The Orphan's Dream

by Dilly Court

  Mirabel had a sudden vision of fastidious Adela Hamilton standing in her place, looking round with her nose in the air. ‘No, she didn’t. May I sit down?’

  ‘Tell me what you want. I have a baby to feed and a meal to cook for my boys. They’re down at the water’s edge, scavenging for anything that will fetch a copper or two. Why have you come here?’

  ‘I’m thinking of investing in your husband’s business, but he can’t go on living on board the Beatrice.’

  ‘He named the boat after me, but that was in better times. I don’t want him back, Mrs Kettle. He squanders any money he gets on women and drink.’

  ‘I won’t part with a penny until I’m certain he’ll change his ways. Would you be prepared to give him another chance if he promises to behave?’

  A wry smile lit Beatrice’s eyes for a brief moment. ‘He’s not a schoolboy, Mrs Kettle. I can see that you mean well but you’ve obviously led a sheltered life. You wouldn’t know what women like me have to put up with.’

  ‘Did he beat you?’

  ‘Never!’

  Mirabel glanced at the baby in the crib. ‘But he obviously loves you.’

  ‘Men will have their way and love doesn’t always come into it. You’re a married woman, Mrs Kettle. You know the way it is.’

  Mirabel felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she turned her head away. ‘Of course, but do you love your husband?’

  ‘I did once, but he was different then. We aren’t the same people now.’

  ‘I doubt that, Beatrice.’ Mirabel tried another tack. ‘You weren’t born to this sort of life, I can tell that. You deserve better.’

  ‘You can work miracles, can you, Mrs Kettle?’

  ‘It’s Mirabel, and no, of course I can’t, but I’ve had a long talk with your husband, and I think I can judge character. I believe he is sincere in wanting to mend his ways.’

  ‘He’s made more promises than I care to remember, but they always come to nothing. We’re better off without him.’

  Mirabel looked round the room, suppressing a shudder. ‘Are you sure about that? If your husband’s business improves you could move somewhere more suited to your needs.’

  ‘It wasn’t always like this.’ Beatrice leaned over to pick up the baby. ‘Hush now, Charlotte.’ She cradled the infant in her arms. ‘When Eddie was in business with Jack we had a good living, but they went their separate ways, and now poor Jack is dead.’

  ‘I know Captain Starke and I believe he was a good friend to you and Captain Hamilton. I’m happy to say that he’s alive and well.’

  ‘Jack is alive?’

  ‘He survived the shipwreck, along with most of his crew. I met him by chance a few weeks ago in Florida.’

  Beatrice sank down on the rocking chair. ‘Well I never did!’

  ‘I think Jack would want me to help you out of your present difficulties,’ Mirabel said, pressing home her advantage.

  ‘What is he to you, if you don’t mind me asking?’ Beatrice unbuttoned her bodice and put the baby to her breast.

  ‘It’s a long story.’

  A slow smile lit Beatrice’s eyes. ‘I’m not going anywhere for a while.’ She beckoned to the toddler, who had abandoned her efforts to catch the elusive insect. ‘Come and sit with me, Lily. The lady has a tale to tell.’

  ‘I’d make you a cup of tea, but I’d need to light the fire first,’ Beatrice said when Mirabel came to the end of her narrative. ‘Thank you for being so frank with me. I had you down for one of those rich women like Adela, who patronise the poor because it makes them feel better about themselves, but now I know different.’

  ‘I would like to help you and your husband, but I would be doing it for my benefit as well. I intend to make money, which of course we would share. I can’t spend the rest of my life feeling sorry for myself.’

  ‘What about that nasty man Wiley? My Eddie would sort him out in two seconds flat.’

  ‘I hope it won’t come to that, but I’ll deal with Wiley. His threats don’t bother me, and he can’t hurt poor Hubert now.’ Mirabel rose to her feet. ‘Don’t worry about the tea, Beatrice.’

  ‘Have you decided whether or not to go into business with Eddie?’ Beatrice hitched the baby over her shoulder. ‘He has his weaknesses but he’s an honest man.’

  ‘I’m sure he is, and if the surveyor’s report is favourable, then I just have to find out exactly how much I’m due to collect from the tontine, and I’ll make Edric an offer.’

  ‘Jack was a fool to let you go,’ Beatrice said, holding out her hand. ‘I’ll tell him so in no uncertain terms when I see him again.’

  The surveyor’s report was favourable. The Beatrice was sound, but in need of a considerable amount of hard work to make it an attractive proposition as a passenger craft. The money from the tontine was paid into Mirabel’s bank account, and although it was not enough to keep her in comfort for the rest of her life, there was sufficient to allow her to enter into a business contract with Edric Hamilton. It was an easy decision to make, and although Jack seemed unlikely to return to London, working with his ex-partner made her feel that he was not altogether lost to her. As a married woman she had made the heartbreaking decision to walk away from him in Florida, and there was no going back now. He had probably moved on, or else he was content to live out his life on the beach with rum as his constant companion. She set her sights on building up a business with Edric and taking care of her surrogate family.

  With autumn upon them and winter snapping at its heels, she set up an office in what had been Hubert’s study, and employed Alf to start work on the Beatrice, helping Edric to clean, paint and generally tidy up the vessel, while she put all her efforts into renewing the licence to trade and finding suitable work. It was a chance remark from Alf that led her to visit the Anglers’ Association in Clerkenwell Road, where she was met by the supercilious secretary, who seemed to think that she was trespassing in a purely masculine domain. She had been prepared for this, however, and sat listening patiently while he expounded on the difference between men and women. ‘Wives,’ he concluded pompously, ‘are the angels of the house. They should leave all other matters to their husbands, who are far better suited to deal with the outside world.’

  Seizing on the fact that he had run out of bluster, Mirabel put her proposition to him as simply as she could, allowing for the fact that he was so entrenched in his opinions that it would take a team of navvies to dig him free.

  ‘There it is, sir,’ she said finally. ‘Our company can offer anglers safe and comfortable trips to any part of the river they choose, within the bounds of the law, of course, at a very reasonable price. Parties or single gentlemen are catered for, and refreshments provided.’

  ‘The railway companies offer anglers’ tickets at reasonable rates, ma’am.’

  ‘With which we can compete, and give better value for money. I’ve counted over one hundred and fifty angling clubs in the greater London area. There must be scores of your members who would jump at the chance of a day out on the river, away from the cares of home and hearth.’ She could see by the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes that she had won. She took a bundle of leaflets from the document case that had once belonged to her husband and laid them on the desk. ‘Well, sir? What do you say?’

  Chapter Twenty-three

  TRADE WITH THE anglers was brisk while the weather held, and Mirabel put all her energies into securing small contracts with a range of industries, transporting their goods from factories to ports downriver. She could have done even better had they had a larger vessel with a bigger hold, and she realised that to make money they had to expand the business. Edric was not so sure. ‘We’ll have to employ another master and crew if we’re to do that,’ he said, scratching his head. ‘We’re doing quite well with the anglers, and next spring we’ll have the day trippers back.

  ‘We will, but we can do even better. Will you trust me on this?’

  He grinned. ‘Beatrice would kill me if I didn’t l
isten to you. She thinks you’re the cleverest woman she’s ever met.’

  ‘And she’s happy in your new home?’

  ‘It’s not quite up to my brother’s residence in Spital Square, but we’re on our way up, thanks to you.’ He gave her a searching look. ‘Jack was a fool to let you go. I agree with my wife on that.’

  She turned away, busying herself with the pile of papers on her desk. ‘It wasn’t to be, Eddie.’ Despite her attempt to sound positive she could not prevent a sigh escaping from her lips.

  ‘I still say he was an idiot, and if I ever see him again I’ll tell him so.’ He picked up the manifest for the cargo he was about to take to Deptford. ‘Perhaps you’re right, Mirabel. We could make a bigger profit with another vessel. There’s plenty of work out there for a small company, as you’ve proved without a doubt.’

  Mirabel looked up at the sound of someone knocking on the study door. ‘Come in.’

  Tilda put her head round the door. ‘It’s Danny, missis. A copper’s brought him home, says he’s been brawling and wants to see Pa, but he’s not here.’

  ‘Do you want me to deal with this?’ Edric asked, grinning.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ Mirabel said, trying not to laugh. ‘The boy needs work other than sifting through the Thames mud.’ She met his amused gaze with a speculative look. ‘You could take him on as a deck hand and train him for when we get another boat.’

  ‘Do I have a choice?’

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Far be it from me to tell you how to run your vessel, Captain Hamilton.’

  ‘Really?’ Tilda looked from one to the other. ‘Will you really take him on, mister? He’s a good worker and strong like Pa.’

  Mirabel made for the door. ‘Let me sort out the policeman and then you can discuss it with Danny.’

  To her surprise and annoyance not only were Danny and the constable standing on the doorstep but Wiley was on the pavement, exhorting the policeman to arrest the boy immediately.

  ‘What’s the matter, constable?’ Mirabel asked, ignoring Wiley who was complaining bitterly.

  The constable turned to him. ‘Will you keep your comments to yourself, sir? I can’t hear myself think, let alone speak to the lady without raising my voice.’

  ‘I done nothing wrong,’ Danny protested, wriggling and grimacing as the constable tightened his grip on his ear. ‘Let me go.’

  ‘Not until this matter is cleared up, sonny. Does this boy live here, ma’am?’

  ‘Of course he does,’ Wiley said crossly. ‘This is a den of thieves.’

  ‘I’ll thank you to keep quiet, sir.’ The policeman released Danny. ‘Don’t try to scarper, son. You’ll only make matters worse.’

  Mirabel laid a protective hand on Danny’s shoulder. ‘What has he done?’

  ‘According to this gent, he caught the lad stealing.’

  ‘That’s a lie,’ Danny exclaimed angrily. ‘I’ve been working the river bank all morning.’

  ‘Look in his sack, constable.’ Wiley pushed forward, snatching the canvas bag from the policeman and tipping the contents over the threshold onto the polished floorboards. ‘Look, a silver teaspoon and a lady’s watch.’

  ‘And there’s a shard of pottery, two pennies and a broken chain,’ Mirabel said calmly. ‘Everything is covered in mud.’

  ‘It’s where he hid the things he stole from my house,’ Wiley said, floundering.

  ‘Nonsense.’ Mirabel picked up a rusty horseshoe, covered in mud. ‘Daniel is a mudlark, and I’d be prepared to stand up in court and swear to that, if necessary.’

  ‘Of course she’d say that. She’s the daughter of a murderer and a thief.’ Wiley stood back, folding his arms across his chest. ‘They’re all in it together, if you ask me.’

  ‘This man is a known troublemaker, constable. I’m sure you’ve met many men like him in the course of duty.’ Mirabel met the young policeman’s worried glance with a smile, and his cheeks heightened in colour.

  ‘It looks as though you were mistaken, sir,’ he said, turning to Wiley. ‘There’s no case to answer here.’ He tipped his helmet to Mirabel and descended to the pavement. He ignored Wiley’s protests and walked off with a measured tread.

  ‘What’s the matter with you, Wiley?’ Mirabel demanded. ‘Why are you always trying to make trouble for me?’

  ‘Mary Flitton told me what goes on in your household. She said you was trying to prove I don’t own the house.’

  ‘What I do is no business of yours, Wiley.’

  ‘Hoity-toity, but you’ll change your tune. By the time I’ve finished with you you’ll wish you’d never crossed the path of Septimus Wiley.’

  ‘Why are you doing this? My father treated you well.’

  ‘He treated me like a servant. I was as good as him, or better. I never killed no one so that I could get my hands on their business.’

  ‘Neither did Pa. It’s a wicked lie.’

  Danny had been subdued and silent until that moment, but now he pushed past Mirabel, and squared up to Wiley. ‘Let me bash him, missis. I’ll put his lights out.’

  ‘Don’t make threats you can’t keep, boy,’ Wiley growled. ‘I could beat you with one hand tied behind me back.’

  ‘No one is going to beat anyone,’ Mirabel said hastily. She stepped between them. ‘This has to stop now, Wiley. Go back to Mrs Flitton and tell her from me that I thought she was a better person, but it appears that I was mistaken.’

  ‘You can tell her yourself if you can find the old baggage. I sent her packing as soon as I’d got what I wanted from her, just as I did with your pa’s widow. D’you really think that Septimus Wiley would burden hisself with old women like those two when he can get any amount of totty free for the asking?’

  ‘You are a disgusting man.’ Mirabel went inside and slammed the door in his face.

  Edric emerged from the study. ‘I heard all that. Say the word and I’ll sort him out, Mirabel. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.’

  She shook her head. ‘Thank you, but I’ll do this my way. I’ve been concentrating too much on the business, and to be honest I thought Wiley had moved on, but now I know to the contrary. Tomorrow morning, first thing, I’ll go and see my solicitor. I’ll put a stop to Wiley’s bullying once and for all.’

  Mr Yardley was in the process of hanging his overcoat on a stand in the corner of his office when Mirabel burst into the room. His startled expression brought her to a sudden halt. ‘I’m sorry to arrive so early and without an appointment,’ she said breathlessly. ‘But I’m desperate to know the contents of my late father’s will. Have you managed to get a copy?’

  ‘This is rather irregular, Mrs Kettle.’ Taking off his scarf, Yardley draped it carefully over the arm of the coat stand before taking his place behind his desk. ‘May I ask why the sudden urgency?’

  ‘Septimus Wiley destroyed Hubert’s orchid collection and now he’s doing his best to make my life as difficult as he can. He won’t be happy until he’s ruined me.’

  ‘Can you prove that he was the perpetrator of the criminal act?’

  ‘No. That’s just the trouble. He wheedled his way into the house in my absence by paying court to our housekeeper, a middle-aged widow who believed that he intended marriage.’

  ‘I see.’ Mr Yardley opened a drawer in his desk and took out a bundle of documents bound with red tape. ‘These came yesterday and I haven’t had time to sort through them.’ After a brief scrutiny he selected one, and handed it to Mirabel. ‘This is the last will and testament of Jacob Cutler.’

  Mirabel’s hands shook as she opened the document. The copperplate handwriting danced before her eyes but the intent was clear. ‘Pa left everything to me.’ Her voice broke on a sob of relief. ‘There’s no mention of Ernestine, Wiley or anyone else.’

  ‘So this man Wiley has taken your inheritance under false pretences. That’s a serious offence. Do you wish to pursue this matter through the courts?’

  ‘Most definitely. Do what you mus
t, Mr Yardley.’

  Having left matters in the hands of her lawyer, and secure in the knowledge that Cutler’s Castle belonged to her and might be used as collateral, Mirabel decided to risk investing in another, larger vessel. Alf was learning fast and Edric reckoned that he would soon be able to handle the Beatrice and take the anglers to fish for perch, which was in season from May until March, and much prized as a breakfast fish by those in the know. Mirabelle herself preferred a boiled egg or toast and marmalade, but there was no accounting for taste. Danny and Pip, Alf’s two eldest sons, were keen to work the river and Mirabel had given them every encouragement. It would be good to keep it within the family, for that was exactly what they were now. The children, from little Kitty upwards, accepted her as a much-loved aunt, and she returned their affection unreservedly. Gertie had taken on the role of elder sister as well as a friend to Tilda and the younger children. Between them, the two girls ran the household leaving Mirabel free to concentrate on the business. She devoted all her time and effort into creating something that was both lucrative and lasting.

  Christmas was a rowdy, joyful affair in a house filled with young people, and Mirabel invited Edric and Beatrice together with their brood of children to join them on Christmas Day. There were presents under the tree for everyone and Beatrice went downstairs to help Mirabel and Gertie in the final stage of preparing the turkey with all the trimmings. A near fiasco had been averted when, several weeks before Christmas Gertie had attempted to make the puddings. Everyone had had a stir of the mixture and a wish, and all had been going well until the cloth binding the mixture had split in the copper resulting in a sloppy mess of ruined ingredients. Gertie had broken down in tears, refusing to be comforted until Mirabel promised to take a cab to Piccadilly and purchase a fresh supply from Fortnum’s.