“Here, ma’am,” said Ruby and she handed her a wet towel, which Georgina placed on the back of her mother’s neck. Mrs. Crofton shuddered and tried to shrug it away but her daughter held it on firmly.
“It’ll feel better in a moment, Mama. Ruby, light the candle if you please.”
Slowly, Mrs. Crofton was becoming calmer but her open eyes were wild, the pupils dilated.
“Lie back for a moment, my dear,” said her daughter and she plumped up the cushion for her mother’s head. “There, that’s better. Good pet. See, we’re here. Your own little Ruby and me.”
Unasked, Ruby reached for a glass of water that was on the small table beside the bed and offered it to her mistress, who took a small sip.
Georgina tucked a strand of grey hair under her mother’s night cap. Her touch was tender.
“You were having one of your bad dreams, my pet, but it’s all right now. See, you’re in your own pretty bedroom that you furnished yourself. Look around. There’s your bureau and your little stool that Mrs. Buchanan embroidered, just as they are.”
Mrs. Crofton caught her hand. “Oh Georgina, I had a terrible vision.”
“It was just a dream, Mama…”
“No–not a dream, a vision. I must tell it.”
“Of course, my dear. But first why don’t I send Ruby to make a hot posset. We can all use one, I’m sure.”
“No! It was one of my visions, not like the other dreams. I can tell the difference. I must say it now.”
Georgina stared at her. “Tell it to us then.”
“There was so much suffering and I could do nothing. I knew I would be able to save little Patrick but a man prevented me. Oh such a wicked man.” She sobbed, still in the dreamworld. “I was crying out for help, but no matter how hard I screamed no sound was coming from my throat.” Georgina signalled to Ruby to give her the glass of water and she drank greedily.
“Thank you, dearest girl. Did I call out?”
“Yes, ma’am, you did.”
“It was a vision. You must write it down, Georgina, you must write it down before it leaves me.”
“Very well, Mama. Ruby, will you be so good as to bring me pen and ink and some notebook from the escritoire.”
Ruby hurried to obey and Mrs. Crofton leaned back on her pillow while her daughter took a seat beside the bed, ready to take down what she said. As soon as she began to relate the details of her dream, Mrs. Crofton became distressed again and her Irish lilt was more pronounced.
“The foul water was up my nostrils and in my mouth so I thought I was going to choke on the stench of it.”
“Breathe in for a moment, Mama,” said Georgina soothingly. “See, there is no stench here. There is only the pleasant lavender cologne that Mrs. Buchanan sprinkles on the sheets and perhaps Ruby has the smell of baking bread in her hair.”
Mrs. Crofton was not to be consoled.
“You know whenever little Patrick appears to me in a dream it is a warning that we will hear of a death within the week. Don’t you remember, last summer, he came to me and we heard that your uncle Callum had died? Surely you remember me telling you my dream?”
“Of course I do, my pet, but Uncle Callum was very ill. His death was not unexpected.”
Mrs. Crofton ignored her. “This dream is a warning to us, Georgina.”
“If this is a warning, my pet, what should we take from it?”
“Somebody is in grave danger. Death is approaching. Kiss me, my dear one. And you too, Ruby. Oh kiss me so I know that you are quick and not dead.”
Dutifully, her daughter did so and Ruby managed a timid peck on her mistress’s cold hand.
“Oh it was dreadful. Such fear and sorrow coming from your poor dead brother and I could not help him and I knew that stinking river would take me.”
“The people on shelves sound like the passengers in their bunks,” said Georgina. “And the stinking river running through the room is the bilge of the ship. You are dreaming of the crossing again.”
“Oh Gina, don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not at all, Mama, but we know how terrible the voyage here was. How many times have you dreamed of it? More than we can count.”
Mrs. Crofton was almost weeping. “No matter that it has the look of my memory, this was a premonition. It must be respected. That man in my dream was as wicked as the devil himself. He was evil, I tell you. I could see his delight as he forced me into the river. He was enjoying my suffering and that he had the power to keep me from my poor little boy. He was happy others were in such need and he was not.”
“That sounds very like any one of the English peers who let our people starve,” said Georgina.
Her mother shuddered. “It is true. There was the same cold indifference and I, alas, I was as helpless as I was then.”
Ruby moved closer to Georgina and they were quiet for a moment, watching Mrs. Crofton as she looked into the horror that never left her. She said with great weariness, “This is no mere dream. I have not lost the true gift, the sight. We are being sent a warning of tragedy. There is danger all around us and wickedness. We must beware.”
“And we will be, Mama.”
Georgina looked over at Ruby, who was pale and wide-eyed. “Remember how Mama was telling you last month about the Great Hunger when the potato blight destroyed the harvest?”
Ruby managed to nod.
“Her nightmares still visit her, alas.”
Mrs. Crofton had closed her eyes and already seemed to be drifting off to sleep. Georgina put the ink pot, pen, and paper on the side table. She said softly to Ruby, “The entire village where Mama lived was starving to death. Her own family was decimated. The landlord finally paid their passage to Canada. No, child, this was not an act of kindness. He wanted to get rid of them so he could claim their paltry sliver of land. There were others in the same plight, of course, and the boats were so overcrowded it is a wonder they could sail at all.”
Mrs. Crofton moved her head restlessly and Georgina waited until she settled down. Ruby was hardly breathing and even though her bare feet were icy cold by now, she dared not move. She wanted Miss Georgina to continue with her tale because she loved to be spoken to in that special way, but she could hardly believe that her mistress had suffered from the same poverty that she herself understood all too well.
Georgina sat back in the chair. “Mama was the only remaining child, and her father, my dear grandfather, died before they even got to the port. Her mother had no choice but to continue. The conditions on board the ship were almost too terrible for us to contemplate. The ship owners took on as many passengers as they could for the money…”
Ruby couldn’t bear it and she burst out. “But the captains, ma’am. Didn’t they refuse? Captains are the kings of their ships, you told me so yourself.”
Georgina sighed. “Perhaps one did, perhaps even two, but we have no record of them. All we know is that many, many people died on the journey over. Typhoid fever swept through the hold where the poorest people had been crammed and stuffed like so much baggage. There was no one to take care of the sick and the dying and Mama’s mother, my dear grandmother, died. For two days, Ruby, for two long days, nobody came down to tend to those who were ill. Mama, who was a mere child, much younger than you are now, was forced to lie beside the corpse of her own mother.”
Ruby was trembling, as much with fear and cold as with sorrow, but she whispered, “Oh Miss Georgina, I am dreadful sorry to hear it.”
“Fortunately for her, another family, who had lost their only child, took her in. They prospered when they came to Toronto, which was why Mama was able to make such a good match when she grew up.” She smiled at the girl. “But I am giving you such a long face. That part of the story is a happy one and I shall tell it to you another day. You looked perished, you poor little mite.” She lifted the quilt. “Why don’t you get into Mama’s bed. It will keep you both warm. I’m going to stir up the fire and sit in the armchair for a while. She’s be ri
ght as rain in the morning, you’ll see.”
Ruby did as she was told. Mrs. Crofton’s body was warm under the covers and soft. The older woman stirred for a moment and pulled her close, whispering drowsily, “What would we do without our precious jewel, Georgina? What a comfort she is.”
Georgina blew out the candle and went to the big armchair by the fire. It wasn’t long before Ruby heard her light snore. Mrs. Crofton’s breathing deepened and she knew that they were both sound asleep.
She lay watching the shadows of the flames flicker on the wall until the fire died down. The feather pillow smelled faintly of the lavender water that Mrs. Buchanan sprinkled on the pillowcase when she was doing the ironing. Mrs. Crofton was lying against her and her breath was on her neck. Ruby cautiously touched the silk of her mistress’s nightgown.
She had a good idea why Mrs. Crofton had dreamed what she had. She had met that evil man who took pleasure in others’ suffering. Ruby covered her ears with her hands as if she were blocking out cries. No matter what happened, she would never give up this sanctuary she had found. There was nothing she could do.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Ralph Tibbett stroked his wife’s breast, swollen with milk, the nipple dark. Kate was half asleep but instinctively shifted to make herself more available. As if sensing the movement, the smaller twin woke up, snuffled, then started to wail.
“Leave him,” whispered Ralph into Kate’s neck. But the brother was disturbed and he woke too.
“I’ve got to see to them,” said Kate and she rolled away.
Ralph caught her arm. “Let them cry. They’ll fall asleep in a minute.”
Kate hesitated, reaching down to rock the cradle beside the bed. Her nipples were already oozing milk in response to the infants and both babies smelled it, making jerking movements with their arms as if they would get right out of the cradle and grab hold of her.
“I’ll feed them first.”
She sat up in the bed, pulled the pillow onto her lap, and picked up Jacob, who immediately stopped crying. She laid him on the pillow so he could latch on to her right breast and took the other infant, James, out of the cradle and placed him at the left breast.
Ralph was propped on his elbow, watching. “You spoil them,” he said.
Kate tried to smile at him although she quailed at the disapproval in his voice. “Ma always said there’s no use in letting a babe cry itself into a fit. They’re much happier if they know I’m here.”
“And your husband would be much happier if he had a wife he could count on.”
“I’m sorry, Ralph. I can’t help it.”
“Can’t you? I don’t know about that.”
“It’s true. I was so sore at first and then…I don’t get much sleep.” She glanced over at him with a sudden uncharacteristic resentment. “You aren’t here when it’s the worst.”
“Thank goodness for that.”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I said I’d be in to work early anyway. Did you wash my shirt?”
“Yes, it’s in the wardrobe.”
He got up and padded across the floor. “It’s bloody cold in here.”
“We’re almost out of coal. You said you’d bring a bucketful in last night.”
The twins were slowing down on the suckling, their cheeks flushed with pleasure and exertion. Kate watched her husband as he dressed. He’d got fatter since they’d married. The handsome young lad she had fallen so wildly in love with seemed to be vanishing daily. But she was filled with yearning.
“Ralph, can you stay a bit longer? I get so lonesome when you’re not here.”
“Do you? You have the babies, how can you be lonesome?” His tone was mocking. “Don’t tell me you don’t love those little ones. I thought they were your heart’s delight.”
“They are, of course they are, but sometimes I am so tired and I have just fallen asleep when one or the other wakes up. And then I could scream, Ralph. I feel so bad about that but I can’t help myself. I do love them so much but I think if I could just have a rest, I’d feel better. That’s not wicked, is it? If you could only mind them for me for just a few hours, sometimes. Please, Ralph. They’re your children too.”
“Are they? I hope so.”
He was standing in front of the washstand fastening his silk cravat. He watched her in the mirror. “Oh don’t fret so, Kate. You know I’m just trying to get some extra money for us. That’s why I work so much.”
“That’s a new tie, isn’t it? We could buy two buckets of coal for what you spent on that.”
She’d never challenged him before, and they were both momentarily surprised at her outburst. Ralph picked up a jar of pomade and applied a good helping to his hair. “It is new to me but not new bought. You know how important it is that I look up to scratch. He gave it to me.”
He had no need to say who “he” referred to. His employer was a real go-getter, as Ralph described him. Kate was growing to hate this man she’d never met because of the unpredictable and, to her mind, often unjustified demands he put on Ralph’s time. Ralph was vague about his duties, which he said varied but were generally in the realm of helping customers. He was just as vague about his weekly wage. Unfortunately, his job as night watchman at the Brewery was also unpredictable, sometimes he was called in and sometimes he wasn’t. And he’d made her swear not to reveal to anybody that he was employed there. He was embarrassed at having to do such a menial job, a far cry from the glamour of the office and the swell clients. He only did it so he could provide for his family, he said, but Kate, in her rare honest moments, had to admit she seldom saw the extra money.
Kate placed Jacob back in his cradle. James snuffled but then relapsed into sleep as well and she put him in the other end.
“Can you come back to bed now, Ralph?”
“Don’t be silly, Kate. I’m dressed. It’s too late.” He came over to the bed and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Look, I promise I’ll bring home some coal or at least the money to buy some.”
“When will you be home?”
“Late, I’m afraid. We have an important client coming in from Hamilton and I have to be on my toes. I’ll be needed.” He took a dollar out of his pocket and put it on the dresser. “Here. Get Ben to fetch more coal for you.”
Kate got out of bed. “He’ll be going to school in a minute. You’d better ask him now.”
“All right, I will. Bye, Kate, no need to fret. Things are looking up for us.”
She didn’t trust herself to answer.
Ralph went into the hall just as Ben was coming down the stairs.
“Morning to you, lad. Off to school, are you?”
The boy nodded. He was muffled in a long ratty-looking scarf but he had no gloves or hat and bare leg was visible between the top of his boots and his too-short trousers.
“Tell you what. I’m going in that direction. I’ll walk a ways with you.”
Ralph led the way outside, pulling his soft lamb’s wool muffler around his chin. His gloves were fur-lined pig skin. They walked on for a bit, then Ralph said, “Where’s your sister? I haven’t seen her recently. Not ill, is she?”
“She’s staying with Martha.”
“And where would that be?”
“I don’t know, sir. She’s never told us.”
A gust of cold wind made Ralph jam his astrakhan hat more tightly on his head. Ben tried to wrap the thin muffler around his face. Ralph tapped him on the shoulder.
“If you don’t mind me saying, young fellow, you could do with some warm clothes.”
Ben didn’t answer.
“Tell you what,” continued Ralph. “How would you like a job? No, I’m speaking God’s truth. Why don’t you come along with me? It don’t matter if you’re a bit late for school. We’ll think up a good excuse.”
The boy looked at him doubtfully.
“What sort of job?”
Ralph beamed down at him. “Well, I work for this real toff, you see. It’s very well-paid w
ork.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a sort of jack of all trades. Somebody needs meeting at the train station, I’m there. Need a good-looking sort of fellow, I’m your man. Very varied kind of job. But you know he’s so busy these days that he said to me the other day, he said, ‘Ralph, I could do with a bit of extra help. Do you know of any lad might be willing to run errands a few times a week?’ So I thought to myself, ‘By Jove, I do know a lad who might be willing to make himself a bit of dash.’ And you’re the lad I have in mind, Ben.”
Another pause. They were almost at the corner of Sydenham and Sackville, where the boy had to turn for school.
“Is it against the law what he wants me to do?”
Ralph clapped him on the shoulder and burst out laughing. “What a bright lad you are, Ben, I knew it. No flies on you. But no, of course, it ain’t against the law. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that’d get you into trouble. But I wager this job would bring you enough for a hat and some gloves. And if you do it properly and prove you are a reliable lad, there might be more work and you can get some socks and new boots. Those you’ve got on wouldn’t look good on a stiff.”
At the corner where he would normally turn to go to school, Ben halted.
“All right,” he said.
“That’s my lad,” said Ralph and he rubbed the boy’s shorn head. “It’s a bit of a walk but it’ll do us good. Get some colour into those pale cheeks of yours.” He took Ben’s arm. “Heigh ho, now let’s think of what we will tell your teacher.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Night and morning hadn’t quite changed places, the station lamps were fully lit, and Murdoch experienced his usual tug of pleasure at the sight. From the beginning, when he was merely a constable, he had loved the job despite the dull hours of walking the beat. He liked being in a world that was both outside of society and paradoxically at its very heart. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else. This was why he could understand Seymour’s being so disturbed by the malicious anonymous letters. He and the sergeant shared the same loyalty to their work and colleagues. And he was about to put that loyalty into operation.
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