Homecoming Girls

by Val Wood

  Homecoming Girls

  Val Wood

  Random House (2010)

  * * *

  Synopsis

  Hull, 1874. The beautiful, mysterious Jewel Newmarch, adopted as a baby, turns heads wherever she goes - her exotic looks point to her origins far away from the streets of Hull. Even at her cousin Elizabeth's wedding, she is the belle of the ball. But as she looks on at the happy, newly-married couple she feels a restlessness and intense longing to know her own roots. And so she decides to return to her birthplace in America, taking the bride's twin sister Clara as her companion. In discovering the mysteries of Jewel's past the girls realise that this is a life-changing voyage of discovery for both of them, as they learn important lessons about family, friendship, love and home. But most importantly, love...

  Val Wood

  Contents

  Cover

  Title

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Also by Val Wood

  Sources

  Map

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  About the Author

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Version 1.0

  Epub ISBN 9781409010661

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  TRANSWORLD PUBLISHERS

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  A Random House Group Company

  www.rbooks.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain in 2010 by Bantam Press an imprint of Transworld Publishers

  Copyright © Valerie Wood 2010

  Valerie Wood has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9780593066997

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Addresses for Random House Group Ltd companies outside the UK can be found at: www.randomhouse.co.uk

  The Random House Group Ltd Reg. No. 954009

  2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1

  For my family with love, and for Peter

  Also by Val Wood

  THE HUNGRY TIDE

  ANNIE

  CHILDREN OF THE TIDE

  THE ROMANY GIRL

  EMILY

  GOING HOME

  ROSA’S ISLAND

  THE DOORSTEP GIRLS

  FAR FROM HOME

  THE KITCHEN MAID

  THE SONGBIRD

  NOBODY’S CHILD

  FALLEN ANGELS

  THE LONG WALK HOME

  RICH GIRL, POOR GIRL

  For more information on Val Wood and her books, see her website at www.valeriewood.co.uk

  A child’s life is like a piece of paper on which every person leaves a mark.

  Chinese proverb

  SOURCES

  Books and information for general research:

  Hawgood, John A., The American West: The Revolution in Western Transportation, Frontier Library, Eyre & Spottiswood, London, 1967.

  Sheehan, James Joseph, History of the Town and Port of Hull, John Green, Beverley, 1866.

  And the free dictionaries by Farlex and Wikipedia for general information on Han Chinese and Old St Mary’s Cathedral, San Francisco.

  PROLOGUE

  In the mid-nineteenth century there had been great poverty and distress in the port town of Hull. Cholera, typhus and malnutrition killed off many inhabitants, opium addiction was rife and there were mutterings from the abandoned poor who considered that they suffered much injustice at the hands of the rich and more fortunate. Those amongst them who concluded that they needed to eat and work in order to stay alive and keep a roof over their heads eventually gave up complaining when hunger and apathy sapped their energy.

  In those days, two young women on the brink of starvation in a final desperate act took control of their own lives. One, normally quiet and reserved but with a yet undiscovered inner core of steel, became a beacon of hope as she railed against oppression and inequality and spoke up for the rights of herself and others like her; whilst the other, hungry and deprived, succumbed to the lure of a life of comparative ease and became the mistress of a rich and married philanderer.

  The consequences of these naive young women’s actions were to stretch out for twenty years or more, touching the lives of many and even reaching the shores of America, which for some wasn’t quite the land of opportunity – the Eldorado – it was meant to be.

  Into this New World a child of mixed parentage was born; of her Chinese mother nothing was known except that she too had escaped from oppression, and about her father there were many questions but few answers. It was to the old town of Hull that the child was returned.

  There were many who were curious about her, and wondered about her ancestry. Residents in the port town were used to foreign sailors, brown and weathered, speaking languages that they couldn’t understand, whose only English words were girls or room. Seamen might occasionally come across a Chinese cook, but rarely did people of that nationality arrive in this eastern harbour. Sometimes women were smuggled off the ships, young pretty women, their faces pale with fear, who, speaking with Germanic or Scandinavian accents, begged to be taken back home.

  But never young women like her. Rich, beautiful, and with a cool enigmatic glance which defied interrogation. Oriental, the gentry whispered as they speculated. They knew her father, of course, or once did, for he was long dead. The Newmarch family was well known in t
he town, not only for their wealth, but for their industry and charity, and she was part of it. Her family and close friends knew what little there was to be known, but for the rest she was shrouded in a cloak of mystery and intrigue and many stories were told about her. Over the years the tales faded into obscurity as she was accepted as part of the community, until strangers arrived and asked about her, and then they began again, increasing in exaggeration and veiled insinuation.

  CHAPTER ONE

  March 1874

  Jewel watched her cousins from across the floor of the state ballroom in the Royal Station Hotel: Elizabeth, married for only an hour, golden-haired, elated and vivacious beside her new husband; on her other side, her twin, Clara, almost but not quite her double, palely serene, but, as Jewel knew well, anxious and fearful at the thought of having lost the sister who for twenty years had been an inseparable part of her life.

  Jewel swept towards them, her rose-coloured watered-silk gown rustling and the feathers in her headdress gently tossing and quivering; she and Clara had been Elizabeth’s attendants, and as they had walked down the aisle of St Mary’s Church she had been conscious that she was turning heads with her oriental looks, her dark almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones. She was aware of her beauty, but it meant little to her. She had no vanity or pretensions, but was liberated and worldly.

  She took Clara’s arm now. ‘Come, cousin,’ she said. ‘Let these two lovebirds enjoy their dancing. It might be for the last time; they will be so busy playing house and embroiled in matters of housekeeping that there will be no time for such pleasures.’

  Elizabeth’s husband, Patrick Goodson, not yet used to Jewel’s particular brand of humour, frowned a little and glanced at Elizabeth.

  ‘She teases.’ Elizabeth laid her hand on his arm and arched her fine eyebrows. ‘She is jealous because I have caught the most eligible man in town and there is no one left for her.’

  ‘I say!’ Patrick flushed, but was flattered nevertheless.

  Jewel gave him one of her inscrutable glances, which confused him even more. He was not a handsome man, being rather thin, with angular features, but Elizabeth had declared him to be masterly in discourse and an accomplished conversationalist. Jewel had not yet heard him say anything to convince her of this, but one thing was for sure: he was very rich, and Elizabeth, having being brought up thriftily by wise and prudent parents, was quite prepared to help him spend his wealth.

  ‘So, Clara,’ Jewel said softly as she led her cousin away. ‘Now that Eliza has tied herself down, what shall we do? Some adventure is called for, I think.’ She drew Clara’s arm affectionately into hers as they strolled towards the foyer lounge. ‘Something to keep you occupied now that your sister is otherwise engaged.’

  ‘I am bereft!’ Clara said tearfully. ‘Oh, I’m pleased for Elizabeth, for them both, please don’t think that I’m not, but we’ve—’

  ‘I know,’ Jewel murmured. ‘You’ve always been a twosome, but now – well, you’re just like me,’ she added brightly. ‘You’re now an only child. You’ll be spoilt and indulged by your mama and papa just as I am by mine.’

  She looked across the room and raised a hand to Georgiana and Wilhelm, who were chatting to other guests. They were not her birth parents but had adopted her after her father died. Edward Newmarch, whose features and mannerisms were now indistinct in her memory, had been the brother of Martin, the twins’ father; they, she always considered, really were her own flesh and blood in spite of her mixed-race background.

  After Edward Newmarch’s death in America, Georgiana, who had travelled to that country in search of a new life, had brought Jewel to England to meet her relatives who lived in the northern town of Hull; they were followed by American-born Wilhelm Dreumel, who found that he could not live without either of them, married Georgiana and adopted Jewel. They settled in the town, but were well travelled, making frequent journeys to America and the Netherlands where Wilhelm’s forebears were born.

  ‘I don’t think that you’re spoilt, Jewel,’ Clara said. ‘But your parents are very liberal, are they not? They have taken you with them on most of their travels.’

  ‘Mm, but not recently,’ Jewel mused. ‘Oh, I’ve been to Europe – Italy and France and the Netherlands of course – but I haven’t been to America for, what, ten years, and then we went to Dreumel’s Creek, not to California as I wanted to.’

  Clara smiled. ‘Gadabout,’ she murmured, and then sighed. ‘Imagine having a town named after you. Yet Uncle Wilhelm is so unassuming.’

  Jewel nodded. ‘He is. He’s a darling. But of course it was his land, that’s why it’s called after him. It was shown to him by a half-breed Iroquois trapper; Papa purchased it and then he found gold. It’s quite a large town now, but back then it was a deep hidden valley surrounded by mountains, with the creek running through it. That’s what Mama says, at any rate, but I can barely remember it even though I lived there for a while. I was only three or four at the time, and then when I was taken back I was ten and the town had grown. Papa goes regularly, of course, as he has business and property there.’

  Jewel’s age was a contentious subject. Even her birth date wasn’t known. Her mother, Tsui, was Chinese and had lived with Jewel’s father Edward; then inexplicably she had left him, giving no reason why and no indication of where she was going. Twelve months later a Chinese woman had brought baby Jewel to her father’s house and told him that Tsui was dead, the child was his – which he never doubted – and that if he didn’t take her she would be sold.

  Georgiana had decided on a date for Jewel’s birthday after the child had cried inconsolably during the twins’ fifth birthday party. She had chosen 14 May in the hope that the sun would always shine on that day and they would be able to picnic in a park or by the seaside. After discussion with Martin Newmarch regarding the dates of Edward’s departure to America and her meeting him there she had decided that the year of Jewel’s birth was probably 1853.

  ‘Dan and Thomas are coming over,’ Clara said now, as she spotted the sons of her mother’s best friend walking towards them.

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ Jewel muttered. ‘Can we escape? If we’re seen talking to them here, everyone will put two and two together and start asking us when our nuptials will be!’

  ‘We all know that Dan adores you,’ Clara laughed, ‘and that Aunt Ruby would love to have you as a daughter-in-law.’

  ‘How ridiculous!’Jewel said scathingly. ‘We do nothing but bicker when we meet, and, besides, I have absolutely no intention of becoming anyone’s daughter-in-law. Much as I love Aunt Ruby,’ she added.

  ‘Ladies!’ Dan gave a sweeping exaggerated bow to greet them, whilst his younger brother smiled sheepishly. ‘How charming you both look. Absolutely delightful.’ He bent over Clara’s hand and put it to his lips and then turned to do the same to Jewel, who put both hands behind her back.

  ‘Stop acting the goat, Dan,’ she scoffed. ‘Posturing doesn’t suit you. We prefer it when you are your usual forthright self.’

  ‘Like you, you mean?’ he retaliated. ‘There’s no one more forthright or direct than you, Jewel. But I meant it.’ He turned to Clara. ‘You look beautiful, Clara,’ he said in a softer tone to that reserved and gentle young woman, who flushed and looked away.

  ‘You’re embarrassing her,’ Jewel reprimanded him. ‘It isn’t what we expect from friends we’ve known all our lives.’

  Thomas spoke up. ‘Well, you do both look nice, and – and don’t you think we look handsome, all toffed up in our best?’

  Clara nodded in agreement. The young men did look handsome in hired tail suits with yellow spotted cravats and carnations in their buttonholes. Jewel glanced slyly at Thomas and then said lazily, ‘I’m not sure if I don’t prefer you with sawdust in your hair, Thomas, but yes – I suppose!’

  ‘Take no notice,’ Dan told his brother. ‘She’s no idea of style.’ He grasped Jewel’s hand, which she had dropped to her side, and before she had chance to pr
otest said, ‘Come on. I’ll show you how to dance,’ and led her away.

  ‘I wasn’t aware that you could dance,’ she said as they returned to the ballroom, where a circular waltz was taking place. ‘And besides, you haven’t marked my card. I might be booked.’

  ‘I can’t,’ he replied, looking with some trepidation at the dancers. ‘And I know you’re not booked. I saw you run off with Clara before anyone could ask you.’

  She hid a smile. Dan knew her so well. ‘Let’s wait,’ she said. ‘The polka is next and it’s more fun.’ She gazed across the room, avoiding his eye. ‘I want to tell you something, anyway.’

  He looked down at her. His heart skipped a beat whenever he saw her. He’d been fascinated by her since their first meeting when they were only children. He had watched her constantly, gazing at her dark eyes and long black shining hair, and listening to her strange way of speaking, although that accent had gone now. His mother had eventually told him that he must stop staring at her; she was just an ordinary little girl but from another country and with a foreign mother. But the attraction never went away. He was completely smitten, totally enthralled and bewitched by her, even though he knew that his ardour was not returned. To counter his feelings, he pretended a wry nonchalance and occasional antagonistic stance towards her, which fooled nobody.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘What?’ She frowned.

  ‘You said you had something to tell me.’

  ‘Mm,’ she murmured, and waited for the waltzers to come off the floor. ‘Yes, I do, but the polka is about to start. Do you know how to do it?’

  ‘No,’ he exclaimed. ‘Of course I don’t.’

  ‘Then follow me,’ she said as the music began. ‘There are only two steps to remember so it’s quite easy. Take my left hand with your right. Raise your left foot behind the right, then a little jump with the right foot, then the second step, hop with your left heel, then the toe – what’s the matter?’