An Orphan's Journey

by Rosie Goodwin

  ‘Don’t you think I know that!’ Her eyes were full of tears now.

  Mr Forbes felt wicked but it had needed to be said. ‘I suggest that we go to London alone,’ he said a little more gently. ‘I can understand why you took Lizzie under your wing. She was ill when she first arrived and you were concerned about her, but she is completely recovered now, so if we left her here it might be a good time to let Mrs Veasey train her to help about the house?’

  ‘No!’ Emmaline’s eyes were blazing. ‘I’ve become fond of her and she is like a little companion to me when you are working. It would be just too cruel to suddenly demote her to being a servant again.’

  ‘But her sister is,’ he pointed out.

  Emmaline shrugged. ‘Since coming here Pearl has known nothing else and she seems to be perfectly happy with the arrangement, so why should the way I treat Lizzie trouble you? And anyway, you don’t understand; when I’m with Lizzie I don’t think so much about . . . about . . .’

  For a moment her husband’s chin sank to his chest but then he sighed deeply, and as he looked up at her again, Emmaline saw the raw pain in his eyes. ‘It troubles me because . . . because I think you are trying to replace Elizabeth.’

  ‘Of course I’m not,’ she snapped with a toss of her head. And then in a softer tone she told him, ‘I really don’t want to be here without Monty and Elizabeth at Christmas. Please try to understand. Having Lizzie to fuss over keeps my mind off . . .’ Tears were coursing down her cheeks and as always he felt himself weakening. He hated to see her so unhappy and he had to admit that she had perked up considerably since Lizzie had arrived.

  ‘Very well, if it means so much to you then the girls may come,’ he said resignedly and she smiled through her tears as she hurried away to put the finishing touches to the packing, leaving him with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he wondered where it was all going to end.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ‘Y

  ou’re to be my maid on the journey,’ Eliza told her sister imperiously the next morning as they waited in the hallway for Mr and Mrs Forbes to join them. Will had already made two journeys down to the docks with all their luggage and when he returned, he would be taking them to board the ship.

  ‘How can I be your maid when I’m your sister?’ Pearl snapped, although looking at how Eliza was dressed, anyone could have believed that she really was her maid. Eliza was wearing a beautiful red coat and bonnet trimmed with black braid, and her blonde hair was in ringlets, while Pearl was wearing her plain black cape and a staid grey dress. Not that she wasn’t grateful for them – they were the best she had ever owned – but they weren’t in the same league as the clothes Eliza was wearing.

  ‘When we get to London, Mrs Forbes says she’s gonna take me to buy me some more new clothes,’ Eliza informed her as she preened in the hall mirror, and Pearl couldn’t help but smile.

  For the first time in her life Eliza was being spoiled. Could she really begrudge her that? After all, it was common knowledge that Eliza was a quiet, timid little thing, so she probably didn’t mean to hurt her when she put on airs and graces.

  ‘That’ll be nice,’ Pearl said as Mrs Forbes appeared wearing a rather splendid travelling gown in green velvet with a matching hat trimmed with feathers.

  Mrs Veasey, Cook and Freda had come into the hallway to see them off and as Mrs Forbes pulled on her soft kid gloves, her husband placed a thick fur cape about her slim shoulders.

  ‘I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and we’ll be back as soon in February as we can,’ she promised them. ‘Oh, and there’s a little gift for each of you to open on Christmas Day.’

  ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ her staff chorused.

  At that moment Will drew the carriage to a halt outside and Mr Forbes ushered them all towards the door. They were already slightly late but seeing as he was the owner of the ship they were to sail on, he knew there was no fear of the captain going without them. It was snowing heavily as they raced from the door and climbed into the carriage, and the minute they were inside Mr Forbes tucked a thick woollen travelling rug across his wife’s legs and they were off, waving from the carriage window as the horses trotted down the drive.

  As they were driving through the town, Pearl glanced towards the bakery, hoping for a sign of Susan, but she was nowhere to be seen. Sadly their departure had been so rushed that she hadn’t had time to tell her they were going away but at least she had asked Will to let her know and Susan would then tell Nick if she saw him.

  ‘I don’t feel so good, Pearl,’ Eliza whimpered as she lay on her little bed in the ship’s cabin. They had only been at sea for a few hours but already she had turned an alarming shade of grey. It wasn’t surprising really; the sea was choppy and even inside it was so cold that their breath was floating like lace on the air around them.

  Pearl hastily fetched a bucket and a damp cloth to cool Eliza’s forehead and thankfully after a time she fell into an uneasy doze. Shortly after Mr Forbes knocked on the door to tell her that his wife was very unwell too and poor Pearl had to do the same for Mrs Forbes.

  Some holiday this is turning out to be, Pearl thought with a wry grin as she mopped her mistress’s forehead. But at least she herself felt reasonably well, which she supposed was something to be grateful for. She dreaded to think what would have happened if she had been seasick too.

  It was not a good passage; both Eliza and Mrs Forbes had been ill for the whole of the journey and despite Pearl’s best efforts, both of their cabins smelled of stale vomit. So one day when Mr Forbes came to tell Pearl that they were almost in London, she sighed with relief.

  They finally docked two days before Christmas Eve and Pearl hastily packed the trunks. Both Eliza and her mistress had worn few clothes because they had spent the majority of the time confined to bed, and now they both looked thin, pale and ill.

  ‘I shall get a cab to take us straight to my mother-in-law’s house and arrange for the luggage to follow on,’ Mr Forbes told Pearl, when she went to inform him that they were all ready to disembark. He was desperately concerned about his wife, but hoped that once she set foot on dry land again, she might start to recover. Hopefully seeing her son would act as a tonic too.

  It was late afternoon and already dark when he led them down the gangplank, but even so, Pearl had a sense of coming home and was not sorry to be back in London. Within minutes they were settled in a cab and as the horse set off at a trot she stared out at the familiar streets. The main streets were busy with smartly dressed people doing their last-minute Christmas shopping, and the lights from the gaily decorated shop windows spilled out on to the pavements.

  ‘Ooh, everywhere looks so pretty, don’t it?’ Eliza whispered. She was already regaining a little colour in her cheeks and was clearly beginning to feel better.

  Mrs Forbes smiled at her indulgently, ‘You mean, doesn’t it?’ she corrected the child, but Eliza was too busy watching from the window to take much notice.

  At last they pulled up outside a smart town house that was three storeys high and looked very grand. It was in a part of London that Pearl had never visited before. Mr Forbes helped them down on to the pavement and paid the cabbie.

  ‘Here we are then.’ He smiled. ‘I don’t mind betting it will be a surprise for them to see us. Our letter telling them we were coming probably won’t have got here yet.’

  They climbed three steep steps to a large door, on either side of which stood two topiary trees in glazed pots. Mr Forbes rang the bell and when a maid opened the door she beamed and exclaimed delightedly, ‘Why, Miss Emmaline . . . Sorry, I mean, Mrs Forbes. We weren’t expecting you. The family will be so thrilled to see you. Come in out of the cold.’

  ‘Thank you, Millie.’ Mrs Forbes clearly knew the woman well and she gave her a warm smile. ‘Would you tell my parents that we are here please?’ she asked as she unbuttoned her coat.

  But there was no need to, for at that moment a door leading off the spacious hall op
ened and a smart woman, who looked like an older version of Emmaline, appeared. Her face lit up as she hurried forwards to hug her and she gasped, ‘Why ever didn’t you tell us that you were coming, darling?’ Before her daughter could reply, she rushed on, ‘But never mind. It will take the maids no time at all to get your room ready for you. What a wonderful surprise.’ It was then that her eyes came to rest on Eliza and Pearl who were standing quietly, and raising an eyebrow she asked, ‘But who are these girls, dear?’ As her eyes lingered on Eliza, she frowned.

  ‘Oh, sorry, Mother, I should have introduced you.’ With a smile Emmaline took Eliza’s hand and drew her forwards.

  ‘This is Lizzie, I’ve been . . . looking after her. And this is Pearl, her sister, who is our maid.’

  The woman sucked in a shocked breath but managed to plaster a smile on her face. ‘Then you must go with Millie, girls. I’m sure our cook will find you a nice hot drink and something to eat.’

  ‘But, Mother, you don’t understand . . .’

  Emmaline made as if to take Eliza’s hand again – but her mother hastily grabbed her elbow and bore her towards the room she had just come from, saying to the maid, ‘Once you have the girls settled would you bring a tray of tea through, please, Millie? And tell Cook there will be an extra two for dinner.’

  ‘But Lizzie isn’t a maid and she always eats with Zack and me . . .’ Pearl heard her mistress protest, as her mother bundled her ahead of her before closing the door firmly behind her.

  Eliza looked quite put out and pouted, but Pearl nudged her ahead of her as they followed the maid to the kitchen.

  As Emmaline and Zack entered the drawing room their son, who was sitting in a wing chair by the fire, looked up.

  ‘Oh, Monty, darling, I’ve missed you so much,’ Emmaline cried as she raced across to him and threw her arms around him.

  Looking embarrassed he squirmed out of her grasp. ‘Mother . . . I didn’t expect to see you this holiday.’

  ‘I know but as Christmas grew closer, I couldn’t bear the thought of us spending it apart,’ his mother told him with tears in her eyes.

  Monty glanced towards his father, who hadn’t given him the same rapturous welcome, and they nodded stiffly to one another.

  Plonking herself on the arm of his chair his mother asked excitedly, ‘So, how is school, darling? You must tell me all about it.’

  He shrugged as colour rose in his cheeks. What was he supposed to say? That he had been bullied and picked on because he was the new boy? That he was made to clear up the older boys’ mess and teased mercilessly. ‘It’s all right, I suppose,’ he mumbled.

  His mother instantly looked concerned. ‘Are you quite sure? You don’t seem too enthusiastic about it.’

  ‘He’s not properly settled in yet. He’ll be fine,’ her mother told her firmly as Millie wheeled in a tea tray loaded with tiny pastries and cakes and a bone-china tea service.

  She began to pour the tea into the dainty cups, and Monty stared at his father resentfully. It had been agreed before he left Canada that he should spend any school holidays with his grandparents in London because it was too far to travel home each time, but even that small respite from the chaps at school had its drawbacks. He had always been able to wrap his mother around his little finger but his grandmother was a different kettle of fish entirely. Back at home he had free rein to do as he wished, so long as he spent a few hours each day with his tutor, but Laura Kennedy-Scott always wanted to know where he was and who he was with, and even though he was on holiday she insisted that a certain amount of time each day should be spent on homework, so all in all staying with her wasn’t much better than being at school. His grandfather was no better and sometimes he wondered how he would bear it.

  But still, he consoled himself, in a few short years’ time he could leave school and please himself what he did. He knew he was a huge disappointment to his father who had always hoped that he would show an interest in the many businesses he owned, but that had never appealed to Monty. He wanted to see the world and have freedom to come and go as he pleased. And why shouldn’t I? he asked himself. His parents and his grandparents were wealthy, so the way he saw it they should be happy to finance him.

  He took the cup and saucer his grandmother offered and sank back into his chair, wishing that he could become invisible.

  His grandmother turned her attention back to her daughter. ‘You look dreadfully pale, darling,’ she commented, sipping daintily at her tea. ‘Was it a bad journey?’

  ‘Dreadful,’ Emmaline admitted, although she was feeling better already now that she had seen Monty.

  ‘And how long will you be staying?’

  It was Zack who hastily told her, ‘Only until shortly after Christmas, I’m afraid. I have rather a lot of work on at present but Emmaline was so set on coming. I didn’t like to disappoint her.’

  His mother-in-law nodded. She knew what a hard-working man her son-in-law was. She also knew that he could rarely deny her daughter anything, which was to his credit. The year before, following the death of her granddaughter, she had spent some months in Canada with them to help care for her daughter. She had feared for her sanity at one point but was pleased to see that she did seem to be a lot better now.

  ‘And now tell me, who are the two girls you brought with you?’ she questioned. It had given her quite a turn when she had first set eyes on Eliza. She was remarkably like Elizabeth and she hoped that Emmaline wasn’t trying to replace her late daughter with this girl. If that was the case then she considered it to be extremely unhealthy; she didn’t want her daughter to slip back into the dark place she had been in.

  ‘They came over some time ago on an orphan ship from London.’ Emmaline smiled. ‘I took them both on as maids as one of ours had had to leave because . . .’ She flushed as she glanced at Monty who instantly looked guarded. ‘Anyway,’ she rushed on. ‘I took the two of them because they were sisters. It seemed cruel to split them up, but Lizzie . . . well, her name is actually Eliza, was ill and so I took her under my wing until she was better, and she’s turned out to be a great comfort to me.’

  ‘But the other one still works as a maid?’ Her mother glanced at Zack, who lowered his eyes, and she knew instantly that he was no happier with the strange situation than she was.

  ‘Well . . . yes, Pearl does,’ Emmaline admitted, as she saw Monty frown. She had always suspected that he was jealous of Eliza, just as he had been jealous of his little sister when she was alive. Thoughts of Elizabeth brought a lump to her throat and rising hastily she said, ‘I think I’ll go upstairs and freshen up now, Mother, if you don’t mind. I’d like to change for dinner before Father gets home.’

  ‘Of course.’ Her mother smiled and once she had left the room, she gave her son-in-law a meaningful look. ‘I think you and I should have a little chat later on, dear.’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, I think we should.’

  And excusing himself, he followed his wife upstairs.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I

  n the kitchen, all was hustle and bustle as the cook and the kitchen maid put the finishing touches to the family’s evening meal. Maids hurried in and out as they rushed to prepare a room for their guests and set the extra places at the dining room table.

  ‘It’s a good job I put a large joint o’ beef in to roast,’ the rosy-cheeked cook grumbled. ‘I just wish people would let us know when they were comin’ instead o’ just turnin’ up out o’ the blue. Although I must admit, I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ the young mistress again. Poor soul. What she had to go through last year when she lost poor little Miss Elizabeth don’t bear thinkin’ about.’

  Eliza was still sulking because she hadn’t been allowed to join the family in the drawing room and was holding on to Pearl’s hand for dear life, feeling totally out of her depth. Pearl was sorry that her sister was feeling sad, although it was nice to have her to herself for a while again. Cook was wondering why these two girls, who had been introduc
ed to her as sisters, were dressed so differently. The younger one was dressed exactly as she would have expected Miss Elizabeth to be, had the dear little soul still been alive, and while the older one clearly took pride in her clothing, she was dressed as a maid. As yet she hadn’t had time to question them, but she planned to just as soon as dinner was over.

  ‘Will I be goin’ in to dinner wi’ Mrs Forbes?’ Eliza whispered, forgetting all the grammar lessons Mrs Forbes had taught her in her nervousness. Unlike Pearl, she didn’t like being back in London one bit and was afraid they might somehow end up back in the workhouse again.

  Before Pearl could answer, Cook shook her head. ‘No, you’ll be eatin’ in here with the rest of the staff,’ she informed her. ‘Only the family eat in the dinin’ room. But don’t worry, you’ll not starve. I’ve made us all a lovely steak an’ kidney pie.’

  Eliza scowled in confusion. Back in Canada Mrs Forbes had made her feel as if she was part of her family, but now she didn’t know what her role was again.

  Pearl gave her sister’s hand an encouraging squeeze. They were both worn out after the long journey and all she really wanted to do was sleep in a proper bed without being tossed about like a cork in a bottle by the high waves.

  Eventually Millie and another maid carried the family’s meal through to the dining room and when all the courses had been served and the mountain of dirty dishes had been cleared away, the staff finally sat down at the enormous scrubbed oak table to eat. There were so many of them that Pearl knew it would take a while before she remembered all their names as they introduced themselves. There was Millie who had admitted them, who told them that she was the parlour maid. There was Cook and Rachel, the kitchen maid, who seemed to spend half her life at the sink washing pots from what Pearl could see. Then there was Miss Sophie Thomas, who was the mistress’s lady’s maid and Mrs Brookes the housekeeper. Esther, a scrawny little girl who was no further through than a matchstick, was the scullery maid; and Bridget, a plump Irish girl with a broad accent, was the laundry maid. The male staff were Jimmy, who was the groom, and Bert, the gardener. Pearl wondered why a house where only two people normally lived could possibly need so many staff.