. Isabella, are you feeling better?’

  ‘I will for a little while, but the pain will return. Tom, poor Lisette, she must have been so frightened.’

  ‘She will not let anything happen to her Thomas.’

  ‘That is true.’

  ‘I think Sir Richard may not have the law on his side.’

  ‘Tom, how will Lisette feed Thomas? He will be so hungry. He is still so small.’

  ‘I think your husband will have thought of that. He has thought carefully about many things concerning you and the baby. He will not hurt Thomas; he merely wants to own him.’

  ‘But he cannot, he is our baby.’

  ‘We will reach Cadiz in two or three days and the captain will wait for the mail boat while oranges are loaded. I hope we have word from your father while we are there.’

  There was no word waiting when they arrived in Cadiz. The captain went to the British Consul and found them unhelpful. There really was nothing they could do. No crime had been committed on Spanish soil. It was an internal matter for the French and English authorities.

  He returned to the ship. He was sorry, he told Tom, but he could not delay the sailing of his ship for more than a day. There were other passengers and too much money involved in the timing of their destination.

  Isabella and Tom dared not alight from the ship. Tom was afraid now of Sir Richard’s extended powers and terrified Isabella too would be taken from him. They were standing at the rail, four hours from sailing, when they saw the Peninsular Steam Navigation Company appear over the horizon carrying the mail from Falmouth.

  Isabella stood clutching Tom, praying there was word from her father.

  There was. It was short and to the point and obvious he had written in a hurry to catch the mail boat.

  My Dear Daughter,

  I am afraid all is as I feared. My grandson and Lisette are returned to England in custody of the court. They are both safe and well. Lisette is still in charge of Thomas in Falmouth and she has employed a wet nurse.