An Orphan's Journey

by Rosie Goodwin

  Susan shook her head. ‘Poor sod, what d’yer fink is wrong wiv ’er?’

  Pearl shook her head. ‘I have no idea. Neither does the doctor if it comes to that, but she seems to be getting worse every day. The smell in her room is appalling and her mind seems to be going too. It’s a mystery.’ But then she smiled again and changed the subject when she told Susan, ‘This is the first time I’ve ventured out since we got back. The weather hasn’t allowed me to but hopefully we should be able to start meeting on Sunday afternoons again soon. But now tell me about you; how are you?’

  For the first time she noticed how pale Susan looked, and was that a bruise on her cheek?

  Susan looked fearfully across her shoulder then lowering her voice she confided, ‘No better at all ’ere, I’m sorry to say. I got this’ – she patted the bruise on her cheek – ‘when the randy old devil come down a few nights ago when his missus were asleep. He thought ’e were goin’ to ’ave ’is way wiv me but ’e soon left wi’ a flea in his ear an’ a good swift kick up the arse!’ She bit her lip then. ‘Trouble is, I don’t know ’ow much longer I can fight ’im off! I’ve asked Miss Walker to find another position fer me soon as she can.’ Seeing the worried look on Pearl’s face she forced a smile again and hurried on, ‘But don’t you get frettin’ about it. I’ll be fine.’

  At that moment, the baker appeared in the doorway and after glaring at her he barked, ‘Why ain’t you set the rest o’ them loaves out yet? I don’t pay you to stand about chattin’, you know!’

  ‘Keep yer ’at on! I’ve nearly finished, ain’t I?’ Susan answered rebelliously as she hurried back to the large basket and began to slam the loaves on the counter.

  Taking this as her cue to leave, Pearl turned to the door. ‘If the weather is a bit better, I’ll meet you on Sunday afternoon,’ she promised and hurriedly left the shop.

  Soon after, Will returned with the carriage and all the way home Pearl was quiet as she worried about Susan. However, the second they set foot through the door Cook rushed to meet them, wringing her hands and looking flustered.

  ‘Pearl, you’d best run out and ask Will to fetch the doctor before he puts the horses away,’ she told her with a hint of panic in her voice.

  ‘Why, what’s wrong?’ Mrs Forbes asked.

  ‘It’s Mrs Veasey. Freda just took her a drink up and came down to say she’s taken a turn for the worse. I went up to check and the poor soul is in a right state.’

  Pearl rushed outside again to find Will while Mrs Forbes lifted her skirts and shot away up the stairs. Sure enough, she could see at a glance that Mrs Veasey was desperately ill, and tears came to her eyes as she dropped on to the side of her bed and took her hand in hers.

  ‘Oh, my dear Florence,’ she muttered brokenly as she stared into the woman’s feverish face. ‘Please don’t leave me. It was you who got me through when we lost Elizabeth and over the years, I have come to regard you more as a friend than a housekeeper.’

  But Florence Veasey seemed to be beyond hearing as her head rolled from side to side on the pillow and she gasped for breath. She was ghastly pale and her eyes were feverishly bright. For the first time Mrs Forbes also noticed that small warts and lesions had erupted on her skin and the smell of loose faeces was so overpowering that she almost vomited.

  It was nearly an hour later by the time the doctor could get there, and by then Pearl and Mrs Forbes had washed the poor soul and changed her nightclothes and bedding yet again, not that it had seemed to help the smell in the room much. They both hurried out on to the landing, leaving the doctor to examine her.

  It was some time before he joined them to tell them, ‘I’m afraid there is nothing more I can do. It appears that her organs are slowly shutting down. I believe it is just a matter of time now. All you can do is sit with her and comfort her as best you can. I’m so sorry.’

  Mrs Forbes dabbed at her streaming eyes with a white lace handkerchief, hardly able to believe what he was saying. But then, straightening her back, she called on every reserve of courage she had and said calmly, ‘Thank you, doctor. Rest assured, we shall do all we can for her.’

  And for the rest of the day that is exactly what she did. She sat tenderly mopping her friend’s fevered brow with a cool flannel and dribbling water on to her dry lips as she talked soothingly to her, refusing to even go down for her evening meal. Then, as the staff were sitting down to their dinner in the kitchen, Florence Veasey gave a big sigh and quietly passed away.

  Emmaline Forbes wished that she had encouraged the dear woman to return to England when she had first suggested it. But it was too late for regrets now, for who knew if she might not have become ill wherever she was.

  She was buried in the small churchyard close to the grave of Mrs Forbes’s little daughter with only a simple holly wreath to mark the spot, for it was too cold as yet for fresh flowers to grow there. The whole household mourned her passing, apart from Freda, who had never made a secret of the fact that she despised the woman.

  Once the funeral was over, Pearl was busier than ever because as well as her duties as lady’s maid she now had to take on the running of the household, answering the door to visitors, serving tea to the family and all the other jobs that Mrs Veasey had done.

  By mid-April the long hours were taking their toll on her and Mrs Forbes began to worry. ‘I think you are doing too much,’ she told her one afternoon. ‘I’ve been thinking of taking on a parlour maid to take some of the weight off your shoulders.’

  For the first time in days, Pearl really smiled. ‘In that case, ma’am, I think I know just the person!’

  ‘Excellent, then you must bring her to meet me,’ Mrs Forbes said and Pearl could hardly wait to pass on the good news to Susan.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  June 1879

  P

  earl entered the drawing room and grinned to herself when she saw Mrs Forbes standing at the open window staring towards the town. Her mistress had been like a cat on hot bricks ever since news of the ship’s arrival had reached them the day before because she was hoping for some letters from her son. Pearl was now sixteen years old and had the house running like clockwork. It hadn’t always been that way, for following Mrs Veasey’s death she had discovered she had a lot to learn. But patience and determination had paid off and now, could she have known it, Mrs Forbes held her in high regard.

  Turning towards her, the woman smiled. ‘Ah, Pearl, did you want to discuss the menus?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, if you can spare the time.’

  They sat down together and slowly went through each day’s meals until Pearl was satisfied that she knew exactly what supplies she would need to order. As she neatly wrote a list, she was unaware that her mistress was observing her with a smile on her face. Pearl was still not overly tall but over the last few years her figure had developed into that of a young woman’s and that, added to the beautiful blonde hair that she now wore in a smart plait on the back of her head and her striking green eyes, made her very attractive indeed – although she seemed to be totally unaware of the fact.

  From the first day she had arrived there following her interview with Mrs Forbes, Susan had also been an asset to the household and Mrs Forbes considered herself to be fortunate to have such a devoted staff. Within days of taking up her new role, Pearl had allocated Freda and Eliza their own specific jobs to do. Freda was now in charge of cleaning the house and lighting the fires each morning while Eliza helped Cook with whatever needed doing in the kitchen. Cook had been none too pleased with the decision initially because she made no secret of the fact that she favoured Freda, but even she had to admit that giving the girls their own separate duties made for a more peaceful kitchen, so in time she had accepted it.

  Susan too had grown in all ways and now that she wasn’t constantly having to look over her shoulder to make sure that the baker wasn’t behind her, her confidence had grown. But the same couldn’t be said for Eliza, who never seemed to smile or show much of an i
nterest in anything, despite Pearl’s best attempts to please her. She was now fifteen years old and whereas Pearl was attractive, Eliza was truly stunning. Already on the rare occasions when Pearl managed to tempt her into town, the young men flocked around her like bees to a honeypot, but to Pearl’s relief she never showed any interest in any of them. The only boy she had ever seemed to like was Nick, but he had been away for most of the last two years now and Pearl still found that she missed him. After being taken on at the master’s shipyard, his interest had progressed from building the boats to sailing in them and he had been off on numerous adventures, sailing the high seas and visiting many parts of the world. Nick posted letters to them occasionally, which Pearl would read and reread until they almost fell apart.

  Now, happy that she had all she needed from her mistress, Pearl rose to leave the room, just as there was a knock on the front door.

  The mistress was instantly all of aflutter as she said excitedly, ‘Oh, I bet that’s the postman. Would you answer it, Pearl?’

  ‘Of course.’ Pearl hurried away and returned minutes later with a happy smile on her face as she handed a letter to Mrs Forbes. She knew that the dear lady had been hoping for a few letters from her son, but as Pearl was learning she was usually lucky to get even one. Monty certainly wasn’t the best at letter writing, as his mother had discovered within months of him going to school.

  Mrs Forbes sank on to the velvet sofa to read it and Pearl crept away to leave her in peace to enjoy it.

  ‘I have the menus for next week,’ Pearl informed Cook. ‘And I’ve written the order out but is there anything else you need?’

  ‘Give it here and let’s have a look, pet,’ Cook answered, dusting flour from her hands and taking a pair of steel-framed spectacles from her seemingly bottomless apron pocket. She had just perched them on the end of her nose when the kitchen door leading to the hall suddenly flew open and the mistress appeared, waving her letter.

  ‘It’s Monty . . . he’s coming home next month,’ she told them breathlessly. She was delighted at the prospect but she wasn’t so sure his father would be. She knew Zack had wanted him to continue his education for another year but then she was sure she could convince him that this would be for the best. Perhaps he could start to train Monty to help with the businesses now that he was older?

  Cook raised her eyebrow as she glanced at Pearl. Neither of them had very fond memories of the young man, but they didn’t want to spoil the mistress’s pleasure. Even now she still had dark days when she grieved for her daughter, and having her son home might be just the thing to finally perk her up again. And anyway, he’d been away a long time, so hopefully he would have grown up.

  ‘Then perhaps we should plan a little party as a homecoming for him?’ Cook suggested.

  Mrs Forbes eyes gleamed as she nodded. ‘Oh, what a wonderful idea, Cook. Yes, I think that would be lovely. I shall start to make a list of people to invite straight away.’ Then as something occurred to her, she frowned. ‘It’s strange that my parents didn’t inform us of his intentions though, isn’t it? I have at least one letter a month from them and they didn’t mention a thing in the last one, although he stays with them most weekends . . . Oh well, perhaps he’s only just decided,’ she ended with a grin and turning about she tripped away.

  ‘That’s a turn-up for the books,’ Cook said wryly as the door closed behind Mrs Forbes. ‘Let’s hope that he comes back a better person than when he went away, eh?’

  Pearl wasn’t so sure that would be the case. ‘Between you and me, I’m dreading Monty coming home,’ she admitted to Eliza as they got ready for bed that evening. But Eliza merely shrugged. Pearl wasn’t surprised; Eliza didn’t really show much interest in anyone, so she doubted whether she’d care if he came home or not.

  The following Sunday afternoon, Pearl and Susan ventured out to walk by the river as they did most weekends.

  ‘So, tell me about Monty?’ Susan said as they strolled along. ‘I know you were never keen on ’im when yer first came ’ere.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t. He was horrible to me when I went to stay in London at his grandparents’ home that year,’ Pearl confided.

  ‘Ah, but he’s a lot older now so ’e’s probably calmed down,’ Susan pointed out optimistically.

  Pearl could only hope she was right – but suddenly all thoughts of Monty fled as she looked up and saw a tall figure striding along the banks of the river towards them. There was something vaguely familiar about him and as he grew closer Pearl exclaimed, ‘Isn’t that Nick?’

  Susan followed her gaze and grinned. ‘Well, whoever it is they’ve certainly got Nick’s walk, but if it is ’im ’e ain’t ’alf grown.’

  They stopped and as the figure drew closer, they both gave a cry of delight and ran to meet him.

  ‘Nick . . . I thought it was you.’ Pearl was the first to reach him and, laughing, he swung her up and about as if she weighed no more than a baby, before doing the same to Susan.

  ‘Crikey, you’ve grown some,’ Susan chuckled, for he seemed to be at least a head taller than she remembered him.

  ‘I should hope I have,’ he laughed back. ‘And you two have changed as well. You were little girls the last time I saw you but I come back to find that you’re both young women now.’

  Pearl felt herself blush as she studied him. She remembered him as a lanky youth, thin as a rake and all gangly arms and legs, but what a change two years had wrought. He towered over both her and Susan and he had filled out. She could discern his muscly arms through the sleeves of his coat and he sported a beard that was the same dark colour as his hair, which was curling on his collar.

  Seeing that Pearl was staring at him, he self-consciously stroked the growth on his chin. ‘Excuse this. We only docked early this morning and we’ve been busy unloading the ship ever since. Hopefully I’ll have time to get to the barber’s tomorrow.’

  ‘I-it suits you,’ Pearl muttered, wondering why she suddenly felt shy in his presence. She never had before. But back then he had been just a boy; now he had returned as a very attractive young man and it was as if she was meeting him for the first time.

  ‘So how do yer like a life on the ocean waves?’ Susan laughed. ‘Have yer got to visit lots o’ nice places?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, although we don’t often get to see much of them. We usually get where we’re going, unload, load back up again and then we’re off once more. I’ve been to Australia, Africa, New Zealand – all over the place really.’

  ‘Ooh, it must be luvvly to see the world.’ Susan sighed enviously and he laughed. Susan was taller but still stick thin, whereas Pearl had curves in all the right places now. And her eyes were still the lovely sea green he remembered.

  They spent the next half an hour chatting pleasantly until Susan asked, ‘So where are yer off to next and when?’

  ‘We’ll be taking a ship full of timber back to England next. It’s being loaded even as we speak and I think we’re set to sail the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘So soon?’ Susan said mournfully as Pearl blushed again. ‘And when will you be back next time?’

  He shrugged. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. It all depends on what’s waiting to be transported when we get back to England. They just tell us where it’s going to go and we do as we’re told.’

  ‘But don’t you get fed up of never ’aving any time at ’ome!’

  ‘Home?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘But I don’t have a home, do I? We were sent here on the orphan ship but I never really considered it to be my home.’

  ‘But yer could make it yer ’ome,’ Susan pointed out.

  He shook his head, ‘No, I reckon if I ever leave the sea, I’ll make my home somewhere back in England. But what about you two? Are you settled here now? Can you see yourselves staying here?’

  ‘I never really fought about it,’ Susan admitted. ‘Wharrabout you, Pearl?’

  Pearl sighed. ‘I suppose I’ve always thought I’d go back to England too eventu
ally,’ she told them. ‘I think it’s because my sister is still there somewhere, though I doubt I’ll ever find her. Our neighbour told me that she was working somewhere in the Midlands but that’s a big place, and that was years ago now. She could be in Birmingham, Coventry . . . anywhere really. Young Gracie Hewitt who used to live in our alley got her a position with her somewhere apparently.’

  ‘So why don’t you give me the address of this neighbour of yours and if ever I’m in London I’ll go and see her and try to find out a bit more for you?’ Nick suggested. ‘If I had any luck, I could write to you and let you know where she is.’

  ‘Oh, that would be lovely if you could,’ Pearl said gleefully as hope surged through her. ‘I’ve got to come into town in the morning to get a few things for Mrs Forbes, so I could write it down for you and give it to you then?’ she told him breathlessly.

  Later as she and Susan made their way home, Pearl had a wide smile on her face and wasn’t sure whether it was the prospect of Nick finding her sister for her, or pleasure at seeing him.

  ‘It were nice to see Nick again, weren’t it?’ Susan said innocently as she peeped at Pearl’s glowing face from the corner of her eye. ‘An’ ’e’s turned out to be a bit of a looker, ain’t ’e?’

  ‘Has he? I hadn’t really noticed,’ Pearl responded, but Susan had her own thoughts regarding that. She had seen the way Nick could hardly take his eyes off Pearl and the way Pearl had blushed prettily every time she so much as looked at him, but she didn’t comment. It was just nice to see her friend looking so happy.

  The following morning when Mrs Forbes had written down the list of things she wanted Pearl to get for her in the town, Pearl put her bonnet and cape on and popped into the kitchen to ask, ‘Is there anything you need Cook, while I’m in the town?’

  Susan grinned as she glanced at her friend’s smiling face. ‘Someone’s lookin’ ’appy today,’ she said. ‘An’ I must say yer lookin’ very nice.’