by Val Wood
‘Really!’ he said. ‘Well, shall we move on?’ He called to Lorenzo, who had climbed higher up a bank with Jewel, the better to admire the bay. ‘You’ll have food to prepare for this evening, I expect?’
Which he had: a large party was expected that night. Jewel and Clara tried to decline Lorenzo’s request that they should come for supper, thinking that they would be a distraction, but when they got back to the restaurant he and Maria insisted that they would keep a table free for them. Lorenzo didn’t include Federico in the invitation and Clara didn’t know whether to be pleased or sorry about the omission.
Federico, however, seemed indifferent to what might have been a slight, and asked if he might drive them back to their hotel.
‘Would you be so kind as to take us as far as Chinatown?’ Jewel asked him as they stepped into the vehicle. ‘There’s still time to look round before we need to go back to the hotel to change.’
He hesitated. ‘You’re not thinking of going alone? Just the two of you?’
‘Why, yes,’ Jewel said. ‘We did in New York. It’s perfectly safe.’
‘Not here it’s not,’ he answered tersely. ‘There’s always trouble with the Chinese. There are too many of them, that’s the top and bottom of it.’ He gazed openly at Jewel. ‘I don’t mean to offend, Miss Jewel, and I’m not including you in what I say, for you’re a visitor to our country and not wholly Chinese, but—’
‘I beg your pardon, Mr Cavalli.’ Jewel’s voice was icy as she broke in. ‘I must advise you that I was born in this country just as you were, and my mother was Chinese, as perhaps your mother was Italian. I may not have been to California for many years, but I do not consider myself to be a visitor.’ She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘This, in a manner of speaking, is my homecoming.’
He had apologized profusely and humbly. ‘It’s a great weakness of mine,’ he’d said, standing by the surrey with his hand to his chest. ‘I may appear arrogant, I admit. I have too much money, as my friends are always at pains to remind me.’ He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘I often wonder how I keep their friendship, but somehow I do. Forgive me.’
Clara immediately did, for he seemed quite penitent, but Jewel remained aloof even when he offered to escort them into Chinatown. She had coldly refused, and reluctantly he had dropped them close by with the warning to take great care.
‘I do believe he’s quite used to apologizing,’ Jewel said cuttingly, when he had driven off. ‘The words roll off his tongue with consummate ease and don’t mean a thing.’
Clara said nothing. She was bitterly disappointed. He had seemed so charming, an amusing companion; but it was plainly true that he was condescending and self-important and appeared to have done nothing with his life except spend his father’s fortune. But why should we judge, she thought? We don’t know him or anything about him.
‘He’s a wastrel,’ Jewel said.
‘That’s rather strong, cousin,’ Clara protested. ‘He may well have qualities that we’re not aware of, and it’s quite right that he should warn us of danger.’ She looked down the narrow street and the many smaller streets and alleys that led off it. ‘We are strangers to this area, after all, and we are women. Perhaps we’re being foolish to go alone.’
Jewel took her arm. ‘Nonsense,’ she said firmly. ‘We will not do anything to endanger ourselves. We’ll simply observe, and then when I speak to Pinyin, as I intend to do this evening if there is an opportunity, I shall ask him if he would be willing to escort me so that I can make enquiries.’ She cast a glance at Clara, who had a bright spot of colour on each cheek and was pressing her lips together. ‘You don’t have to come with me, Clara,’ she said in a softer tone. ‘When I come again, I mean. But I won’t go without you now, if you don’t want to come.’
‘Of course I’ll come,’ Clara said. ‘We’ll look at the stores as other people are doing.’ She had noticed that there were many sightseers wandering about the streets, looking in shop windows and handling the silks and satins which were displayed on the stalls. It’s odd, she thought, that Jewel considered herself to be a visitor when we were in New York’s Chinatown, and yet here in San Francisco she claims to belong. What has brought about that change, I wonder? Was it seeing her father’s house and remembering that she spent part of her childhood here? And more to the point, will she come home with me, or will she want to stay?
They wandered arm in arm down the centre of the main street, at first keeping a watchful eye on those around them, but, as they became more confident, looking up at the colourful unintelligible signs above the stores. Gradually they drifted towards them, curious to see what items were being sold. Each time they stopped, a shopkeeper appeared in the doorway, bowing deeply and inviting them in broken English to come inside. Politely, they declined and moved on.
All around them were sounds; of tinkling bells and flutes, rattling beads and voices like the chattering of small birds, none of which they understood.
On the corner of an alley was a stall piled high with rich materials: scarlet satin, inky-black silk, deep red brocade with decoration of oriental patterns and flowers imprinted on them; Jewel and Clara were drawn towards them. A musky scent of incense and spice wafted on the air and they glanced beyond the stall to the alley. There was boarding above the entrance, painted with Chinese characters in black and blue, telling them they knew not what; they glimpsed a crowd of men, some Chinese but mainly Caucasian, entering doorways above which young girls peeped out from behind curtained windows.
‘No look, laydee.’ The stallkeeper stood with his back to the alley entrance, blocking their view. ‘Bad men. You come look at my things. All good. Genuine from China.’
He wore a tunic of rough cotton twill and a round cap of the same material on his head; when he turned to pick up a length of material from the stall they saw that his black queue reached below his waist. He held the sample towards them, inviting them to feel the quality.
Clara put her fingers to it. ‘Silk,’ she murmured. ‘Quite wonderful. I might buy some later to take home to Mama and Elizabeth.’
Jewel stood back and shook her head when the stallholder proffered it towards her.
He bowed low and said softly, ‘Welcome back to China, missy.’
Jewel took a breath. Was he welcoming her or was there a threat in his small dark eyes? But he was smiling and bowing in an obsequious way which made her feel embarrassed.
‘Come, Clara, we must move on. There’s so much to see,’ she urged. Clara thanked the man and took her arm.
‘What is it, Jewel?’ she asked, for she thought that Jewel had become quite pale.
‘Nothing. Nothing at all. But I think perhaps you’re right, as was Mr Cavalli: we should bring someone to escort us next time. Shall we turn about and go back?’
‘You said that you would ask Pinyin,’ Clara began, and then hesitated as a distant rumble began. ‘Thunder,’ she said. ‘At least—’
It was not thunder, though the air was hot and dusty. The locals seemed to know what it was as they grabbed their valuables and began to hurry down the street, calling urgently to each other. People rushed out of the buildings, pushing one another out of the way as the ground began to shake.
‘Earthquake!’ Jewel and Clara stared at each other. What to do first? Run! But to where? The main street was suddenly a seething mass of escaping humanity, a throng of jostling bodies pushing and shoving into them. Wooden stalls collapsed and a chimney pot crashed to the ground in front of them.
‘We must try to stay together,’ Clara shouted, for they were being pushed apart by the onrushing crowd.
‘Which way? Which way should we go?’ Jewel shouted back and then screamed as the front of a building collapsed, scattering bricks and glass. A cloud of choking dust enveloped them, filling their mouths and nostrils.
‘Jewel! Jewel! Oh, watch out!’ Clara put her hands up to her face as the ground opened up in front of her, the cobblestones parting into a long slicing gap. People tripped and were
trampled on in the melee as others fell over them in their attempt to escape the danger. The street was so narrow that as the tremors continued and doors and windows collapsed on either side, there was nowhere to hide from the falling debris. Clara saw a fleeing scantily clad girl, no more than twelve or thirteen, being followed by a man who grabbed her arm and pulled her along with him as she screeched and wriggled to escape him. Both fell headlong as they were hit by falling masonry.
‘Jewel! Jewel!’ Clara screamed as she was swept along by a river of people, all intent on saving their own skins. She could smell burning and saw that some of the dilapidated buildings were on fire as their chimneys collapsed and their blazing hearths, open now to the street, were fanned into flames.
She was carried by the fleeing crowd, pushed and shoved and hardly able to keep on her feet, until she reached the other end of Chinatown, the opposite end from where she and Jewel had entered. Just as quickly as they had begun, the tremors quietened and people began to turn back, their voices raised to screeching fever pitch. It was less than five minutes since the earthquake had begun and it was as if they knew it was all over, but Clara felt no such certainty. She was close to a low, sturdily built wall and chose to sit on it to get her breath back, examine her hands and arms for scratches, for she had been hit by falling debris as she’d raised her arms to shield her head and face, and wait for Jewel, in the hope that she too would have been propelled this way.
After about a quarter of an hour Clara decided to walk back. She felt no fear now of being alone, as everyone’s concern seemed to be to gather up what remained of their businesses and homes and get back to some kind of normality, although what would be done about the devastated buildings she had no idea.
She was covered in grit and her hands were filthy, as she knew her face would be too. Her eyes prickled with dust and her nostrils were clogged. She took a handkerchief from her pocket to blow her nose and looked about her as she walked, calling out Jewel’s name until she reached the area where they had been looking at the material on the stall. The boarding above the alley had fallen to the ground but she saw that the young girls were being shepherded, seemingly unwillingly, back into the building. That is not very savoury, she thought. I do believe that they are there under duress.
She saw the stallholder picking up the remains of his broken stall and ventured to speak to him. ‘I beg your pardon,’ she said, ‘but I wonder if you have seen my companion. We were separated.’
He looked at her and, crossing his hands in front of his chest, gave a low bow and shook his head. ‘I no see her. She not here.’
Clara walked on, looking in every corner and down every alley in case Jewel had been injured and was waiting for her. But she wasn’t there. She reached the end where they had come in and looked about her. Some of the other streets were damaged, yet others had not been touched by the quake. But of Jewel there was no sign.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Hull
Before leaving London Wilhelm had sent a cable to Ted informing him of his plans, which he hoped would reach Dreumel’s Creek before he arrived in New York. Sure enough, on his arrival at the Marius a letter from Ted was waiting. It outlined the devastation in Yeller but sounded remarkably upbeat about it. It’s a chance to rebuild a new town, Ted wrote. Some of the men have started on their homes already but we need a town plan, wider streets, firebreaks and a proper fire brigade for a start. I’m glad you’re coming, he’d added. We need your keen mind.
Wilhelm relayed this information in a letter to Georgiana, waiting at home. I must go to them, he wrote. They are my people and I want to help as much as I can. Forgive me, my darling Georgiana, for leaving in such a hurry, but as I know you, then I also know you will understand.
Georgiana gave a wry smile as she read his letter. Well, of course she had known that he would go to Yeller. That was apparent right from the start. The inhabitants of Dreumel’s Creek and Yeller were indeed his people. His determination and perseverance had made their lives possible. Without Wilhelm there would have been no towns. And without Lake, she thought, the half-breed trapper who had shown Wilhelm the valley and subsequently stolen her heart, there would have been nothing.
I’ll follow him, she decided. I’m halfway ready. But should I allow Dan Hanson to travel with me? She thought that she would perhaps be glad of having someone to accompany her; to find porters and take care of her luggage and perhaps ward off lone male passengers who might make a beeline for her. But on the other hand, what kind of companion would he be? He was not at all worldly or experienced. And would Jewel be cross if he followed her? Jewel, Georgiana was convinced, was not at all interested in Dan in a romantic way.
She was deliberating thus over afternoon tea, when her housekeeper knocked on her door. ‘Apologies for disturbing you, Mrs Dreumel,’ she said. ‘But Mrs Hanson is asking if she might see you.’
‘Mrs Hanson?’ Georgiana was puzzled for a moment and then her head cleared. Ah! Ruby. ‘Yes, of course. Ask her to come up, and bring more tea, please.’
She rose to greet Ruby, who was highly embarrassed when Georgiana offered her tea. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she began, ‘but I – well, I don’t know what to do and I asked Grace and she said I ought to come and see you. So I did before I changed my mind.’ She took a deep breath. ‘It’s about Dan and his da.’
Georgiana raised her eyebrows and waited, her hands folded on her lap.
‘They’ve had an almighty row – a quarrel,’ Ruby explained. ‘Dan told his da that he’s thinking of going to America and Daniel hit ’roof. He said that Dan was only going cos of Jewel and if that was ’case then he needn’t bother coming back.’
Georgiana was nonplussed. ‘Why would he say that?’ she asked. ‘Has your husband some antipathy towards Jewel?’
‘Oh, it’s not Jewel,’ Ruby hastily explained. ‘It’s because of me, and what happened with Edward all those years ago. Daniel’s somehow got it into his head that Dan will ask Jewel to marry him, and every time Daniel sees Jewel he thinks of when I was – when I was—’ Ruby’s eyes filled with tears. ‘When I was Edward’s mistress,’ she whispered.
Georgiana leaned across the sofa and clasped Ruby’s hand. ‘But Jewel has nothing to do with you! And besides, you were so young then.’
Ruby nodded. ‘Sixteen,’ she snuffled. ‘And poor! Daniel’s forgotten how poor we all were; how desperate. And he should remember,’ she said, quite fiercely. ‘For he had it hard too.’
‘He’s still jealous,’ Georgiana said softly. ‘After all this time, and Edward long dead!’
Ruby took the handkerchief that Georgiana proffered. ‘And so you see,’ she wiped her eyes, ‘even though Daniel’d be angry if Dan went away, I think it might be for ’best. It would clear ’air and it would be good for Dan cos he’s very frustrated.’ She gave a watery smile. ‘I know that Jewel won’t have him anyway. She’s a class above him and I think she regards him only as a friend; but Dan can’t see that cos he’s obsessed by her. Allus has been.’
The housekeeper brought in more tea. Georgiana thanked her and said she would pour.
‘But if Dan travelled,’ Ruby continued, looking appealingly at her hostess, ‘he might get over her and it’d do him good to see something of another world; his da would have him back, there’s no doubt about that. He’s a good man is my Daniel,’ she said wistfully. ‘He’s just lost his way a bit.’
Georgiana poured the tea and waited patiently. So what was coming next?
‘So I wondered, Mrs Dreumel,’ Ruby licked her lips, ‘and you might think it a proper cheek and not ’right thing to be done or asked for; but I’m onny Dan’s ma and want ’best for him, so I wondered – if you’d mind if – that is, if he decided to go to America, could he travel on ’same ship as you? I think he’d be very helpful towards you, but I’d have peace of mind cos he’s inclined to be a bit hot-headed, and he wouldn’t really know what to do if he was on his own; not that he’d ever admit it.’
So
she doesn’t know, Georgiana mused. Ruby doesn’t know that Dan has already been to see me to ask the same question. But she’s right. It probably would clear the air if Dan went away, and Daniel Hanson might come to his senses when he discovers that his own feelings are not more important than his son’s – or his wife’s either, for that matter.
‘Well,’ she said, taking a sip from her cup, ‘I don’t see why not. He’s an adult, so of course I couldn’t be responsible for him. Jewel won’t be in New York or in Dreumel’s Creek, which is where I’ll be going. I don’t know where she is, but probably in San Francisco.’
Ruby opened her mouth. ‘Oh!’ she exhaled. ‘But aren’t you worried? Grace never said. Just that they weren’t staying in that place where there was a fire.’
Georgiana shook her head. ‘Anxious, yes. But Jewel and Clara are both level-headed young women. They won’t take any chances.’
It seemed then that Ruby grasped what Georgiana had said. That she hadn’t disagreed with her request.
‘So – so you wouldn’t mind if Dan went with you?’ Her face flushed and she smiled so widely that her cheeks dimpled. ‘Oh, that’d be wonderful, and I’d mek sure it’d be all right with his da. I know how to bring him round, and especially if I tell him that Dan’s not going anywhere near where Jewel is.’
‘Nothing to stop him going on, of course,’ Georgiana said wryly. ‘And I’d have no control over that.’
‘I wouldn’t expect it, Mrs Dreumel – Georgiana,’ Ruby protested. ‘Thank you so much. Is it all right if I tell Dan that he should come and speak to you?’
‘Yes.’ Georgiana smiled. ‘You may. If that is what he wants to do.’
That evening, just after she had finished her supper, Dan called on her again. He seemed subdued.
‘My mother said she’d been to see you, Mrs Dreumel,’ he said uneasily. ‘And that you wanted to talk to me. I don’t understand why she came.’
