Where Seagulls Soar

by Janet Woods

  Then there was the father who’d lovingly carved the cradle for the daughter he’d thought he’d lost. Circumstance had eventually joined them, but it had been the wrong circumstance, leading to a hasty marriage of convenience. That had forced them apart once again, and had set in motion a chain of events that had been the downfall of the Darsham and Morcant Shipping Company. Gabriel Tremayne, as her father was now called, was a tough, unselfish man – a man she’d grown to love and respect in the short time she’d known him.

  Toby’s eyes began to droop as she rocked him back and forth. He only just fitted in the cradle. ‘Sleep, little man, you’ve had two busy days,’ she whispered. ‘May your pa come to guide you in your dreams.’

  Thaddeus had come home, Joanna could hear the rumble of his voice as she went downstairs.

  His smile was sympathetic as she went into the drawing room, his voice brusque with the emotion he was trying to hold back. ‘How are you bearing up, girl?’

  ‘I keep thinking it’s all been a mistake, that Alex will go back to the house alive and well, find it boarded up and think we’ve left him. I don’t want to believe he’s gone. It happened too quickly.’

  ‘Aye, it did, but maybe that was a blessing. You’ll get used to living without him.’

  She crossed the room and kissed him. ‘I shall have to. You and Charlotte married without telling me, I understand.’

  ‘We did at that. I reckoned I’d waited long enough and had better get the vows said before she changed her mind.’ Thaddeus aimed a smile at Charlotte, who promptly blushed.

  Joanna’s numbness soon wore off. The pit of despair she then plunged into was made all the more unbearable by Charlotte’s happiness. Joanna tried not to show her grief during the day.

  But at night her body betrayed her when she thought of Alex, and she was appalled by the thought that she could feel the need for the flesh to be satisfied when she had no husband to share that particular intimacy with. She lost her appetite, but forced herself to eat so her milk didn’t dry up. The tears she shed at night bit into her sleep. Soon her tiredness took a toll on her and she began to look as strained as she felt.

  Only Toby kept her sane over the following two months. His frustration in his attempts to crawl brought a smile to her face as he rocked back and forth on his hands and knees. He soon outgrew the cradle. Now he was sleeping in a cast-iron cot Charlotte had found in the attic. It rattled and clanged when he grasped two of the bars and shook them, which he did as often as possible.

  Sometimes his progress was watched intently by Albert, the tabby cat Alex had given her. The pair talked to each other, Albert with perfectly modulated meows, and Toby with shrieks and chuckles.

  Joanna spent most of her time closeted in the private sitting room attached to her bedroom, or sometimes in the garden, where her active son could enjoy some freedom of expression without annoying anyone. After a while she began to feel penned in. She hadn’t been raised to live a life of idleness.

  One fine day in August she placed Toby in his carriage, with the intention of setting off for town. On the way out she passed a man who was writing down something in a small notebook. He was tall and well-dressed, and doffed his hat politely when he saw her.

  It was a good walk. Joanna enjoyed the sun against her face, though her dark gown seemed to draw the heat and perspiration trickled between her breasts. The air had a slight humidity to it and was heavy with the scent of roses, flowers which seemed to bloom in every garden she passed. How intense the perfume was.

  She walked slowly through the park and along the busy quay, dotted with vendors of cockles and whelks, and a brazier over which eels were being smoked. The smell of eels seemed particularly unpleasant today, and as she passed the stall she averted her eyes from the long black creatures with their sharp teeth and staring eyes.

  ‘Smoked eel, missus?’ someone said hopefully, and the oily smell grew stronger, so it cloyed her throat.

  Charlotte didn’t like her coming to the quay. But to Joanna the dockers busy unloading the ships with their roughly shouted jokes and laughter were just an interesting part of the landscape. When they cheekily doffed their caps, or shouted, ‘It’s a grand day, my lovely,’ to her as she passed, she smiled at their greetings.

  Headed for a café in the High Street, not far away, Joanna intended to rest and refresh herself before returning home.

  Heat was being thrown up from the ground and the water had taken on a white glare. She could taste the greasy eel smoke on her tongue. Overcome by a slight nausea and dizziness, she looked for somewhere shady to sit and rest, but the quay was devoid of shade. Good grief, was she going to faint? She was.

  Although she tried desperately to hold on to her fading senses, she sank to her knees, automatically releasing the baby carriage so it wouldn’t tip over. To her horror, the carriage slowly rolled off towards the edge of the quay. She could see Toby gazing at her, laughing through Alex’s face, as if she were playing a game with him.

  ‘No! Oh my God, don’t let our son be taken from me, Alex,’ she whispered irrationally as the light faded around her.

  The shriek of a seagull brought Joanna round. She opened her eyes to the sight of one perched on a bollard a little way off. How clean it looked with its grey and white jacket, jaunty red boots and bright yellow bill.

  ‘Lucian Morcant,’ she murmured, feeling oddly comforted by the bird’s presence.

  ‘Seth Adams,’ someone said.

  Its head cocked to one side, the bird observed her for a moment, then rose gracefully into the air and glided away.

  Joanna was puzzled when she discovered her head was resting on someone’s lap. In this upside-down position she didn’t recognize his face or the steady grey eyes, so filled with concern.

  Her eyes widened and she struggled to get up as she remembered, her son’s name bursting from her lips. ‘Toby!’

  ‘Your child is safe,’ he soothed, and, rising, he helped her regain her feet.

  Joanna clung to his arms for a dizzying moment. When her head cleared she saw her child in the arms of another man. The pram was on its side, right near the edge of the quay.

  There was no mistaking Tilda’s brother, with his long face, muddy eyes and taut mouth. Leonard never usually found much to smile about, but he smiled now, mainly because Toby was gazing at him with a pouting lower lip, deciding whether to laugh or cry after his spill. ‘Leonard?’ she said wonderingly.

  Joanna hurried to take Toby in her arms when that pout began to tremble, holding him tightly against her. ‘Shush, my love. You’re safe.’

  ‘I heard a shout from that gent there, saw the carriage coming and managed to catch a wheel with a boat hook before it went into the water. It was a close thing.’

  ‘Thank you, Leonard, I’m in your debt.’ Joanna shuddered as she thought of what might have happened. She turned to the stranger. ‘And you, sir. My thanks.’

  ‘You still look pale. Are you sure you’re all right?’

  ‘It was a silly faint, brought on by the heat, I expect.’

  The man wore an expensive looking frock coat, but his grey trousers were soiled from kneeling on the ground. Brown wavy hair streaked with gold gleamed in the sunshine. He gazed at her, in a frankly assessing way that made her conscious of herself. Inanely, she said, ‘I’m afraid your trouser legs have become dusty. Mr . . . um?’

  A faintly cynical expression flitted across his face as he slapped the grime off with his immaculate leather gloves. He bowed slightly. ‘Seth Adams is my name.’

  ‘Ah yes, of course. Didn’t I see you outside Mrs Scott’s residence on Constitution Hill?’

  ‘You may have, since I’ve just walked down from there. There’s a fine view from the top. Will you introduce yourself ?’

  ‘Joanna Morcant . . . Mrs,’ she hastened to add. ‘And this is my cousin, Leonard Rushmore.’

  When his glance seemed to sharpen in on her she gained an impression that he didn’t miss much. He aimed a casual
nod in Leonard’s direction. ‘That was a quick reaction, Mr Rushmore.’

  ‘It was down to you, sir. If you hadn’t shouted I wouldn’t have seen what was going on, since I had my back turned.’

  The stranger bent to pick up her reticule while Joanna watched Leonard go to the baby carriage, right it and bring it back to her, clearly embarrassed.

  Leonard wasn’t used to praise and he shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other. ‘It’s nice to see you again, Joanna. But I’d better get back on board before the boss comes after me. I’m going to visit Tilda on Wednesday, if you’re interested. She’ll be pleased to see you, I know.’

  Unsure, Joanna gazed at him. ‘I’m not sure if I should.’

  ‘You needn’t worry. Except for Tilda, none of the Rushmores live on Portland now. Be here at nine, we’ll surprise her.’

  ‘Len, where the hell are you?’ somebody shouted from the depths of the steamer.

  Joanna smiled and said, ‘It’s nice to see you too, Leonard.’

  He stared at her for a moment, colour mottling his cheeks, then said abruptly, ‘I was sorry to hear about the death of Alex Morcant. He was a good man.’ With that, he strode on to the paddle steamer and, with a wave of his hand, disappeared below deck.

  Seth Adams handed over her reticule and placed his tall and stylish hat back on his head. The man was a bit of a dandy, but there was a shrewd look to him. ‘You’re recently widowed, Mrs Morcant?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’m sorry. You still look pale. I’d feel easier if you’d allow me to escort you and your son home. I imagine you live with the Mrs Scott you mentioned?’

  She inclined her head. ‘That’s kind of you. But first I must find a workshop where Toby’s carriage can be repaired. The wheel has buckled.’

  ‘Allow me to wheel the carriage, then. I’ll try and keep the damaged wheel off the ground. There’s a blacksmith’s shop just around the corner, and a tea room not far away. The carriage can be repaired while we have some refreshment, if you’ll permit it. Take my arm for support in case you feel faint again.’

  ‘Thank you, I do still feel a little shaky.’ They strolled along the quay like a married couple. Toby giggled every time the damaged wheel accidentally touched the ground, and he was jiggled up and down.

  Seth Adams smiled at him. ‘Your son has a happy nature.’

  ‘He has, but he can be demanding when he feels like it.’ Feeling stronger now, Joanna wanted to withdraw her arm but couldn’t quite bring herself to do so, in case she appeared ungrateful. ‘Do you have children, Mr Adams?’

  He gave her a sideways glance, saying briefly, ‘I’m not married.’

  He didn’t look the type to invite further questioning from a stranger, so she accepted his answer without comment.

  Soon they were settled in the tea rooms. It was hard handling the tea things as well as holding a wriggling child, who appeared to have suddenly sprouted as many arms as an octopus.

  ‘Why don’t you hand him to me while you drink your tea?’ Seth said, spreading a napkin on his lap to receive the child when she nodded. ‘Now, young fellow, you behave yourself.’

  Toby gazed up at this person with the authoritative voice for several long assessing seconds, then he smiled and blew a bubble.

  Taking a silver watch from his pocket, Seth hung it from his lapel. Toby’s eyes were drawn immediately to it and he reached out, his hand closing possessively around the shiny object.

  ‘You have a way with children.’

  ‘I have a niece. How long have you been widowed, Mrs Morcant?’

  She hadn’t expected such a question. ‘Just a few weeks.’

  ‘Ah . . . I see, and how long were you married?’

  About to give the same answer, she caught herself just in time. ‘Not long enough.’ She suddenly remembered Alex bringing her to this tea room once, and the small posy of flowers he’d presented her with. Her voice caught in her throat as she added curtly, ‘I’d prefer not talk about it.’

  ‘Perhaps you should have given yourself more time to recover before venturing abroad.’

  She drew in a deep, steadying breath, suspecting that the reason for her sickness might be more than a mere faint. She softened towards her companion. He was being perfectly decent towards her, and it wasn’t his fault she’d become a widow.

  ‘I’m sorry I was so sharp. You weren’t to know. But hiding myself away won’t bring my husband back.’

  ‘No, of course it won’t.’ Toby was becoming restless again. Picking up a teaspoon, Seth smeared the back of the bowl with plum jam and handed it to the boy to suck on. ‘I apologize if my questioning was too direct.’

  ‘There’s no need to apologize. I didn’t mind.’ When the watch casing sprang open Toby gazed at it in astonishment, then screeched in delight and banged the spoon on it. Seth Adams chuckled, even though his lapel was now smeared with jam and dribble.

  Joanna leaned forward and dabbed at the sticky patch with her napkin. The timepiece said it was past Toby’s feed time. She glimpsed a likeness of a young woman inside the lid of the watch before her companion snapped it shut, just as Joanna said, ‘I didn’t intend to stay out this long. My son is getting hungry.’

  Making sure she’d finished her tea, Seth placed the child in her arms, then beckoned to the waitress and paid the bill. ‘Wait here,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and see if the baby carriage is ready.’

  He was back within five minutes. ‘I’ve hired a carriage to take you home. It will be quicker.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Adams.’ She fumbled with the drawstring of her reticule. ‘You’ve been most kind. You must tell me the cost of the repairs, so I can reimburse you.’

  A hand over hers prevented her retrieving her coin purse. ‘I won’t hear of it.’

  When the carriage came he helped her in, lifted Toby’s carriage in after her and slipped some money into the driver’s hand. ‘The lady will tell you her destination. Perhaps we shall meet again sometime, Mrs Morcant.’

  ‘I think that might be nice, Mr Adams.’

  ‘It might, at that.’ His sudden smile took her unawares, and invited one from her as he took a step back and waved the carriage on.

  She saved her own smile until he was out of sight.

  Seth Adams watched the carriage grow smaller, then he smiled and turned, his long legs carrying him rapidly back towards the quay.

  Boarding the paddle steamer, he leaned down the stairway and called out Leonard’s name.

  The man came up on deck, rubbing his oily hands on a piece of grey rag.

  If Seth had thought their recently shared experience was going to make this man his ally, he learned differently.

  ‘You wanted something, mister?’

  ‘Tell me about Joanna Morcant.’

  Leonard shrugged, said flatly, ‘Why?’

  ‘She dropped something. I want to return it.’

  ‘You can give it to me. I’ll return it to her the next time I see her.’

  ‘I’d rather give it to her myself.’

  ‘No doubt you would.’ Hands on hips, Leonard stared at him. ‘Leave Joanna alone, she’s had enough strife in her life of late. She’s just been widowed, and doesn’t need another man chasing her skirts.’

  ‘I rather think that’s up to her.’

  ‘Mebbe it is and mebbe it isn’t, but you’ll not get her address out of me.’

  Seth sighed. ‘I know her address. I just want some information about her.’

  ‘Such as?’

  Their eyes narrowed in on each other, then Seth said, ‘Anything. Where was she born? Who are her parents?’

  Leonard Rushmore scratched his head, then gave a faint shrug. ‘Give me your card. I’ll makes sure she gets it. I daresay my cousin can answer those questions herself if she’s of a mind.’ He held out his hand. ‘Now, if you don’t mind giving me the property you’ve found at the same time, I’ll make sure she gets it.’

  Seth had already inspected the purse he’d
palmed from Joanna Morcant’s bag. It contained almost four shillings, and a ring set with a blue, heart-shaped stone. She would have had difficulty paying for the repairs to the baby carriage so he’d dropped a few extra coins in.

  ‘You’re wasting my time, mister.’

  Frustrated, Seth frowned at the man as he handed the purse over. Leonard Rushmore wasn’t as stupid as he looked.

  A grin slowly tightened the man’s mouth and he jerked his thumb towards the quay. ‘The gangplank’s there, if you’re leaving.’

  The pair exchanged a hard stare. When Seth took his calling card from his waistcoat pocket and handed it over, Leonard grunted, ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Make sure she gets it.’

  Placing it in his pocket, Leonard walked away without another glance, whistling a tune.

  5

  ‘Oh, Tilda, what an awful smell!’ Joanna held a handkerchief to her nose as she glanced around the main room of the comfortable cottage she’d been raised in. ‘I don’t know what my ma would say if she could see the place now.’

  ‘I wish I’d come here earlier.’ Crossing to the mattress on the floor, Tilda picked up the ragged patchwork quilt. ‘Remember all those winter hours we spent stitching this together. I wonder if it can be repaired.’

  ‘I don’t want anything Brian Rushmore touched with his filthy hands,’ Joanna said fiercely, rolling up her sleeves. ‘I’m going to make a bonfire with this rubbish.’

  She began to bustle about, carrying out mouldy food, empty gin bottles, dirty clothes and bedding, anything she could move. Rats and spiders scattered before her onslaught. She heaped the rubbish in the middle of the overgrown garden, then, running out of energy, threw herself on the bottom of the stairs and burst into angry tears. ‘This place doesn’t look as if it’s been cleaned in years,’ she muttered.

  Tilda wrapped her arms around her in a hug. ‘Hush, Joanna. We’ll do it together. Next week you’ll come over again and we’ll clean the place. Bring Mrs Bates with you, she can look after the children. Now, hand over that quilt and the bedding. We spent too many hours making it not to attempt to rescue it. I’ll soak everything, and repair the rips.’