Tabitha wasn’t the least hurt by that remark, she had heard Matty say such things almost all her life. The older she got, the more she sought out the company of ordinary people. She liked nothing better than a chat with Alice, or Jackson the coachman.
‘Maybe you should have stayed in San Francisco,’ Tabitha said, perching on the arm of the chair. ‘You had so many people there that you liked.’
‘It wasn’t the same after Sidney died,’ Matilda said, and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I was glad when Mary married again, but she didn’t need me sticking around reminding her of the past. Dolores and Henry Slocum had gone too. Besides, Peter and Lisette came here, and Mary’s children are all off in different places.’
Tabitha and Sebastian’s worst fears about Sidney’s recovering from that beating were realized. It left him brain-damaged. He recovered enough to walk, talk, feed and dress himself, even his red hair grew back over the scar, but he was just like a big, amiable six-year-old.
Once Matilda and Mary knew how it was going to be, Matilda had the apartment above London Lil’s extended further, so there was more room for all of them, and took Sidney home. He could still lift beer barrels, sweep the floor and do simple jobs, but there was no question of him running the saloon any more, or being a real husband and father. Mostly he sat out out on the veranda and stared at the view of the bay. Matilda hired a permanent manager, and she and Mary looked after the children together.
Sidney died fifteen years ago when he was fifty, his five children were then ranging between sixteen and twenty-four, and Mary still a very attractive woman of forty-seven. The man she married a year later had been her lover for almost ten years, but the only person who had known that was Matilda, and it was only a short while ago that Mary had told Tabitha herself.
Ten years ago, when Matilda was sixty-four, she finally sold London Lil’s. Since the miraculous cable car was run up California Street Hill, right past her place, land up there had suddenly become the most sought after in the entire city. Millionaires began to build mansions, and it soon became known to everyone as Nob Hill. To Peter and Tabitha it seemed very ironic that London Lil’s, which had supported so many people, and been such a major part of Matty’s life and character, should finally make her a millionairess when it was torn down.
But once it was gone, with all its memories, there seemed to be little to keep Matilda in San Francisco. She stayed for a while, set up trust funds to enable her working girls’ hostel and the two houses in Folsom Street to keep running, and when Peter came to New York, she decided that was where she belonged too.
Tabitha knew that Matilda had always blamed herself for Sidney’s brain damage, though she never said as much. She had loved and protected Mary and her children, and nursed Sidney right to the end. It was another, rather sweet irony that the shooting, rather than causing outrage, had finally brought her not only acceptance in San Francisco’s society, but the admiration she so richly deserved. In her own time she had become a legend of the Old West, and where once people whispered salacious stories about her, now they loudly proclaimed her courage, good deeds, her sparkling personality and her beauty.
Tabitha smiled fondly at Matilda and wiped her eyes dry Old as she was, she had retained the essence of her youthful beauty. Her blue eyes were still lovely, she still had her teeth, and her smile as warm as it had been when she was a girl. ‘Now, you old fraud,’ she said. ‘I know the real reason you came here, and it wasn’t because you had no friends left there. It was because you were too vain to let anyone in that town see you grow old!’
Matilda smiled. She knew there was some truth in that. ‘I should have gone back to England,’ she said. ‘I think I will go too,’
Tabitha shook her head, her eyes smiling. ‘You don’t really want to go back, you belong here, where you are wanted and needed. Now, I guess Alice has the supper ready. I’ll tell her we’ll have it in front of the fire tonight. Then you can have a nice hot bath and I’ll read you some David Copperfield in bed.’
‘It’s funny how we get used to things,’ Matilda said thoughtfully. ‘Like turning on a tap and getting hot water, then pulling out a plug and seeing it run away. Back in Primrose Hill I had to lug so many buckets of water up the stairs for your bath. I thought it would always be that way. I was looking at the Brooklyn Bridge today and I had a job to remember what the river looked like before it was built. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to clean the oil lamps, and to go to a privy outside.’
‘I don’t think I want to remember that sort of thing.’ Tabitha laughed. ‘Every time I switch on the electric light here in this apartment I think it’s a miracle. I’m not a bit nostalgic for the old days.’
‘I am, but I suppose that’s because I’m getting so old. Sebastian always said folk revert to children again once they are past seventy.’
‘You’ll never be really old.’ Tabitha patted her cheek affectionately. ‘Now, I’m going to see about the supper.’
Tabitha had her ears pricked as she heard the bath water running away later. Matilda loved baths, she would wallow in one for hours. She still liked beautiful clothes too, and dainty underwear, try as she might, Tabitha could never get her to wear a woollen vest, or a flannel petticoat. Matilda loved the feel of silk, and as much lace and embroidery as possible.
Tabitha didn’t hear the bathroom door open, but she knew when it had by the waft of expensive French perfume, and again she smiled. Perfume was another of Matty’s luxuries, she put it on even to go to bed. She would give her half an hour to brush her hair, and rub cream into her hands, then she’d go in to her and read.
Sadly Matilda’s eyesight was fading fast, she could no longer see to read, and this was one of the reasons why Tabitha worried about her ordering the carriage and going wandering around by the docks. Jackson always insisted he never let her out of his sight, but Tabitha knew he was lying. Matilda charmed him, just as she had been doing with people all her life.
She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment. There was hardly a day in her life that Tabitha didn’t thank God for Matilda. Thanks to her she’d escaped an orphanage, become a doctor, encouraged Sebastian enough for him to ask her to marry him, reared three children and had over twenty-five years of loving and being loved.
Marriage had been the best part of her life, she loved her children and her home, yet Sebastian had given her the freedom to have a career of her own too. She’d got her wealthy women clients with their female problems, but she’d also had the satisfaction of becoming respected in her own right as a good doctor, regardless of the fact that she was a woman. Since Peter had come to New York, the pair of them had made many inroads into improving the health of the immigrants in New York. While he had raised money for free clinics, she had manned them and persuaded others to join her.
Tabitha and Sebastian had expected that Peter would turn his back on the poor after what happened to Sidney, and few would have blamed him. But it had the reverse effect, making him care still more. As the years had gone by, his was the voice of thunder which roared among the wealthy socialites, and made them open their eyes to the true evils of poverty. He campaigned for better housing, hospitals, schools, holidays in the country for slum children. He made the rich open their wallets and gave them a conscience, so they volunteered to help, yet he did it with such charm and grace that he retained their friendship.
There was still a great deal more to do, but Tabitha knew her son Alfred would join them in the fight before long, for he had heard Matilda’s tales since he was a little boy and she was his idol. Tabitha often thought the boys’ names should have been switched around. Alfred was so like her father, while Giles was like Sebastian. Lily was just like the flower, tall, elegant and poised. Perhaps time would tell if she had inherited the gentle qualities of her grandmother along with the name.
Tabitha came to with a start, and realized she had fallen asleep. It was now after ten and she hadn’t gone in to read to Matty as she’d promised.
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She jumped up and went out into the long passage which led down to Matty’s room. A beam of light shone out from under her door, and Tabitha guessed she’d fallen asleep waiting. She tiptoed down the hall, for Matty was a light sleeper and she didn’t want to wake her.
Matty was asleep, her hands in their white cotton gloves which she put on nightly after anointing them with cream, spread out on the sheets. Her hair was brushed, still blonde, though faded now and a little thin, like pale gold satin embroidery thread. She was wearing her newest night-gown, a turquoise-blue silk, the ruffled neckline hiding the neck she complained was growing crêpey.
Tabitha stole in to turn out the bedside light, but paused a moment because she saw a note-pad by Matty’s hands. It looked like a list, and she picked it up out of curiosity.
‘What I need for England’ was what she’d written at the top in her thin, spidery writing. ‘Four ballgowns, matching slippers, riding habit (velvet). Fur coat and hat. Walking shoes. Two suits for country, four town, with suitable hats. 6 afternoon dresses.’
The list stopped abruptly, the pencil still beside the pad. As Tabitha looked at its position she realized Matilda had fallen asleep while writing it, her right hand slightly away from the left.
All at once she was doctor rather than daughter, and a sixth sense told her Matilda had slipped away. She took her hand to feel her pulse, but even before her fingers touched the bare skin, she knew Matilda was dead.
It was sheer professionalism which stopped her calling out for Alice. But she sank to her knees beside the bed and bent her head on to it and sobbed.
For fifty-eight years, almost to the day, from tiny tot through to becoming a grandmother, she’d loved Matty. She had been by her side at all the major points of her life – the first day at school, the death of her parents, her first steps in nursing, when she got her degree in medicine, her wedding, the birth of her first child – and on Sebastian’s death she’d been there to comfort her. Yet it wasn’t all those major events that were so important now, it was the little kindnesses, the caring, sharing and laughter. She was indeed mother, sister and friend, the dearest, most precious person in her life.
‘What are we going to do without her?’ Peter said, tears running down his cheeks as he embraced Tabitha. Alice had run round to his house to get him, and he’d run here so fast he was still panting.
‘She wouldn’t want us to say that,’ Tabitha whispered, and slid her arms around him. They held each other tightly, crying on each other’s shoulders, both aware in their grief of all the others who had loved this woman, but had gone before her. ‘She’ll be reunited with them all now,’ Tabitha murmured. ‘Her father, Lily, Giles, John, Cissie, Amelia, Susanna, Zandra, Dolores and Sidney, but most of all James.’
After Peter had gone in to see Matty, they went into the drawing-room and sat down by the fire, cried together and talked, Tabitha of her memories from when she was a little girl, of Missouri when her parents died, and the wagon train.
‘I wish I’d been old enough to understand that James was in love with her even then,’ she said sadly. ‘I adored him, I would have given anything to have him as a father. How different things might have been if he’d only told Matty how he felt.’
‘But then we wouldn’t have all become a family, would we?’ Peter said. ‘Imagine if Cissie hadn’t had Matty around when John died.’ He went on then to talk about how terrible it was when he lost his mother and sisters, his first memories of San Francisco, and seeing Matty in love with James.
‘She would light up when he was there,’ Peter said. ‘And he was the same. You could feel something in the air between them, it made you tingle just to be in the same room.’
‘She was so brave at his funeral,’ Tabitha said, tears running down her cheeks. ‘It was so awful, all those long mounds of earth, and still more trenches to be dug so the rest could be buried. We could smell the bodies, even though they covered them so we couldn’t see them. She kept her head up, and her back straight, she was as much a soldier as the men who came to pay their last respects.’ She paused to dab at her eyes.
‘I never saw such courage, Peter. When they sounded the last post, she was trembling, but she walked forward to lay her posy of flowers on his grave. She’d made it that morning, wrapped a wet bandage round the stems so the flowers wouldn’t die too fast. She kissed it and put it down, her tears were glinting on the petals like dew.’
Peter drew her into his arms. Neither Tabitha nor Matilda had ever spoken before about the funeral. He guessed it had been too painful to relive it.
‘It wasn’t fair that she should lose so many times,’ he said, his voice croaking with emotion. ‘She deserved better.’
They were overcome with grief, both constantly saying they couldn’t believe she’d gone. But by talking about all she’d been to them, of how she’d been as a young woman, and how frustrating she’d found it to be growing old, losing her once keen sight, slowly it came to them that a quick and painless death, as hers had been, was what she would have wanted.
‘She once told me all she cared about was that she’d made a difference in people’s lives,’ Tabitha said at length. ‘Well, she did, didn’t she, Peter? Not just to you and me, but all who were touched by her. If we were to make a list now of all the people she made life better for, it would take all night.’
‘There was even your mother-in-law.’ Peter half smiled as he remembered.’ Do you remember how outraged she was by Matty shooting those men? Sebastian thought she’d have a heart attack. But how she changed her tune once Matilda was said to be a heroine! She loved that, she dined out on her connection to Matilda for years!’
Tabitha smiled too. She had never really grown to like Anne Everett, however hard she tried to, and some of the hateful things she’d said about Matty at the time still made her angry.
‘Do you know, she used to tell people that the man Matty killed had robbed and murdered countless rent collectors. She just made that up. I don’t think the police ever discovered anything much about the man. Anne used to say, “Of course she could have been sent to prison, but with our family connections they wouldn’t dare do that.” As far as I know there was never any question of Matty being charged with murder!’
Peter smirked. ‘Even if they had sent her to prison, I dare say she would have even used her time in there constructively. She was never one to waste an opportunity.’
‘Do you think she was serious about going back to England?’ Tabitha asked, suddenly remembering not only the list of clothes but the remark she’d made earlier in the evening about returning home.
‘Who can say?’ Peter shrugged. ‘She did tell me once she intended to go back when Queen Victoria died, just to watch the funeral. I said that was morbid, but she just laughed and said she was still common enough to enjoy a good lavish funeral.’
‘Well, that old lady’s still alive.’ Tabitha smiled. ‘Sometimes I think she’ll outlive me! I wish I knew the secrets of her diet, I might be able to keep some of my patients going a little longer.’
Peter lapsed into thoughtful silence for a moment. He was remembering his time in hospital and how Matty had returned to the ward later that day after James died, and carried on nursing the wounded almost as if nothing had happened. Even when she told him James had died, she offered him comfort, regardless of the fact that she needed it far more. She was tough outwardly, but both Peter and Tabitha knew how soft she was inside. All those years she cared for Sidney, never complaining, never even considering putting him into an asylum when he became incontinent, just shouldering it all with a smile. He reminded himself to find that six cents Sidney had given her all those years ago. She’d want them in her coffin with her, just as she’d want Amelia’s rag-doll, the quilt she made with Lily, and the picture of James.
‘You know how she always used to say “Never look back”,’ he said eventually. ‘Well, it seems to me she stuck with that right to the end. I guess that list was her intention to have one
last adventure. It’s rather comforting to think she slipped away planning it.’
Tabitha sighed deeply. ‘For all those years here in America, she was still so very English, wasn’t she? The emotions kept in check, that indomitable pride and courage.’
‘We must go there later this year, for her,’ Peter said. ‘See all the places she used to tell us about, the palace, the Thames, and the Tower of London.’
Tabitha began to smile, a sparkle coming back into her eyes. ‘I saw some of them when I went to England before, but it will be so much better with you, Peter. We’ll go to the top of Primrose Hill and take a boat down the river to where her father and Dolly lived. Maybe we could even go to one of the newspapers and tell them her story. Wouldn’t she just love that?’
Peter caught hold of Tabitha’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Do you know, I can almost hear her laughing.’
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Never Look Back
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
Never Look Back Page 87
