by Rebecca Tope
Belatedly, Fanny became aware of the singular pronoun. Until that moment she had heard the legacy as coming to them both equally. Marybelle must have selected one name for convenience and nothing more. What was Carola’s was surely also hers. Suddenly, this felt less evident, but she could hardly voice a doubt. She would trust her friend to do as she would most certainly have done herself if the roles had been reversed.
Miriam Myers was watching her. ‘You never visited,’ she said, with no trace of judgement in her voice. ‘She would have been pleased to see you.’
‘Fanny has been obliged to take on the great bulk of the work here,’ said Carola, bringing a surge of gladness to Fanny’s breast. ‘For obvious reasons,’ Carola added.
‘We never accept a man we know to be married,’ said Fanny, suddenly feeling a need to defend their work. ‘We value the goodwill of the townsfolk, including all the wives. Whilst I cannot claim any real friendships from amongst them, it is plain that they tolerate us without difficulty.’
‘I have never been fortunate enough to be a wife myself,’ said the visitor, having mastered an obvious surprise. ‘And I am in no way an expert on the mysteries of married life. The Bible clearly forbids adultery, but for a single man, I dare say there is more leeway.’
Fanny felt foolish. Her outburst had come from somewhere she did not entirely understand. She needed to earn this woman’s respect, it seemed: a faded virgin who spent her time offering shelter to women who had been abandoned or had failed in some other way. Fanny remembered the first Mrs Fields, and how she had complained and whined throughout the long months of the migration, before dying just a few miles short of their destination. A miserable self-pitying woman who nobody could like, Fanny had unconsciously adopted her as the epitome of what she did not wish to become. She would seize control of her own life, make her own choices and follow her own rules. At least, she thought now, she almost never complained.
And now, from a clear blue sky – despite the rain sheeting down outside – came riches beyond any dream. It was too much to absorb all at once. Carola showed every sign of a similar bemusement. Again, as when the news about Reuben had come, the girl was finding it difficult to speak. The world was changing too rapidly for her to keep pace. It is the same for us both, Fanny thought, hoping to convince herself that it was true. But she knew, deep down that it was not. Carola had lost a father for her child, but he was never intended to be present, or even aware of his role. Fanny had lost an older brother, little more than a year her senior, who had always been a central pillar of her family. Now Carola had inherited a huge fortune, and Fanny could not be entirely certain that she would be able to lay claim to a half share of it. The balance sheets for the two of them were in reality uncomfortably distinct. They were friends, partners, fond of each other certainly; but there were no ties of blood between them, and no legal contract to bind them.
All this rumbled through her mind in a short minute or two, along with the knowledge that she could have earned herself an equal share if only she had visited the sick woman along with Carola. She deserved to be excluded for that cowardly behaviour.
Miriam Myers was intently examining her wet bonnet, and fingering damp tendrils of hair, now revealed to be a colourless business, more grey than brown. She addressed Carola, after some thought. ‘I fancy the bank will suggest suitable investments or savings for you. They will be extremely loath to hand the money over as banknotes, or even gold coin. They will fear for your safety. Do you have an account?’
‘We do,’ nodded Carola. ‘Until now, we considered it to be quite substantial.’ She smiled. ‘Now it seems paltry in the extreme.’
Something in the woman’s face prompted a question from Fanny. ‘Did Marybelle leave something for you, too?’ She remembered something the sick woman had said. ‘You have a little school for Indian children, too. Is that correct?’
Miriam smiled, as if she had been waiting for these very words. ‘She did,’ she said. ‘In fact a similar sum to that bequeathed to you. I am equally at a loss as to how best to spend it. I fear my school is failing to serve its original purpose. To spend money on it would be of little advantage to anyone.’
‘I am glad,’ said Carola. ‘It would have been unjust, else.’
‘I am not persuaded that justice has much of a part here. Our friend was fortunate to be where she was at the right moment to capitalise on sudden riches in the hands of men who knew even less than we do how to dispose of it. She kept her wits and used her assets to full advantage. One can only admire her, in spite of everything. I believe there are further legacies. I was adjured to send communications to an establishment similar to my own, set up in The Dalles on the Columbia River. It would seem that she came across it during her weeks of travelling, some months back.’
‘She had no family?’ Fanny asked.
‘None that she wished to favour in any way. I believe they treated her harshly as a girl.’
‘She loved her father and married a wastrel,’ said Carola briefly. ‘She told us on her last visit here.’
‘She was a wise creature,’ said Miss Myers softly. ‘Wiser than almost anyone I have met in my life. If she gave you ladies any advice, then I suggest you follow it.’
‘Thank you,’ said Carola, with an emphasis that told the woman that her visit was concluded.
‘You are quite welcome,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘I wish you both well.’ She paused, as if hearing her own words. ‘I really do. I can see that you are well-born young ladies, despite the work you have chosen. A year ago, I fear I would have condemned you without a thought. But now – well, now the world is different in a great many ways.’
‘Marybelle has had a softening influence on you,’ Carola observed.
‘She has. Our paths will cross again, most like.’
‘We might see you in the bank,’ laughed Fanny.
‘Indeed.’ There was no answering smile at the pleasantry and Fanny felt reproved, not only by Miriam Myers, but Carola too. Two people had died, and here she was laughing. She turned away towards the scullery, leaving her friend to bid a final farewell.
Chapter Twenty
There was never a precise moment when Marybelle’s legacy felt real. The next day was a Sunday. Carola hurried to the bank first thing on Monday, only to be informed that the manager would not be able to interview her until the following morning.
As predicted, once sitting face-to-face with him, the manager of the newly established bank cautioned emphatically against any rash expenditure or flamboyant displays of wealth. Well aware of their business, he managed to refer to it so obliquely that it could indeed have been the fashion salon that Fanny had mendaciously described to her parents and young sisters. He spoke as if the abandonment of their work was a foregone conclusion. Fanny, sitting alongside Carola as if the inheritance was a joint one, wanted to protest at this assumption. But Carola simply nodded and requested his advice on how best to invest the money. She showed a rudimentary grasp of the details of capital, interest, risk and shareholding. The manager mentioned railway stock as a certainty, yielding handsome returns. ‘There will be steam-driven locomotives running clear across the States, coast to coast, before another decade is out,’ he assured them. ‘They are planning a railway into St Louis from Chicago. From there they will proceed westwards. The migrations we have seen thus far will increase a thousandfold. There will be a great need for livestock, agriculture, mills and every sort of industry. It is a time of such expansion as we can barely imagine. In Europe, and of course on our own eastern coast, the industrial revolution is well established, the knowledge and application required for the highest kind of civilised living already exists.’ He sighed with a happiness close to ecstasy. ‘And now we have the unimagined wealth flowing from the goldfields. This is a monumental moment in history, my dear young ladies, and you have it at your command.’
Carola politely agreed, with one hand on her belly, as if grounding herself in something concrete. The
manager went on to suggest a monthly payment from the interest that would accrue from the investments that he offered to quickly put in hand.
‘How soon can it be done?’ she asked him.
He pushed out his lips. ‘There are various procedures to be undertaken, to ensure your rightful possession of the inheritance. They appear simple enough. And then we must give proper consideration as to exactly which companies to invest in. I propose a mixture of medium and high risk ventures. Will you trust my judgement on that?’
‘I would wish to be kept closely informed,’ said Carola.
Fanny, made nervous once more by the use of I instead of we, nodded a vigorous agreement.
‘It will be a few months before a regular income comes your way.’
‘Until then, the bank will pay interest on the capital, of course,’ said Carola. ‘And I would wish to retain a portion as plain savings, which I can withdraw at any time.’
‘What sum did you have in mind?’
‘Two hundred dollars,’ she answered promptly. ‘I must purchase items for my child.’
‘Two hundred dollars would provide a handsome layette indeed,’ said the manager, with a patronising smile.
Fanny could grasp no definite meaning in anything that passed during the interview. Carola did not once consult her, or appear to include her in any of the financial decisions. Her head was buzzing with questions, as they walked back to their boudoir, where Hugo was lying on the front porch, patiently awaiting them.
‘What shall we do?’ she asked, as she had done several times in the past two days since Miss Myers’ visit. ‘Now we have confirmed that the money is really ours, we must make a whole mountain of decisions.’
‘We close up,’ said Carola. ‘No more men. No more work of that nature. There are now perhaps two months until my confinement. I wish to acquire soft bedding, a copper for the washing, clothes for the child. And the dog must go,’ she finished as if this were the most minor item on her list.
‘What?’
‘We have no further need of him. The babe will not be safe from him, and he causes dirt and disarray in the house.’
‘The dog stays,’ said Fanny, her voice strangled by outrage. Outrage, she quickly discovered, that had been building up all day. ‘How is it that you think you can made such ordinances without any discussion?’
‘I am senior,’ said Carola calmly.
Protests and threats flew to Fanny’s lips, but remained unspoken. Then I shall take Hugo and leave was the first and strongest. Give me my share of the money and let me decide for myself what to do was another. But what would happen if Carola withheld the money, keeping it all for herself? Where could Fanny go, but back to her family? She was barely twenty years old, and her life was seemingly over. No man would marry her, unless she could move far away and create a new history for herself. She would most likely drift down to California and become a raddled hard-drinking whore, doomed to become diseased and then dead, like Marybelle. It would be as if she were a twig caught in the current of a great river, flowing southwards with the mass of humanity to the place that was attracting them all.
She cursed the gold that had changed everything. It had brought greed and self-interest where before there had been co-operation and contentment. It had transformed Carola into a young woman too grand to continue offering relief to lonely men. It was causing discord and competition amongst different groups, all of them believing they had the greater right to it.
She swallowed hard, and softened her tone. ‘Carrie, I have no wish to fight with you. Marybelle’s gold is a miracle, and will allow great changes to our lives. But why banish poor Hugo? Remember how he found us, and how loyal and loving he has been. He would never harm your child. He will be its devoted protector. Without the men coming in constantly, we can arrange things differently. We must call in workers to build an additional structure at the back, as we had planned. We will have an area where the dog is never permitted. He need never go upstairs, now.’
‘The dog is immaterial. This house will be sold and a far better one constructed in another place. A place far from Chemeketa, where no-one is aware of our … of what we have been. I am thinking perhaps The Dalles, which sounds to be a place with a promising future. Or possibly Astoria would be preferable as a place to raise a child. I must take steps to purchase a good horse and buggy, so I might travel around in safety and comfort.’
Fanny’s outrage surged up again. ‘The Dalles?’ she shouted. ‘The Dalles is nothing but Indians and a mission. The river there is wild and dangerous. I have seen the Dalles myself, and I promise you, it is a thousand times less agreeable than Chemeketa.’ She remembered the point in the migration where the Trail encountered the great Columbia, and travellers were forced to take to rafts, losing their possessions, animals and lives, very often, in the process. Their own wagon trail had been extremely fortunate to find a new road just constructed, which saved them the horrors of rafting. But the Fort and the mission had been benighted, turbulent places where no rational family would ever choose to settle.
‘Astoria, then,’ shrugged Carola.
Fanny had no experience of Astoria, knowing it by reputation as a place of considerable trade and traffic, being on the coast where the Columbia disgorged into the ocean. Travellers thronged its streets, from strange and distant lands such as China. Astoria undeniably had a romance associated with it, from its long history. Fur trappers traded there; ships delivered every sort of goods; and the scenery was said to be quite fabulous.
‘You are not thinking clearly,’ Fanny accused. ‘The money has addled your wits. Take a few days to accommodate yourself to the changed circumstances. Even closing our doors to the men will feel strange for a while.’
‘I wish to have everything settled before my confinement,’ said Carola, still disturbingly cool. ‘That leaves me little time for reflection.’
Fanny suddenly saw the advantageous aspect of the coming birth. If she could slow the pace of her friend’s plans, a few days here and there, she might buy time for herself. Carola would be weary and ungainly. She would be unable to travel. How, then, could she hope to transport herself to a new township, so far away? All Fanny had to do was obstruct, in a variety of subtle ways, and wait for enlightenment.
But she had reckoned without the new status conferred by wealth. ‘I shall send a reliable scout to find out what I need to know, and to purchase a plot of land. That might take a week at most. During that time, I shall assemble my chattels and prepare to travel in a comfortable coach that I shall hire. Then I shall find myself a good quality hotel, where I can stay until after the child is born and the new house is finished.’
I,I,I echoed in Fanny’s head. ‘Am I not to accompany you?’ she asked, struggling to sound as if it hardly mattered.
Carola blinked. ‘You have just expressed an intention to enlarge this property and live here with your dog.’
‘And you replied that this house is to be sold.’
‘It is not an absolute necessity to sell it, if you prefer to remain here. I might even freely consign my share of it to you, in friendship.’
The moment had come. ‘Carrie – we have not properly discussed the apportioning of Marybelle’s money. It has been my assumption that she intended it for us both, and we therefore each take a half.’
‘She left it all to me,’ said Carola, looking away.
Fanny remembered once more the bump of acquisitiveness that the Hastings man had found on Carola’s head. Was that another term for greed? Selfishness? ‘And you think she meant that I should be excluded completely? Why so? I never gave her any cause.’ Even as she spoke, she knew the truth was rather different.
Carola had no hesitation in voicing it. ‘I was kind enough to visit her, when you were not. And I am carrying a child. She saw me as both deserving and needy. You, she believes to be capable of making your own way in life.’
There was a terrible logic to it that left Fanny speechless. But already, her positio
n was becoming clear to her, with a few faint threads of promise. If Carola left her the house, and her dog, she would not starve. She had savings. She was not shunned by the townsfolk. She might even – and the thought brought nothing by way of dread or resistance – find another girl to join her in the same life as before. The prospect of continuing in a similar fashion was almost appealing. The vast changes proposed by Carola had alarmed her greatly. Now she glimpsed a chance that she might not have to make them after all.
‘I am capable of making my own way,’ she asserted, with a firm nod. ‘If that is what it comes to.’
It was the exact right thing to say. Carola turned pale, then forced a laugh. ‘I did not say that was my opinion,’ she said. ‘The situation is not of my making. Marybelle was perhaps not fully in her right mind. She made some remark about your hair and how it was similar to that of her father’s second wife, who she never liked. Or it could be that her lawyer persuaded her that a single name was of greater clarity in her will. Besides, you are not yet twenty-one. That alone might render you ineligible to receive such a legacy.’ She frowned. ‘I have no knowledge of the way the law operates in such matters.’
‘I am at your mercy,’ said Fanny, pressing what felt like an advantage. ‘And that being so, I wish you to understand that I see no need to plead for a share. I can manage as things are. All the decisions are yours. You are senior. You are the person named in the bequest.’
‘I love you, Fanny. Do you doubt it?’
Fanny hesitated. She had detected precious little affection coming her way in the past few days. ‘What, then?’ she demanded.
‘I do not wish the money to separate us. And yet – five hundred dollars seems so much less than a thousand.’ She laughed again, a sound of self-reproach. ‘It would not ensure either of us a life of idle luxury.’
