The Constant Heart

by Dilly Court

Once again, she realised what a sight she must present. She had seen enough prostitutes in the Ratcliff Highway to know what they looked like, and that was obviously what the gatekeeper imagined was her profession. She turned and walked away with her head held high and her heart aching. She glanced up at the forbidding edifice, wondering where Walter was confined. She had thought it might help to know where he was, but the reality of Newgate was far more terrible than the place she had imagined. She trudged, head down, away from the prison, not particularly caring where she was going and without any idea as to what to do next. She walked slowly along Newgate Street towards Cheapside. It was a hot day, even for the beginning of September; she was tired and hungry and her spirits were so low that she could barely think. Then it came to her that there was one other person to whom she might turn: a man of the law. Septimus Sumption had advised her to seek out Roland and he had promised to follow up Walter's case. She would go and see him now in the hope that he would have discovered some evidence of Walter's innocence that would stand up in court.

  She caught the green Bow omnibus to Whitechapel where she alighted on the corner of Church Lane and she set off walking to Naked Boy Yard. It was late in the afternoon by the time she reached Septimus's miserable rooms, and the stench of stale alcohol assailed her nostrils before he had even opened the door. He stared blearily at her, running his hand through his tousled hair.

  'I think you've got the wrong door, young lady.'

  Rosina was too tired and anxious to bother with the niceties. She pushed past him. 'I came to see you, Mr Sumption.' She stepped over a pile of discarded clothing on the floor and made her way to the only clear spot, which was a bare patch of tattered drugget in front of the empty grate.

  'You'll have to excuse me, but I don't recall ever meeting you before.' Septimus staggered over to his chair and sat down heavily. He reached for a bottle and poured a hefty measure of brandy into a glass.

  Rosina stood her ground, waiting until he had gulped a mouthful of the spirit. 'My name is Rosina May. I came to you some time ago on behalf of my friend, Walter Brown. You advised me to travel to Rotterdam to see Mr Roland Rivers. You were supposed to be investigating the case.'

  He held up his hand. 'Not so fast. My head is spinning.' He took another drink, squinting at her with one eye closed. 'I do seem to recall your face. Very pretty.'

  'I need your help, sir.'

  He threw back his head and laughed. 'My help. That's a good one. Look at me, my dear. I can't even help myself.'

  She was in no mood to argue. Rosina moved towards him and took the glass from his hand. She snatched up the brandy bottle before he could reach for it. 'Now, will you listen to me?'

  'A woman of spirit. I like that. But you'd better start at the beginning. My memory ain't what it used to be. Just give me back the bottle . . .'

  'Not yet, Mr Sumption.' Rosina sat on the pile of law books and began at the beginning, taking him slowly through the events leading up to the present. He listened, apparently attentively, although his eyes did stray rather too often to the brandy bottle clutched in her hand, but he made no attempt to wrest it from her. When she had finished he was silent for a few moments, his forehead creased in thoughtful lines.

  'Well,' he said, after a while, 'you are in a pickle, my dear.'

  'Never mind me, Mr Sumption. I want you to help Walter.'

  'My God, I wish I had a woman like you to care for me. I might not be in the sorry state in which you find me if I had someone to love me.'

  Rosina set the glass and bottle down on the floor and she slid off the pile of books to kneel before him. Taking his hands in hers, she looked him in the eyes. 'And I'm sure you will, if only you would stop killing yourself with drink. But that is another matter. I don't need help for myself. I can look after my family and I still have the sailing barge. It is mine now and I intend to make it profitable.'

  He smiled. 'I don't doubt it, Miss May. But what do you want from a poor wreck like me?'

  'I want you to act for Walter. I cannot pay you at the moment, but I will in time I promise you that. I don't know any other lawyers, and old – I mean, Mr Jamjar of the exotic bird shop spoke highly of your abilities. If you could get Walter acquitted I'm sure it would do much to build your practice up again. Will you help me, Mr Sumption? Please? I'm begging you on my knees to act for Walter when his case comes up before the judge.'

  'I'm not sure that I can help you. It's a long time since I accepted a brief such as this.'

  'You are my last chance. I know you can do it.' Rosina glanced round at the books and papers littered all about the room, spilling off shelves and piled precariously on every available surface. 'You've got all this book learning. You're a clever man. Please say you'll at least look into Walter's case.'

  'I ain't a grasping, greedy sort of fellow, but I have to live. I can't take on a case for nothing, much as I would like to oblige you.'

  Rosina's hand flew to the gold chain around her neck. She could feel the locket lodged between her breasts, warm from contact with her body. She had pawned everything else that she owned, but she had clung to this link with Will as a drowning woman might cling to a spar. She undid the clasp and dangled the locket in front of Septimus's eyes. 'Take this as my pledge. I will redeem it when I have funds. It is worth something to you, but to me it is priceless. And, if you see Walter, just show him the contents and he will know that you act on my instructions.'

  He took it in his hand, closing his fingers over the locket. 'I need a drink.'

  'No you don't. That stuff addles your brain. Please, I'm begging you to help us.'

  'Well, it would be a challenge.' Septimus leaned forward and raised Rosina to her feet. 'I'm a worthless sort of fellow, who hides his failures at the bottom of a brandy bottle, but you are a brave and beautiful young woman, and, for you, I will make an effort to stay sober just long enough to make enquiries about your friend. More I cannot promise.'

  Rosina left the building in Naked Boy Yard with mixed feelings. She did not doubt his sincerity, but whether Septimus could stay off the drink for long enough to carry out his promise to help was another matter.

  It was late afternoon and she had eaten nothing since a slice of bread at breakfast time. Her limbs felt heavy and exhaustion was creeping up on her, stealing her will to continue any further that day. It was a long walk to Limehouse where the Ellie May was berthed at Etheredge's repair yard, and an even longer trek back from there to Black Eagle Wharf. She was forced to acknowledge that it was too late either to visit the yard or to find alternative lodgings, and she would have to trespass on the Smilies' hospitality for another night. Her feet were sore and her legs aching as she trudged onwards through the back doubles and narrow alleyways towards the river. For the first time since his death, she was glad that her papa was not here to witness the sorry state in which she found herself. He would be horrified if he could see her now in her dishevelled condition, wandering the mean streets alone, unprotected and open to the insults and indecent proposals from men looking for a cheap thrill in a dark doorway.

  *

  Rosina was close to collapse by the time she reached Sam's shop. She had thought to offer them payment for another night spent in their parlour, but as soon as she entered the shop she could tell from Sam's expression that something was wrong.

  'What is it, Sam?' she asked anxiously. 'What's happened?'

  'It's the scarlet fever, or so my missis thinks.'

  Her knees trembled and Rosina clutched at the shop counter for support. 'Who's sick?'

  'Me eldest boy, Jim. And Gladys thinks that the youngest two might be coming down with it. We had to send Caddie and her nippers away out of danger and Miss Spinks went with them. I'm sorry, ducks. But you'd best not come in.'

  'Where did they go, Sam?' She was desperately sorry for the Smilies, but could hardly believe the continued ill fortune that might leave them without shelter and with nightfall not many hours away.

  'Caddie said to tell you
that she's taken them back to the tunnel, and you'd know where to find them. I'm sorry, I truly am.' Sam reached beneath the counter and produced a bundle wrapped in butter muslin. 'Gladys packed up a bit of food to keep you going. She's out of her mind with worry, but she's a good woman and she wouldn't see no one go hungry.'

  'Thank her for me, Sam. I hope the boys get well soon, and I can't thank you enough for all your kindness.' Fighting exhaustion and a feeling of desperation, Rosina hurried from the shop clutching the bundle; she headed off once again in the direction of the Thames tunnel.

  She found them all huddled together in a dark alcove not far from the entrance.

  'Where've you been all day?' Bertha demanded crossly. 'You should have stayed to see that we was all right and not gone gallivanting off on some fool's errand.'

  Rosina squatted down on the damp floor, ignoring Bertha's outburst, and she unwrapped the parcel of food. 'I'll explain later. You'll feel better when you've had something to eat.'

  'Better!' Bertha puffed out her chest, glancing nervously into the dank depths of the tunnel. 'I can't stay in this terrible place a moment longer. I can't believe as how it's come to this – us living like sewer rats or toshers. What would the captain say if he could see us now?'

  Caddie laid her hand on Bertha's arm. 'Don't upset yourself so. It can't be helped.'

  Bertha shook free from her grasp. 'That's easy for you to say. You're used to living like this but I ain't. My rheumatics is playing me up already in this disgusting hole.'

  Ronnie and Alfie fell on the food, cramming bread into their mouths and staring wide-eyed at Bertha. Caddie hitched the baby over her shoulder, casting an anxious look at Rosina. 'What shall us do? Bertha's right. We can't stay here forever, and my babies might already have caught the sickness.'

  Rosina nibbled a piece of dry bread, leaving the heel of cheese for Bertha and Caddie to eat. Their plight was desperate. She toyed with the idea of spending some of the money in her purse on a night's lodgings, but abandoned the thought immediately. They were safe down here, if not comfortable. She managed a weak smile. 'We will have to make the best of it for tonight, but I promise you we will find somewhere much more suitable tomorrow. We will start out at first light and go to Etheredge's Wharf. We still have the barge, and I have found a man of the law who will help free Walter. Once we are back in business, everything will be all right again.' She had spoken with more confidence than she was feeling, but her words seemed to have a soothing effect on Bertha and Caddie. There was nothing more she could do now, other than try to sleep on the hard ground in the eerie, echoing tunnel, listening to the constant drip, drip, drip of the water running down the brick walls.

  Next morning, Rosina struggled to maintain a cheerful exterior as the small party made their way to Etheredge's boatyard. The children were fretful and Caddie was almost beside herself, watching them for symptoms of the dreaded scarlet fever. Bertha grumbled all the way, complaining of everything from sore feet to sunstroke. It came, therefore, as a welcome surprise when they finally reached Etheredge's to find that the repairs to the barge were completed. At least one of Rosina's fears was allayed: she had thought that the Gostellows might have gone back on their word, but it seemed that the work had been paid for in advance, and the account had been settled. The Ellie May was now hers and the barge was ready to resume trading.

  'There's only one thing, miss,' the foreman said, frowning. 'We got plenty of work on hand and we needs the space. You're going to have to move the vessel away from the wharf as soon as possible, and today for preference. We've already kept her here longer than we would normally. We heard that your dad had passed away, and we're all very sorry. He was a good man, but business is business. You do understand, don't you?'

  Rosina managed to nod her head and to flash him a bright smile. 'Of course. Leave it to me.'

  'Well?' Bertha said impatiently. 'What did he say?'

  'He said we've got to move the boat today.' Rosina stared at the swirling waters of Limehouse Hole, a deep part of Limehouse Reach where ships could turn with ease. She might be used to sailing on a Thames barge, but she had no clear idea how to steer the boat or trim the sails. She cast a desperate glance at Caddie. 'I can't sail her. I don't know how.'

  Caddie squared her shoulders. 'I never done it on me own, but I've sailed with Artie afore he got the job with Captain May. We worked a lighter taking coal from the barges to the wharves. I reckon we could manage between us to shift her to another wharf.'

  The foreman, apparently overhearing this conversation, cleared his throat with a polite cough. 'Er, excuse me, young ladies. Did I hear you right? Are you thinking of sailing the barge out into the reach on your own?'

  Rosina eyed him warily. 'And what if we were?'

  'Well, don't take me wrong, miss. But you ain't a freeman of the Watermen's Company by any chance, are you?'

  'No, indeed I am not.'

  'Nor, if you'll pardon my saying so, are you a qualified skipper.'

  'No, but my friend here is accustomed to working on a lighter in the Pool of London. I think we two can manage to shift the Ellie May.'

  'Look, miss. Again, don't take no offence, but it's a bit tricky on this here stretch of the river. If you'll let me, I'll lend you one of my men. He'll make sure that you gets safely to a wharf downstream.'

  'Thank you, sir,' Rosina said, stifling a sigh of relief. 'That would be most kind.'

  He tipped his cap. 'It's the least I can do for Captain May's daughter.' He turned abruptly and walked away, shouting instructions to one of his men to help the young ladies make sail and move the vessel to another wharf.

  'And what's to become of me and the nippers while you two are playing at being sailors?' Bertha demanded crossly. 'Are we to sit on the muddy foreshore and wait for the tide to come in and collect us like bits of flotsam?'

  Rosina exchanged worried glances with Caddie. 'We can't very well take the little ones on the boat.'

  Caddie nodded in agreement. 'No, indeed. It would be ever so dangerous.'

  'Well, I ain't no nursemaid. Not to a baby and little tykes like them two.'

  Rosina pulled her purse from her reticule and took out a shiny silver florin. 'Take them to the Bunch of Grapes pub over there.' She pointed to the building. 'Maybe the landlord will let you sit in the parlour with them until we can get back. You could enquire about a cheap lodging house or some rooms that we might be able to rent.'

  Bertha took the coin and stuffed it into her pocket. 'Well, I suppose that would be all right. Maybe the landlord's wife might let me have a bit of milk for the nippers.'

  'Hungry,' murmured Alfie, rubbing his tummy.

  'Me too,' Ronnie said, nodding his head. 'Want a drink.'

  Caddie passed the baby to Bertha. 'We'll be back as soon as we can, Bertha. You threaten the boys with a good spanking if they play up. I won't stand for badly behaved children.'

  'Huh!' Bertha said with feeling. 'They wouldn't dare. Bertha Spinks don't stand for no tantrums. Come on, you two. One word out of place and you'll get a thick ear.'

  Rosina watched her as she stomped off towards the pub with the two little boys skipping along behind her. She turned with a start as someone plucked at her sleeve.

  'Master has sent me to take you out into the reach.' A tall, gangly young man dragged off his cloth cap and grinned at her shyly. 'Pip, miss. Me name is Pip.'

  She eyed him curiously. His weather-beaten face was plain to the point of being ugly, with a nose which had obviously, at some time in the past, met with a fist or a blunt instrument that had broken the bone, and now it had a slightly comical crooked appearance. His lopsided smile was impossible to resist. 'Thank you, Pip. We would be most grateful for your help.'

  He nodded. 'Tide's right. We should cast off now, afore it turns.

  Rosina hesitated: she was suddenly afraid, although of what she was not quite certain. She had never feared the river; it had always seemed like an old friend, but then her papa had been the mas
ter of the Ellie May. Caddie on the other hand seemed to have no such forebodings. She was about to descend the ladder from the wharf to the barge when Pip leapt onto the deck to assist her. He swung her down as easily as if she had been a featherweight, and then he held his hands out to Rosina. Taking a deep breath, she allowed him to help her down onto the barge. He looked from Rosina to Caddie. 'Excuse me for being so bold, but do either of you two ladies know how to steer a boat?'