by Val Wood
‘She came to ask if you could travel to America with me. If you decided to go there, that is.’ Georgiana smiled reassuringly. ‘I didn’t tell her that we had already discussed the matter.’
He was astonished. ‘Ma did that? I can’t believe she’d do such a thing.’
‘She’s very concerned about you,’ Georgiana told him. ‘Mothers always look for ways to help or protect their children.’
‘Yes, but – Ma, she’s not like that! She’s not pushy, or forward, and – well, it’d have taken a deal of effort to come here to speak to you.’
‘Am I such an autocrat? Do I have a sinister reputation that I’m unaware of?’
He laughed, realizing that she was teasing him. ‘No, ma’am. Not that I know about, but Ma’s nervous of those she calls society folk.’
‘Then she has been very brave,’ she told him. ‘She’s a mother to be proud of.’
‘Aye, and I am,’ he said sincerely. ‘And can I ask what your answer was, Mrs Dreumel? Was it yes or no?’
Georgiana looked him in the eyes. She saw honesty there, a frank and direct though slightly anxious gaze right back at her. He’s like most young men, I suspect. Slightly arrogant, with a belief that he knows best. But in spite of that she thought she could trust him.
‘I said yes.’
Ruby hadn’t given Georgiana the whole story regarding Dan and his father. Daniel had decided to go out on the evening that Dan had visited Georgiana and had searched for his bowler. Ruby too had looked for it, and when Thomas saw his father getting more and more irritated by its loss he suggested that perhaps Dan had borrowed it, immediately raising his father’s suspicions. When Dan returned home after visiting a hostelry, Daniel, who had waited up after Ruby had gone to bed, had demanded to know where he had been.
Dan had at first replied that he was old enough to go out of an evening without his father’s permission.
‘But why my bowler?’ his father had asked. ‘Who were you meeting that you wanted to impress?’
In a fit of temper, Dan had replied that it was none of his father’s business but that if he really wanted to know, he had been out for a walk and a drink while he considered the possibility of travelling to America.
When he saw his father’s angry expression he knew what was coming next and before Daniel could speak he spat out, ‘And if I do go, I’ll follow Jewel Dreumel and ask her to marry me.’
His father’s face was red and contorted. ‘Jewel Newmarch!’ he’d spluttered. ‘A bastard child of a libertine. Then marry her, but don’t ever show your face here again.’
It was to Dan’s credit that he’d turned on his heel and walked out of the house. If he’d stayed he knew that he would have struck his father, and that would have been the end of their relationship for ever.
Ruby, on hearing the shouting from upstairs, had come down and demanded to know what was going on. Daniel, shamefaced, had related what he had said.
‘Daniel,’ she’d said slowly. ‘You’ll rue this day and your temper and your suspicions. You might not mind losing your eldest son, but I do.’ She gazed at him steadily. ‘You’ve forgotten.’ Her voice dropped. ‘Your ma and da drove you away from home and when you returned your ma was dead by her own hand.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘She must have had so many regrets over what she’d said in anger.’
Daniel had wept. ‘I’m sorry, Ruby. So very sorry. But I can’t help it. I don’t know what gets into me when I hear Newmarch’s name, and when I see his daughter it’s like a knife in my heart.’
Ruby looked at him but made no effort to console him; she simply turned away and went back upstairs, climbed back into a comfortless bed and sobbed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
What am I to do, Clara wondered as she stood in the middle of the destruction. Do I go back in and search again? Is Jewel injured? Suppose she’s lying beneath a pile of rubble? She felt panic enveloping her. She looked about and saw only unfamiliar Chinese faces, oblivious of her. She tried to quell her terrifying thoughts and be positive. These people are as anxious as I am, she told herself. There was shouting and crying, and people were calling in a language she couldn’t understand.
Then she heard a voice calling her name. ‘Miss Clara! Miss Clara! Over here.’
She looked about her urgently. Who? Who knew her here?
‘Miss Clara!’
Clara looked beyond the immediate crowd, stretching her neck to see above them, and to her relief saw Federico Cavalli. She waved and hurried towards him as he did towards her. He grasped her hand.
‘Thank God!’ he said. ‘I came back as soon as I could. There’s such a panic in the streets I found it difficult to get here. Everyone was running the other way. Where’s Miss Jewel?’
To Clara’s dismay she burst into tears. The shock of the quake and not being able to find Jewel suddenly hit her, making her feel vulnerable.
‘I don’t know.’ Tears streaked her dusty face. ‘I can’t find her. We were pushed to the other end of Chinatown by the crowds and I’ve walked all the way back. But I can’t find her!’
Federico took her arm. ‘We’ll look again,’ he said decisively and to his credit did not mention that he had warned them against coming into Chinatown alone. Clara was glad to let him take charge. She felt weak and helpless, which is ridiculous, she told herself. I’m not some feeble, dependent female, incapable of making a decision. But her knees buckled as they walked and without his hand on her arm she would have fallen.
They reached the stallholder again and Clara pointed him out to Federico. ‘I spoke to him,’ she said, ‘and asked him if he’d seen Jewel. He said he hadn’t.’
‘Well, begging your pardon, Miss Clara,’ Federico murmured. ‘But he might not have noticed her in the confusion, whereas he would have noticed you with your fair hair and fine complexion.’
Clara flushed, but admitted to herself that he might be right. Jewel’s hair was as dark and glossy as that of most of the young Chinese women who were thronging the streets now, and although her features were not wholly Oriental she looked Chinese, except of course for her European dress.
Federico approached the stallholder and spoke to him haltingly in his own language. He shook his head and replied in English. ‘I no see her,’ he repeated, and Federico turned away, muttering tetchily.
‘Can’t get any sense out of the fellow,’ he grumbled. ‘He’d never tell me anyway. Damned heathens.’
Clara was shocked at his language, but was too distraught over Jewel’s disappearance to remonstrate with him. She needed his help, not his antipathy.
She saw Federico glance up the alley and then usher her away. ‘We mustn’t hang about here,’ he told her. ‘It’s an unsavoury area, not for a young woman such as you. That’s why I didn’t want you to come alone.’
‘I’m not entirely unworldly,’ she told him. ‘There are undesirable places in my home town where I would not venture. I am circumspect at all times.’ She didn’t bother to tell him that she lived in the heart of Hull and would not venture into some of the streets after dark except with her father as escort, although her mother did. Grace always said that there was nothing in life to be feared, only to be understood, and it was true that her mother had never been accosted by anyone.
They searched up and down the streets and alleys, and to Clara’s surprise Federico seemed to know some of the Chinese people. He stopped them to ask if they had seen Jewel, but none had.
Eventually Clara said, ‘I must go back to the hotel. Maybe Jewel is waiting there. She might be as worried about me as I am about her. And if she is not there, then I’ll go to Lorenzo’s as arranged and speak to Pinyin and ask if he can help.’
Federico considered. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘I’ll escort you back to the hotel, and if Jewel isn’t there I’ll drive you up to Lorenzo’s and we’ll organize a search party.’
Clara felt sick with apprehension. Please be there, Jewel, she thought. Please, please, please!
But s
he wasn’t. Clara asked the desk clerk, who shook his head at her query, and then she went up to their room. It was as they had left it, except that the staff had made the beds and tidied up. Clara washed her hands and face and changed her gown, for the one she was wearing was filthy. She brushed her hair and put on a clean shawl, then went down to Federico, who was waiting in the lobby.
The desk clerk called to her and came round to the front of his desk. ‘Beg your pardon, Miss Newmarch. I forgot to say that a letter came for you.’
He handed her an envelope on which she recognized her mother’s handwriting. Vaguely she thanked him and slipped it into her pocket.
‘I’m so sorry to inconvenience you,’ she told Federico. ‘I could order a cab.’
‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘The evening is getting on; it will soon be dark. You can’t be going about on your own. It wouldn’t be safe.’
There, she thought. He’s doing it again. Making decisions for me. But perhaps he’s right: Jewel and I promised Uncle Wilhelm that we would be careful at all times and the one time when we weren’t Jewel disappears. So she allowed Federico Cavalli to escort her to his horse and surrey, which were in the stable yard behind the hotel.
‘I came back here as soon as I felt the quake,’ he said, handing her up to sit next to him. ‘I heard that it was worse in Chinatown and was worried that you might be hurt.’
‘You’re very kind,’ Clara murmured. ‘I very much appreciate your concern.’
He smiled and, holding the reins in one hand, clasped her hand with his other. ‘It’s the least I can do,’ he said, and Clara couldn’t understand why, although she was grateful, she was also uneasy.
They travelled in silence up towards Lorenzo’s and Clara eventually extricated her hand on the pretext of using a handkerchief to wipe her eyes.
‘Try not to worry,’ he said. ‘I’m pretty sure we’ll find your friend safe and well.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ she said. ‘I’m afraid that she might have fallen into hostile hands and be in danger.’
He didn’t answer at first and she glanced at his profile and saw his frown and the way he was pressing his lips together in concentration. ‘We’ll find her,’ he said.
The restaurant was full and buzzing with talk of the earthquake, although Clara heard odd bits of conversation which seemed to indicate that it was only a small tremor that had not done a great deal of damage except in Chinatown.
Lorenzo came from the kitchen bearing a huge platter and gave a big grin when he saw Clara, which dropped when Federico closed the door behind him.
He deposited the dish on a table and came over to them. ‘Where’ve you been?’ he asked. ‘I thought you’d be here long ago. Where’s Jewel?’ He searched their faces. ‘You didn’t get caught up in the quake? They’re saying there’s not much damage, although we felt it up here – lost some crockery . . .’ His voice faded away as he saw Clara’s face crumple. ‘Where’s Jewel?’
She shook her head and began to weep. ‘I don’t know,’ she gasped. ‘We can’t find her. We were in Chinatown when the earthquake began. We were separated.’
Lorenzo glanced at Federico for confirmation. ‘I advised them against going in there and after the quake I went back to see that they were safe,’ Federico said. He shrugged. ‘We went in again to look for Miss Jewel but couldn’t find her.’
‘Pinyin!’ Lorenzo bawled through the kitchen door. ‘Come here!’
Pinyin scuttled out of the kitchen, followed closely by Maria. ‘What’s wrong?’ she said. ‘What happened? What did Pinyin do?’
‘Nothing,’ Lorenzo said sharply. ‘Pinyin has done nothing. Pinyin,’ he said urgently. ‘My friend Miss Newmarch is missing in Chinatown!’
Clara noticed that Lorenzo called Jewel Miss Newmarch, not Miss Dreumel, and that Pinyin responded immediately. He looked sharply at Lorenzo. ‘There has been an earthquake in Chinatown,’ he said.
It was the first time Clara had heard Pinyin speak, and although his voice was of a higher tone than a European’s and he had a slight difficulty with his r’s, he spoke good English.
‘Can you help us find her, please?’ she begged.
Pinyin looked at Lorenzo, and then he clasped his fingers together and bowed.
‘You must!’ Lorenzo demanded. ‘Pinyin! You must help. How else can we find her?’ He sounded distraught. ‘God knows what might have happened to her.’ He turned to Federico. ‘Are you sure you looked everywhere? Did you ask anyone?’
Then he turned to his mother who was standing wringing her hands. ‘Everyone is served. Can you manage alone? I must go and Pinyin must come with me. You will, won’t you? We can’t go without you, Pinyin.’
Pinyin bowed again. ‘Of course. I have many uncles and relatives in Chinatown. I will speak to them. If she is still there they will know of it.’
If she is still there, Clara thought? Of course! Jewel might have been concussed by the falling debris and be wandering about anywhere, not just in Chinatown.
Lorenzo hurried across to all the tables and gave his apologies, explaining that a friend had become caught up in the earthquake and he had to leave. He asked his mother to put a complimentary bottle of wine on each table, then he took off his apron, grabbed a coat and ushered them out, with Pinyin following close behind. Suddenly he stopped. ‘Sorry, Miss Clara. You don’t have to come with us. Please! Stay here with Madre.’
‘Oh no!’ Clara protested. ‘Of course I must come. Perhaps Jewel is injured, or – or . . .’ Dire imaginings of what might have happened to her cousin filled her mind and she shook her head to try to banish them. ‘No. She might need me. I have to come.’
‘It is best that Miss Clara comes,’ Pinyin said, ‘in case Miss Newmarch needs another woman’s assistance.’
Federico glared at Pinyin in a patronizing way, as if he shouldn’t have spoken, but he didn’t say anything. But as Clara and Lorenzo climbed into Federico’s surrey, Pinyin said, ‘I will see you at the entrance to Chinatown,’ and holding on to his round hat, his wide trousers flapping, set off at a run down the hill before Federico had gathered up the reins.
Lorenzo turned to Clara. ‘I don’t wish to alarm you, Miss Clara, but I don’t like to think of Jewel being there alone. Most Chinese are fine people, like Pinyin, but there are those who are not and some places in Chinatown where it is wise not to go.’
Clara swallowed. ‘That’s true of many people and places,’ she said in a small nervous voice.
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘But we might recognize certain traits in Americans or English and know when to be wary, whereas the Chinese are inscrutable and don’t show expression as we do. But if anyone can find her it will be Pinyin.’
Clara nodded. She felt a hard knot of anxiety inside her. Whatever would she say to Aunt Gianna and Uncle Wilhelm if anything bad had happened to Jewel? She took a breath. Should she cable them? How long would it take for a cablegram to reach England? But no, she was being ridiculous. They would find Jewel, of course they would, and besides, what was the point in worrying them? There was nothing they could do from such a distance.
They passed the cathedral of St Mary and Lorenzo looked out into the street. ‘Slow down, Fed,’ he called to his friend. ‘Look out for Pinyin.’
Federico muttered something they didn’t catch, but he slowed the horse as they reached the top of Chinatown.
‘There he is!’ Lorenzo said. ‘Just on the corner.’
The surrey stopped to allow Clara and Lorenzo out, and Federico said he would stable the horse and vehicle nearby and catch up with them.
‘How will he know where to find us?’ Clara asked as they hurried towards Pinyin. ‘It’s a big place.’
‘He’ll find us,’ Lorenzo said. ‘Fed knows Chinatown; better than most.’
Clara glanced at him. He sounded crabby, irritated somehow, and Clara felt sure that his displeasure stemmed from annoyance with Federico rather than anxiety over Jewel.
‘Pinyin!’ Lorenzo calle
d, and now he did sound anxious. ‘Have you spoken to anyone yet? Has anyone seen Jewel?’
Pinyin bowed his head to Clara and then turned to Lorenzo. ‘There has been much damage in Chinatown,’ he said. ‘People are injured. Everywhere is confusion.’
‘Dammit, man, I know that,’ Lorenzo bellowed. ‘But has anyone seen Jewel?’
Pinyin shook his head. ‘No. I have asked,’ he said patiently, unperturbed by Lorenzo’s outburst. ‘People remember seeing the English lady and her companion, but not since the quake. I am about to speak to my uncle. He sees much of what happens in Chinatown.’
Clara and Lorenzo hurried after Pinyin, who moved at a quick and nimble trot, and Clara saw him stop by the stallholder they had spoken to earlier. ‘I have asked him already,’ she said, ‘and Mr Cavalli spoke to him too.’
Federico came up behind them. ‘I’ll take a different direction,’ he told Lorenzo; he was slightly out of breath, as if he had been running. ‘It’s better if we split up. There are so many corners in which to look. I’ll try asking in the gambling dens; the doormen generally know what’s happening.’
Clara held her breath. Chinatown was taking on a different atmosphere now that daylight had gone. Lanterns had appeared outside the buildings, giving an eerie glow to the street, and there was a potent smoky aroma which was coming not from the burnt-out buildings but from some of the basements.
People were taking up positions outside the houses and stores. Men sat on stools, smoking vile-smelling pipes and watching the passers-by, and women stood by screened doorways or on balconies, their blue-black hair dressed with flowers and fancy combs. Some were wearing richly embroidered sacque dresses and gold-coloured shoes on their tiny feet, whilst others were dressed in long, wide trousers of brightly coloured satin and played twanging music on small stringed instruments and sang in high-pitched voices.
It seemed that the earthquake had not affected the usual night-time activities, and indeed there appeared to be more people milling around now than there had been during the day.
