The Middle Passage (Cat Royal)

by Golding, Julia

  ‘I see.’

  She sighed. ‘No you don’t. Think of it this way–you’re from the world of the theatre, aren’t you?’

  I nodded.

  ‘This to us is like our debut in a starring role before a royal audience, our launch as serious natural philosophers–now do you understand?’

  I had a day-dream glimpse of myself standing centre stage at Drury Lane, flowers raining upon me as I curtsied for my standing ovation. Astronomers had strange ideas of public success, but I could sympathise with the desire to gain recognition. ‘Oh yes, now I really see.’

  Mabel picked up the tray. ‘Problem is, all our evidence was in my notebooks. We have to be able to quote the times we saw it and where our comet was to prove our case and allow other astronomers to find it in their skies.’

  I held the door open for her. ‘Who else would want such information? I can see why they may want a valuable telescope but your notebooks?’

  ‘I would guess someone who didn’t like my brother or me very much.’ Mabel fixed her social smile on her face again. ‘Come, we can’t abandon my father and Rachel alone with our guests.’

  Having been introduced briefly to the neighbours I sat back in a corner the better to study the local society. It was entirely possible to my suspicious mind that one of them was behind the theft–if the motivation was personal as Mabel had suggested. I watched the ladies and gentlemen closely. Mr Flanders had retired to his study with some of the husbands, lamenting the breach in security over a comforting brandy. Peter stood in one corner with two young men of his own age. They seemed uncomfortable in each other’s company but preferring it to the sea of muslin that dominated the centre of the room. Rachel had taken the leading role, stationed on the sofa surrounded by cooing Mamas, even though she was the least affected by the theft. I wondered if this was because she was too self-absorbed to think of her brother and sister or if she thought she was doing them a favour by drawing the emotional fire upon herself. One lady in an elegant green gown and rejoicing in a towering hairstyle was particularly solicitous, pulling Rachel to her bosom and patting her on the back like a much younger child.

  ‘Who is that lady with Rachel?’ I asked when Mabel approached my corner with a plate of biscuits.

  Mabel wrinkled her nose. ‘Madame Aubert, our nearest neighbour. Those are her sons standing with Peter and her daughter, Anna-Maria, is sitting with Senora Cavallo.’

  I spotted a quiet girl with dark hair and eyes watching the goings on in the room intently. Our gazes met but she was the first to look way. ‘I think Rachel told me of them. Charles and Albert, the brothers?’

  Mabel nodded. ‘Yes. And I imagine they are crowing with delight that we have met with this disaster. They have only a three-foot Newtonian.’

  My mind was trying to fit the puzzle-pieces together. ‘Did you by any chance tell them what you thought you’d found?’

  Mabel looked uncomfortable. ‘We may have hinted–they can be so annoyingly superior, always telling us how much better French natural philosophy is than English.’

  My motives were adding up: jealousy, rivalry, pure spite. ‘Do you think they have it in them to make a strike like this against you?’

  Mabel bit her fingernail nervously as she stared across the room at the two lean French boys. ‘Well, they can be scapegraces, getting into scrapes and getting others into trouble. The only beating I remember Father dealing out to Peter was a few years back when they took a boat round the bay in bad weather, all without permission.’

  I let her follow my suspicious mind to the same conclusions.

  ‘You think it could be them?’

  I shrugged. ‘I am new to this place but they are the most likely culprits from what I’ve heard so far. It is such a specific theft–I doubt common thieves are involved.’

  Mabel sighed. ‘You’re right. But what do we do about it?’

  ‘Go look after your guests and leave it to me. I’ll see if I can come up with a plan.’

  My plan came thanks to the wretched wasps. As I wandered the gardens in the cool of the evening I watched them (from a safe distance) drawn to the trap Mabel had placed on the side table. The sweet scent pulled them in and then they drowned in the water at the bottom of the jar. They had to have seen the fate of their fellow insects, floating on the surface, even hear the fading buzzes as each died, but still they came. Why? Because the smell of honey drove out all thought of self-preservation. Their little wasp brains could only hold one thought at a time and in this case it was ‘food’.

  If my suspicion about the French boys was correct, our thieves were drawn by the stars and the knowledge Mabel and Peter had painstakingly assembled. I guessed that they had heard rumours and caught hints that something big was happening on the terrace with each nightly survey but their own telescope was too poor to see the comet for themselves. Like the fable of the dog in the manger, they had decided if they couldn’t claim the pleasure of the sighting for themselves, they would prevent their neighbours from doing so. As we could hardly demand a search of the Aubert family’s house, we had to draw them into the open. Our honey was to the prize of being the first to announce the sighting of the new comet to the scientific community.

  I explained my idea to Mabel that night. We had to be secret as neither of us thought Mr Flanders would welcome us casting aspersions on the family of his business associates without better proof than our shared instinct that they were likely to be guilty.

  Mabel took out a sheet of creamy paper. ‘Yes, I can do that. Peter will help. I can draft a letter for you to carry back to England with what appears to be the proof–indeed I can remember some of the recordings I noted down–approximate time and elevation above the horizon and so on.’

  ‘Then we have to make a great fuss about me rejoining my ship tomorrow evening for immediate sailing–giving them no chance to send their own letter off. That should annoy them and force them to take action.’

  Mabel raised the pen nib. ‘You mean against you. Are you not putting yourself in danger, Cat?’

  I smiled, thinking just how feeble the two French boys appeared compared to previous foes. ‘Do not worry about that. Mr Shepherd and I are more than a match for them.’

  She nodded and carried on writing. ‘Where is he, by the way? He missed supper.’

  I bit my lip. Last time I saw Billy, he was heading down to the docks. He couldn’t have managed to fool me after all and stolen the telescope? What better cover than to claim to be making inquiries for the very item he had nabbed.

  No, stop. I had to trust my instincts on this. Billy had it in him to steal, but this particular theft offered too little profit and risked losing us our comfortable berth with the Flanders.

  ‘I expect he met with friends and is even now enjoying the dubious entertainments of your town,’ I suggested.

  Mabel shook her head. ‘There’s something about him I can’t quite place. You and he know each other well–you act like a quarrelsome brother and sister if truth be told–but there’s a level to him that I don’t see in you.’

  That would be the lying, thieving, mercenary level.

  ‘Yes, he is an interesting character. I do not travel with him by choice.’

  She blotted her letter and folded it. ‘Oh? You seem to rub along well enough.’ Before I could protest that, she changed the subject. ‘I’ll show this to Peter and make sure the details are convincing enough.’ She turned her gaze to the window where the stars were already emerging. ‘I just pray that I will be able to compose a real letter. It is galling to know the comet is out there for anyone to see and we may never get the credit we deserve.’

  I patted her shoulder. ‘You mustn’t fret. This is a good plan. If we do catch our thieves, we will put that to rights too. I’ll take a letter for you if no faster ship comes in to port before I leave and make sure you make the headlines in the newspapers. You’ll be lionized when you do come to London for Rachel’s debut.’

  Mabel grinned. ‘I have
to do one of those myself first. I’ve been putting it off as long as possible but Papa is sending me next year.’

  ‘And you will be the leading bluestocking then–and I mean that in the kindest way. Gentlemen of learning and intelligence will flock to meet the young lady astronomer, a pleasant diversion from the vapid girls who crowd the ballrooms with more hair than wit. Miss Herschel herself has been much admired and she’s so old–at least forty. When you make your curtsy, you’ll set philosophic hearts pitter-pattering.’

  Mabel chuckled at my teasing. ‘I’d be happy enough to meet Miss Herschel, forget the gentlemen you talk of.’

  ‘Perhaps it can be arranged. Come, let’s take this to your brother. We need him to break the news to Charles and Albert that they are going to be pipped at the post.’

  ‘Pipped?’

  ‘Beaten to the punch.’

  She threaded her arm through mine so we could walk together. ‘Cat, you have a most extraordinary turn of phrase for a young lady.’

  ‘You should see my friends if you think I’m strange.’

  She squeezed my elbow. ‘I’d like that. Are they like Mr Shepherd?’

  ‘No, they’re much, much nicer.’

  Scene 2: Setting the trap

  I took a late breakfast and found that Billy still had not returned. Against all my usual modes of thought, I began to worry–and, Reader, let me assure you that it is mighty strange to worry about what had happened to Billy rather than worry what he was planning for others.

  The only person at the table was Mr Flanders who was leafing through some letters while helping himself to a substantial meal. I decided to appeal to him for advice as to what I should do, but he seemed unruffled that one of his guests had gone missing.

  ‘You are a gently bred lady, Miss Royal,’ he began, buttering his toast.

  If only he knew.

  ‘Your friend has different interests to a young girl. You should leave him be while he is on shore leave.’

  Meaning Billy was probably on a grand tour of all the lowest dives Angra had to offer.

  ‘I thought he would send word if he stayed away,’ I explained.

  Mr Flanders gave me a ‘poor girl’ smile. I tried not to hiss. ‘I will make enquiries if he does not return tonight. How is that?’

  It would have to do. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘A man of many talents, your Mr Shepherd,’ Mr Flanders continued.

  ‘Not my Mr Shepherd,’ I chanted under my breath. This was becoming an alarmingly common accusation.

  ‘He has some fascinating ideas about how we can do business together.’

  Oh no. ‘Ah, I see.’ I sipped my tea.

  ‘Indeed, I must see about drawing up a contract with him before you depart.’ Mr Flanders was now talking more to himself than to me. ‘I’ll call on my lawyer this morning. When do you expect to sail?’

  I glanced at the maid clearing the plates from the table. This was all part of my subterfuge. Mabel and I wanted everyone in the house to believe I was about to depart so that gossip would reach the Auberts through multiple sources. ‘I thought I might go enquire today, but very soon I would guess. The captain took on a consignment of perishable cargo in his hold–pineapples I believe.’

  The maid was listening, I could tell from the sparkle of interest in her eyes.

  ‘I’m taking an important letter for Mabel with me–for her astronomer friends in London.’

  Mr Flanders dabbed his mouth with a linen napkin. ‘Such a shame about their telescope. I must see about arranging for a replacement–won’t be as good of course, but it will be better than the naked eye. I can’t deprive my children of their chief amusement.’

  It was far more than an amusement to them–I wondered if he realized how serious they were about it. But then, from my observation of families, parents often missed the obvious when they looked at their own offspring. Take Johnny and his father: the earl hadn’t realized his son was a radical cartoonist until almost too late[2].

  Peter and Mabel came in together, Rachel trailing behind.

  ‘We are going to pay a call on the Auberts, Miss Royal. Do you care to come and bid them farewell?’ Peter asked.

  ‘Yes, that would be perfect.’ I stood, pushing my chair back before Mr Flanders could assist me. ‘Let me fetch my bonnet.’

  Walking the short distance to the Auberts’ house I realized that they lived in the opposite direction to the one the thieves had taken through the garden. This niggled. Had I got it wrong? Sharing a taste for astronomy and being male did not make you a thief.

  Rachel skipped up and slipped her hand into mine. ‘Are you really going so soon? I thought you were with us for a week at least?’

  Clearly Mabel and Peter, so used to their little cabal of two, had not thought to inform their younger sister what was afoot. I thought that very unwise: she could ruin our plan before we even started.

  ‘Rachel, can you keep a secret?’

  She nodded, her honey-blond curls bobbing enthusiastically. ‘Yes, of course. How exciting!’

  I quickly sketched out our suspicions and our scheme to lure the Aubert boys into a trap of our devising. She was quick to catch on, not surprised that I was accusing her neighbours of a horrid crime.

  ‘How can I help?’ she asked.

  I decided there and then that there was more to Rachel than her brother and sister realized. ‘By pretending that I am on the point of leaving. They must be forced to show their hand.’

  The Aubert household was a little grander than the Flanders establishment, more servants in attendance, several gardeners clipping the hedges, a preponderance of gilt furniture in the foyer. I imagined it the kind of place that would appeal to Billy’s showy tastes. The gardens were more controlled than their neighbours, showing the inhabitants’ pretentions to ape the formal gardens of the Tuilleries rather than Mother Nature. The white stone mansion looked down on the same stunning view of the harbour. I could just spy my ship still riding at anchor, from this height a water beetle come to momentary rest on the surface of a blue lake.

  Madame Aubert received us graciously in her morning room. She had an embroidery frame at her side, a needle trailing scarlet thread as she worked a fleur-de-lis into the fabric. Anna-Maria sat on a low stool by the window, a book open on her knee.

  ‘My dears,’ she said in French, ‘and Miss Royal. How kind of you to call. I’ll ring for something cool to drink.’ She fanned herself. ‘By all the saints, it is hot today!’

  I looked around the room, hoping to spot the brothers lurking, but no luck.

  We took the offered seats. Rachel immediately placed herself beside Anna-Maria; Mabel glanced over once then left the younger girls to their hushed conversation.

  Peter waited for the lemonade to be served, then broached the main reason for our presence.

  ‘Are Charles and Albert here, Madame?’

  ‘Oh no.’ Madame Aubert smiled serenely. ‘They are down at the port with their father–an interesting consignment of books came in from Paris last evening. Several scientific works which might amuse you, Peter–do ask them to share.’

  ‘What a shame: it looks as though I will miss them,’ I declared brightly. ‘I expect to sail any moment now so I came to bid you farewell.’

  Madame Aubert gravely bowed her head. ‘A brief acquaintance, Miss Royal, and one sadly marred by the theft. I hope you do not leave with a bad impression of our little island society?’

  ‘Oh no, you’ve all been most kind to a stranger.’

  After another twenty minutes of small talk (how do fine ladies do this every day?), we heard a noise in the foyer–laughter and male voices. Madame Aubert rose.

  ‘Ah, we are fortunate: they are back earlier than I expected. I will call them in.’

  The two chief suspects sauntered into the room. The taller, Charles, reminded me somewhat of his English namesake, Charles I: a head of long dark curls tied back, and large puppy-ish brown eyes. It was hard to imagine him doing anything w
icked until you saw him smile–his lips were ripe with mischief. Albert had limp black hair cut short and a rather unfortunate complexion that looked like the surface of an uncooked currant loaf. I hoped for his sake he would grow out of it. If I had to guess, I would say he was the brains behind the two brothers’ escapades, making up for lack of looks with excess of cunning.

  ‘My darlings, you are just in time to say goodbye to our Miss Royal. She returns to England immediately.’

  Charles flourished a bow, deeper than necessary in a drawing room of a merchant’s wife. ‘Our lives will be all the poorer as we will lose her.’

  Definitely guilty. Someone capable of such empty observations must be culpable–of breaching good taste at the very least.

  ‘Thank you, sir. But I am pleased to take a little memento with me as well as doing a service to my kind hosts.’ I smiled at Mabel and Peter. ‘Fortunately, our astronomers here were able to record their exciting findings before their telescope was so cruelly taken from them. I rush to Greenwich to announce the news of their comet with the Astronomer Royal himself.’

  ‘A new comet?’ exclaimed Rachel. ‘Is that what you’ve been working on all those nights?’ She turned to Anna-Maria. ‘I told you they were up to something.’

  Anna-Maria’s expression became very sour at the revelation, prompting me wonder if she was part of her brothers’ conspiracy to spoil the English astronomers’ plans. Thus far, I had rather overlooked her as she was so mouse-like.

  ‘Yes, it is quite an honour for the island,’ I continued to gush, hoping I was annoying them all to the point where they would retaliate. ‘The first time such young persons have sighted a comet I understand. They will be the toast of European drawing rooms.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ growled Albert, sounding as if he meant quite the opposite.

  ‘You must show us tonight,’ smiled Charles blithely. ‘Oh, I forgot, you can’t–you have no telescope.’

  ‘But it is there, nonetheless, we have proof,’ Mabel said with fighting spirit, daring him to cast doubt on her word.