The Middle Passage (Cat Royal)

by Golding, Julia

  ‘Wouldn’t exactly call him a friend,’ I grumbled, trying to sit up.

  Mabel blushed. ‘Oh. I assumed you must have an understanding as you are travelling together.’

  ‘We do–but not the sort you mean. I understand he’s a low-down scoundrel and he understands I’m a plague on his peace of mind. Believe me, if I had a choice, he would not be my travelling companion but somewhere along the way the chance to voyage with a chaperone disappeared.’ I frowned, remembering just how I had ended up on board this particular ship with this old enemy. ‘Probably when I got caught in the slave rebellion and had to take ship from Tortuga. Not many decent ladies waiting to escort girls home to England from there.’

  ‘I imagine not.’ Mabel helped me stand and shake my skirts out. I suddenly remembered just how grubby I was compared to this beautiful house and spotless inhabitants. Not to mention how unsavoury I must smell.

  I gestured to myself. ‘I’m not usually like this. I feel terrible landing on you in such a condition.’

  She shrugged. ‘Strangely, we are used to it. Father runs the Azores office of the Starline shipping company–we often get unexpected guests in a worse state than you. Mr Shepherd says you are looking for a place to stay for a few days while your ship undergoes repairs. You’re welcome to remain here if it would suit?’

  I was astounded that she would accept a stranger into her house without further references. ‘Are you sure?’

  Mabel smiled. ‘Well, you don’t look dangerous and Mr Shepherd seems to know the Starline shipping company well–went out to Jamaica on one of our vessels, he says.’

  ‘If you are certain, I’d love to stay here.’

  Mabel waved any objections away. ‘Good, that’s settled then. To be honest, we are dying of the tedium of island living and welcome any English guests to break the monotony. I imagine you would welcome a chance to bathe and change your clothes?’

  ‘I would name my first born after someone who gave me that,’ I replied fervently.

  She laughed. ‘Not necessary–and imagine how a boy would do at school names Mabel.’

  Yes, I was right: she was splendid.

  Half an hour later, bathed and decked out in borrowed finery, I emerged from the bedroom. Mabel led me to the terrace that shared the wonderful sweeping views down to the harbour. I could clearly make out the Dolphin riding peacefully at anchor, men busy with the much needed repairs to the rigging. Soon our vessel would be as fit as I now was to face her public.

  We turned a corner and I saw the comfortable sight of three people sat round a table, sipping cool drinks under a shady vine. The two men stood as Mabel and I approached.

  ‘Feeling better, Miss Royal?’ Billy asked, assuming the formal ‘gentleman’ manner he had perfected for such company. No dropped aitches or swallowing of his words.

  ‘Yes, thanks to my kind hostess.’

  Mabel touched my arm. ‘May I introduce my brother and sister? Peter and Rachel.’

  Peter, a scholarly-looking young man with an earnest expression, gave me a clumsy bow. Rachel dipped an elegant curtsy. Billy was grinning at her in appreciation which made me suspect that she had been practicing her skills at flirtation on him. I would have to take her aside and whisper a warning–he was definitely not worth the effort. I took a seat between Rachel and Peter, accepting the offer of a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Heaven–as long as there were no wasps.

  Mabel saw me scanning the nearby flowers suspiciously. ‘We have a trap for them.’ She nodded to a honey-lure set on a side table.

  I relaxed and took a mouthful of juice.

  Billy smirked. I kicked him under the table–hard.

  ‘Whom do you live with? Are your parents here?’ I asked, seeing no adult in attendance. A female servant in black hovered inside the doors to the house waiting to see if anything else was required, but otherwise the house was very quiet.

  Mabel shook her head. ‘Our mother died many years ago.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Trust me to put my foot in it.

  ‘Our father is at his office. He won’t be back till late–if he comes back at all. He often sleeps down there if he is waiting for a ship to come in.’

  So the three of them were left to their own devices in this splendid house–not a bad fate. ‘So who is in charge?’ I teased. ‘Mr Flanders, as the oldest, is it you who has the impossible task of managing your sisters?’

  He didn’t hear that I was only joking and took my question seriously. ‘Indeed, I suppose I am in command of the house in our father’s absence. The girls’ new governess is not expected for a month or so. And my tutor has just left as I am to start work with Father very soon.’

  ‘Oh, that sounds very..um…exciting,’ I said politely, not at all sure that I would fancy a lifetime in shipping, calculating cargoes and export duties.

  Peter frowned, his pale scholar’s face wrinkling to make him look prematurely old. ‘Not really, but that is what Father expects. I’d prefer to go to university. Mr Shepherd, which of the colleges did you attend–or perhaps you are about to go up?’

  I snorted into my orange juice. The only college Billy attended was the university of life.

  ‘I went straight into business like yourself,’ Billy said, giving me a repressive glare. ‘I have a talent for making money and none at all for Latin.’

  Peter leaned eagerly towards him. ‘But it is not the languages I would like to study, but mathematics. I’ve always dreamed of going to Cambridge.’

  ‘As have I,’ lied Billy, ‘but needs must.’

  If Billy had ever dreamed of Cambridge, it was a fantasy where he robbed the dons blind, got drunk with the rich students and never put a foot inside a lecture hall, but I would put good money on the thought never crossing his mind before.

  ‘I have a good friend going up to Trinity this autumn,’ I said, letting Billy off this uncomfortable hook. ‘The Earl of Arden.’

  Mabel’s brows winged up as she showed sensible scepticism that I would know such an exalted personage. Rachel, however, was impressed.

  ‘You know an earl, Miss Royal? What is he like? Is he handsome?’ she asked.

  I shrugged. ‘He does well enough, I suppose.’ Hard to think of Frank like that–we’d spent too long together on board the Courageous for me to think of him in his polished noble grandeur, but I suppose he was fine looking to an impartial observer.

  Rachel clasped her hands to her breast. ‘Oh, I would die to meet a real earl!’

  ‘Good job he’s not with us then,’ quipped Billy, amused by the girl’s enthusiasm.

  ‘Forgive my sister.’ Mabel handed me a plate of tiny sweet biscuits that melted on the tongue in a fizz of almond and sugar. ‘She is set on her debut–even though it is some years away.’

  Rachel frowned at her sister. ‘Only three. Aunt Helga has promised to get me an introduction to all the best families in London. I have to be ready.’

  ‘And how does one get ready for a first season?’ Billy asked, humouring the chit.

  Rachel rose and drifted across the veranda as if it were a ballroom. ‘You learn to dance, polish your accomplishments and hold polite conversation.’

  ‘That’d count you out then, Cat,’ Billy said to me in an undertone, ‘the polite conversation, I mean.’

  His shins received a second kick.

  ‘Rachel!’ called Mabel, embarrassed by her sister showing off before strangers.

  The girl came to rest by the wall at the edge of the veranda. ‘Better to prepare to be a lady than to go squint-eyed staring at the stars all night.’

  ‘Oh?’ Now my interest was pricked. Astronomy had become all the rage since William Herschel discovered a new planet, dubbed Georgium Sidium after the king, in our solar system ten years ago[1]. His marvellous telescopes had become the expensive centre piece of the collection of any gentleman of a scientific bent. Us ladies had not been far behind as Herschel’s sister, Caroline, had made the wonderful discovery of a comet some seven
years ago–becoming the first lady astronomer of note in modern times. She was one of my heroines, along with Mrs Siddons and Miss Burney–all masters of their respective fields of science, stage and story. ‘And who likes to stargaze?’

  Mabel raised a hand. ‘I confess to this weakness. Peter is another enthusiast, though his interest is in the equipment and the calculations required to plot our sightings.’

  Rachel waved a hand in front of her mouth, indicating her boredom in a theatrical yawn.

  ‘Do you have your own telescope then?’

  Peter’s face lit up with enthusiasm. ‘Oh yes, I have a really first rate one–a Herschel seven-inch reflector.’

  ‘Sound the alarm–telescope bore alert!’ muttered Rachel.

  ‘Father ordered it from the Herschels for me–the waiting list was huge but he pulled a few strings thanks to his friendship with Astronomer Royal.’

  Mabel lent a little closer to me. ‘An exchange of favours. We hosted a party of astronomers for a recent eclipse.’

  ‘And this telescope–how much is it worth?’ asked Billy shrewdly.

  Peter tugged at his cravat. ‘At least a hundred guineas.’

  Good gracious! That was equivalent to an annual income for many a respectable shopkeeper. The Starline had to be a profitable enterprise for a father to afford such a gift for his son. I hoped Billy was planning to relieve our kind hosts of this valuable piece of kit as our parting shot.

  ‘I look after it very carefully,’ Peter added. ‘Not just anyone is allowed to use it, are they, Rachel?’

  His youngest sister stuck out her tongue at him. ‘I only used it once to spy on the ships.’

  ‘I suspect you were more interested in ogling the officers.’ Mabel smiled at her.

  ‘Might we see this marvel this evening?’ Billy asked.

  Peter checked the skies. ‘Yes, indeed. It appears to be a capital night for stargazing. What say you, Mabel? Are we ready to travel the galaxies?’

  ‘Of course, I’d be delighted to take our guests on a little spin around the heavens. Did you know, Miss Royal, that Herschel thinks you can see life on the moon–canals and forests?’

  ‘Truly?’ I wasn’t sure if I believed in this–the moon was just a flat white disk, wasn’t it?

  ‘See for yourself–in about four hours.’ Mabel rang a little bell on the table, summoning a servant to clear the table. ‘Until then, I would advise you to take a siesta as we do. The afternoons are unbearably hot. We dine late–at about seven–as a result. Does that suit?’

  Feet up for the afternoon, a good meal in prospect and an evening of entertainment ahead: this was turning out to be quite a splendid holiday.

  ‘That suits admirably well.’ I grinned at Billy who looked remarkably pleased with himself for finding us so comfortable a berth. I would have to keep my eye on him but I guessed that even he would not get up to anything nefarious while our means of escape was still riding at anchor. When we received news that we were to set sail, I’d have to check his pockets very carefully.

  Scene 2: Laboratories of the Universe

  After a delicious dinner of pork cutlets cooked with figs (naturally), lemon mousse and other island delicacies, we convened on the terrace for our evening of star-watching. Rachel excused herself, preferring to employ her time practicing on the harp in the music room. Her accomplished performance drifted out the open windows, adding a lovely musical accompaniment to the scene before us. Below shone the dim lights of the port, glittering like fireflies on the slopes down to the water’s edge; above blazed the bright stars, a net scattered across the heavenly seas waiting to catch our attention.

  Peter had excused himself early from the table to set up his pride-and-joy. An octagonal wooden tube set within a frame, about five feet in length, it stood like some strange wading bird on a dark corner of the terrace, neck stretched to the skies.

  ‘Come closer!’ he called enthusiastically as he heard us approach. He must have run his hands through his hair many times during the tricky procedure of lining his beauty up with the stars as his bristly locks were sticking out from his head like spines on a hedgehog.

  ‘Excuse my brother,’ whispered Mabel, ‘he gets a little mad when he’s at work. As do I,’ she added, gripping her notebook with a not entirely reassuring fervour.

  ‘What do you have in there?’ I asked.

  ‘My plan of the heavens. I’m sweeping the skies looking for new nebulae and, um, other things.’

  ‘What are nebulae?’

  She repressed a roll of the eyes at my ignorance. ‘Star clusters. I can’t hope to keep up with the Herschels or the Astronomer Royal, of course, but we are on such a different latitude here, Peter and I have hopes of being the first to sight something new one day.’ She smiled like one guarding a secret. ‘Perhaps very soon.’

  ‘But it takes dedication,’ Peter chipped in, twisting the little brass scope on top of the barrel of the telescope. ‘Not for the faint-hearted.’

  ‘We do this every night when there are no clouds.’ Mabel set her notebook down on a table ready for the purpose near the telescope.

  No wonder Rachel was tired of the whole business–she was abandoned every night for the superior attractions of the heavens. I could understand how she might resent her siblings’ hobby. I vowed I would make sure I spent some time with her during my stay–after I had satisfied my curiosity about stargazing.

  Impatient by nature, Billy cracked his knuckles. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, Mr Flanders, I’d like a look at this here telescope of yours.’

  Much to my delight, Peter beckoned me forward. ‘Ladies first. Miss Royal, do step a little closer. Now, I have used this scope,’ he tapped the brass instrument on the top of the barrel, ‘to line the telescope up with Mars. Look through this aperture on the side here and tell me what you see.’

  It took a while for my eyes to adjust, and then I could see a reddish blob, circular in shape. ‘It’s red!’

  Mabel touched my shoulder. ‘That’s why astronomers often call it the red planet. They speculate that ours would be blue if seen from space, thanks to the light reflecting from our oceans. Wouldn’t that be something–to look back on our own home?’

  I squinted but it was hard to make out any detail on the blob in the aperture. ‘What about the moon–does that planet look the same colour as with the naked eye?’

  ‘The moon is not classed as a planet as it revolves around the Earth, not the sun–but seen through the telescope it is silvery grey and very pitted and pocked somewhat like a sufferer from small pox.’

  Pop went many of my romantic notions of the moon. ‘What about this new planet of Mr Herschel?’

  ‘Georgium Sidium? Oh, that’s so far away and so hard to see none of us know very much about it. It could be huge though–much bigger than little old Earth. Calculations suggest it is far beyond Saturn so even to be seen by us with our powers of magnification, it has to be a substantial size.’

  ‘I’m amazed.’ And I was. I felt like the top of my head was lifting off as my ideas of space trebled and quadrupled.

  Billy edged me away from the instrument, his gentlemanly manners only stretching so far. ‘My turn.’ He bent over the aperture. ‘My Aunt Fanny, that’s an eye-opener! All that up there and I never knew.’ He stood up and scratched his chin. ‘People would pay good money to get a goggle at that.’

  Mabel didn’t understand his lapse in to London slang. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘To goggle–to look or stare,’ I whispered. ‘Mr Shepherd is a man from an unusual background.’

  ‘I rather like it–take a goggle. Hmm, Peter take a goggle at the new nebulae mentioned in the Royal Society papers. Down by Andromeda’s belt.’ Billy and I exchanged smiles: the street cant sounded hilarious in her ultra-refined accent.

  Peter bent to the telescope. ‘Yes, I see it. Magnificent.’

  ‘Did you know, Miss Royal, that Mr Herschel thinks these nebulae might be where new stars are made–laboratories of
the universe he has called them.’

  ‘So who is the mad alchemist brewing them up?’ I asked. ‘Can you see God stirring the mix?’ I wanted another peek but Peter was hogging the aperture.

  Mabel laughed and shook her head. ‘Doubtless He is behind it somewhere, but it is enough for me to see the process of creation underway. Makes you think when you realize creation didn’t all stop with the Garden of Eden but is going on even as we speak.’

  ‘Not exactly,’ piped up Peter. ‘If you think how long it must take for the light to travel to us here, it means that what you are seeing all happened aeons back.’

  ‘So it could all be over?’ I smiled at the thought of God packing up after millions of years of work and no one noticing. That would make us like an audience sitting in a theatre long after the star of the show had made his exit, all watching the candles burn down to their sockets.

  ‘Yes, the stars you are looking at could have winked out of existence and we wouldn’t know for some time–lots of time.’

  ‘Gracious. I can’t absorb all this.’ I peered up at the skies. In my lazy way, I had always thought of the heavens like a painted dome arching over the Earth in a protective embrace. These two stargazers were suggesting that I was looking out on a vast sea with tiny pinpoints of light like shoals of fish swimming in fathoms upon fathoms of nothing.

  ‘Do you know what Newton said about all this?’ Mabel asked me.

  I shook my head, only having a passing acquaintance with Newton–apple and gravity summed up my knowledge.

  ‘He said he felt like a child gathering up seashells on a beach, while a great ocean of truth stretched before him.’

  So Cat Royal and Sir Isaac Newton shared a thought. Fancy that.

  Billy and I did not share the utter devotion of our two hosts. After an hour of star watching we were both ready to retire inside. Rachel was sitting with a book, a candle by her side, when we came in to the drawing room. She threw it aside without a second glance as she realized she was to have some company for once.

  ‘What shall we do?’ she asked eagerly. ‘Cards?’