An Orphan's Journey

by Rosie Goodwin

  Pearl swallowed and, leaning to one side, she was heartily sick, as Eliza’s wailing echoed around the yard. Pearl had never seen anything so gruesome in her whole life and prayed that she never would again as Cook appeared to drag Eliza back into the kitchen. Then, taking control of the situation, she snatched the cloth from the table and rushed back outside again to throw it across the corpse.

  ‘W-we should try to get him inside,’ Pearl suggested in a wobbly voice.

  Cook shook her head. ‘There’s nowt we can do for him now, lass. We’d best leave that to the men.’ She set about filling the kettle. From the poor mistress’s screams that were still issuing along the hallway it was clear that she was in need of a good strong cup of sweet tea, not that Cook held out much hope of that calming her. The doctor would have to give her something stronger. Cook shook her head as she choked back tears. Poor soul, first she had lost sweet little Miss Elizabeth and now her son. How would she survive this latest tragedy? she wondered.

  Eliza was sitting at the table with her head on her arm sobbing broken-heartedly, but when Pearl went to comfort her, she rounded on her like a wild animal. ‘Don’t you dare touch me! This is all your fault.’

  ‘B-but . . .’

  Eliza rose so suddenly that the chair she’d been sitting on crashed to the floor, and without another word she fled with tears pouring down her cheeks.

  ‘Let her go, pet,’ Cook advised as Pearl made to follow her and she obediently sank down on to the settle at the side of the fire.

  Susan made a large pot of tea and was just pouring it when Will and the doctor appeared and rushed straight out to the yard.

  ‘As you thought, he is dead,’ the doctor said gravely, feeling quite queasy himself. ‘And I would think he’s been there for most of the night. It looks suspiciously like someone hit him on the back of the head and possibly knocked him out, but until I examine him properly it’s hard to say now that the wolves have . . .’ As his voice trailed away, they all shuddered. ‘Anyway, I think the best thing we can do is to inform the police and then I’ll do a proper examination at the undertaker’s. I shall recommend a closed coffin if the mistress wants him to come home before the funeral. He isn’t a pretty sight, I’m afraid.’

  Will’s chin sank to his chest as he shook his head. ‘Like most places around here I’ve been having problems with the wolves and rats in the stables for some time, but I really didn’t hear anything last night. If only I had I might have been able to . . .’

  ‘You mustn’t blame yourself, Will,’ the doctor told him kindly, as he gratefully took the tea Susan offered. He was used to seeing death – it was a natural progression of life – but he had never before seen anything as horrendous as the face he had just seen, or what was left of it.

  ‘I don’t suppose you have a drop of something stronger to top this up, do you?’ he asked Cook.

  She nodded and fetched a bottle of brandy from the cupboard on the dresser and sloshed a generous measure into his cup, before doing the same for her own. She had never seen the doctor touch a drink in all the years she had known him, but then these were extenuating circumstances.

  ‘Ah, that’s better,’ Dr Lark said when he had drained his cup. ‘I’ll just go through to your master and mistress and give them something to calm them down, poor devils. And don’t worry, after what Will told me I guessed there would be nothing I could do and I asked the undertaker to bring his hearse before I came. He should be here any minute now. In the meantime, I would advise you all to stay indoors until the body has been removed.’

  Pearl was only too happy to do as she was told, and as the doctor went to tend to Mr and Mrs Forbes, she hurried up the steep, narrow staircase to check on Eliza. There was no sign of her upstairs and Pearl bit her lip, wondering what she should do. Her first instinct was to put her cape on and go and search for her but she decided against it. Eliza clearly wanted to be alone and she would respect her wishes, unless she was away for too long, that was.

  Soon after, the undertaker and his assistant arrived with the hearse, and the black stallion that pulled it stood patiently as they loaded Monty’s body on to the back and pulled away. Mrs Forbes’s screams and sobs were still echoing through the house and everything began to take on an air of unreality as they all sat about in the kitchen. There would clearly be no breakfast needed this morning.

  ‘I bet you any money it was one of the chaps he owed money to who did for him,’ Cook said shakily, as she sipped at yet another cup of tea liberally laced with brandy; she felt in need of it. She had known for some long time that the young master was a nasty piece of work, but even so she had known him all his life and it was hard to believe that he was dead. ‘But fancy leaving him lying there like that for the wolves to—’ She gulped and took another swallow of her drink as Pearl glanced worriedly towards the door, praying for Eliza to come home.

  ‘Do you think they’ll involve the police?’ Susan piped up.

  Cook nodded. ‘Oh yes, no doubt about it. I just hope that all those he owed money to have got good alibis else it might be a case of God help them. We haven’t had a hanging here for a long time but . . .’

  They stopped talking as Mrs Forbes’s screams ceased abruptly and seconds later Dr Lark appeared in the doorway again.

  ‘I’ve given Mrs Forbes a very strong sedative,’ he told them gravely. ‘But her state of mind is very fragile so it might be as well if she isn’t left on her own for the next few days. I shall call in again this evening after surgery but should you need me before then please send Will for me and I will come immediately. Good day, ladies.’

  They inclined their heads and looked at each other. With their routine completely disrupted, they had no idea what they should do.

  It was Pearl who eventually broke the silence. ‘I’m going to get some clean dry clothes for the mistress and see if I can change her; she was soaked through when she came in and the last thing we need is for her to be ill too,’ she told them. ‘Could you bring a bowl of warm water and a towel into the drawing room for me please, Sally?’

  Sally nodded and hurried to the sink, as Pearl headed for the drawing room. She found Mrs Forbes lying on the settee in a semi-conscious state and her husband sitting in the chair opposite with his elbows on his knees and his head sunk in his hands.

  ‘I, er . . . thought I’d try and get the mistress out of her wet clothes, sir.’ Pearl hovered uncertainly, ready to run if he told her to clear off, but he merely nodded numbly and, rising from his seat, walked unsteadily from the room. He too was in shock, but there was little Pearl could do for him.

  The police were the next to arrive and they questioned each of them in turn, apart from Eliza who was still missing.

  ‘Did you hear anything untoward last night? Did you hear young Mr Forbes cry out? Did . . .’ The questions went on and they all answered them mechanically, wishing they had heard something. Perhaps they could have prevented this tragedy if they had. And then at last the back door opened and Eliza returned, wet and bedraggled.

  ‘You’d better go up and get changed, the police will want to speak to you,’ Pearl told her gently, and without a word her sister went to do as she was told.

  When the doctor returned that evening, he was able to inform them that he thought it was the blow to the back of the head that had killed Monty. It wasn’t good news, but it was better than knowing that he had been alive when the wolves attacked him. ‘The police are questioning everyone who knew him. I’m sure they’ll get the murderer,’ he said gravely, before going through to attend to Mrs Forbes. She had lain in the drawing room all day without saying a word.

  At Mr Forbes’s request, Pearl wrote a letter to Mrs Forbes’s parents in London informing them of their grandson’s death and the next morning she took it to the post office. From there it would sail on the first ship to leave the port. Eliza still hadn’t said so much as one single word to her, and Pearl left her alone to grieve in her own way.

  The funeral was arrange
d for three days’ time and Cook was glad to have something to do again as she began to prepare the food for the wake. The Forbeses were very well respected in the town and she was expecting a good turnout, although how Monty’s poor mother was going to get through it, she had no idea. She seemed to be locked away in a world where no one could reach her and they were all tiptoeing about the house like ghosts, afraid to disturb her.

  The police arrived to give Mr Forbes an update daily, but as yet no arrests had been made and the longer it went on, the more doubtful it was that they would ever catch who had done it.

  ‘Everyone he knew that we’ve spoken to have had cast-iron alibis for that evening,’ the constable told him with a shake of his head.

  Numb with grief, Monty’s father could only nod. He was suffering all manner of guilt now for he and Monty had never had the best of relationships. In fact, he had always had a suspicion that Monty had had a hand in his little sister’s death. Monty had been jealous of Elizabeth and had resented her from the day she was born. But now he wished he had tried a little harder with him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have pushed him so hard to work in the businesses? Perhaps he should have shown him a little more affection? But it was too late to make amends now, and he daily whipped himself for what he saw as his failings.

  And then all too soon, it was time for the funeral – an event every parent prays they will never see. It was a dark, dismal, day to match their moods and Pearl helped Mrs Forbes into her black mourning clothes as the woman stood mute, her eyes dull and staring, before leading her downstairs to where a carriage pulled by two magnificent jet-black stallions with black plumes on their heads was waiting to take her and the master to the church.

  The second it pulled away from the door, everyone ran about laying out the magnificent banquet Cook had slaved over, and preparing the cups and saucers for when the mourners returned. In no time, the house seemed to be bursting at the seams as people stood about eating and drinking and talking in hushed voices. But at last, as darkness fell, the final mourners departed and the staff breathed sighs of relief.

  ‘Phew, I’m glad that’s over,’ Cook remarked, as she sank into the chair at the side of the kitchen fire and kicked her slippers off. ‘Me feet are killing me and I’m having a nice cup o’ tea before I do anythin’ else. Put the kettle on, Sally, there’s a good lass. And all of you lot have one, too. The clearing up can wait for a bit.’

  Soon they all sat sipping tea. It had been a terrible day. If truth be told, none of them had had a lot of time for Monty – he had never had time for them, after all, except to treat them all as menials – but they felt heartsore for the poor master and mistress.

  ‘I reckon the mistress brought a lot of this about,’ Cook confided to Pearl. ‘She always spoiled him and let him have his own way, but then I suppose that’s what mothers do. Never having had any of me own, I’m no expert on the matter.’

  Pearl nodded as she glanced at Eliza. Not one word had she spoken to her since the morning they had found Monty’s body lying in the yard, despite all Pearl’s efforts to draw her into conversation. The last few days had been horrendous for everyone, but the funeral was over and once more Pearl was forced to think of her predicament. Monty might be gone but his child was growing inside her, and the thought of it filled her with dread as she wondered what the mistress would say when she found out. Her hand subconsciously dropped to her stomach as she chewed on her lip. One thing was for sure, she wouldn’t be able to put off telling her for much longer. It was a daunting thought.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I

  n May, the weather finally changed for the better and at last spring was in the air after all the long cold months of rain and snow. Tender green buds began to unfurl on the trees and spring flowers pushed through the earth. Suddenly Pearl’s waistbands were growing a little tight and one morning as she cleared the dining room table, Cook said quietly, ‘You’re going to have to tell the mistress about the bairn soon, hinny. You’ll not be able to hide it much longer.’

  Ignoring the look of contempt that Eliza was flashing her, Pearl nodded. ‘I know, Mrs Drew; I’ve been meaning to but after what’s happened I need to pick the right time.’

  Susan burst through the back door then, beaming from ear to ear, and dumped the basket of shopping she had just fetched for Cook on to the table. ‘I think I’ve got some news that will make you smile,’ she told a bemused Pearl. ‘I’ve just heard in the hardware shop that the ship Nick is on is due into port today.’

  Pearl leaned heavily on the edge of the table as the colour drained from her face, and Susan frowned. ‘B-but I thought you’d be pleased.’

  ‘I-I would have been not so long ago.’ Pearl’s voice came out as a squeak. ‘But I, er . . . I’ve decided that we’re too young to think of settling down yet awhile.’

  ‘Really?’ Susan was amazed. ‘But I thought you loved each other.’

  ‘I did too, but you can’t get it right all the time and I’ve changed my mind.’ Pearl forced a smile and hoped that Susan wouldn’t notice how her hands were shaking. Without another word, she left the room as Susan stared after her.

  She found Mrs Forbes sitting in her seat by the window, gazing blankly out, just as she did each and every day now. She rarely spoke anymore and even when she did her voice was dull and lifeless.

  Pearl’s heart was thumping so loudly that she was sure her mistress would hear it. Nick was home! She would have to tell him that it was over between them now. Better that than see the look of contempt on his face when he eventually found out that she was carrying someone else’s child.

  ‘It’s time for your medication, ma’am,’ she told her mistress gently, but when she brought it to her with a spoon, Mrs Forbes pushed it away.

  ‘Don’t want it! It makes me tired.’

  ‘But the doctor said—’

  ‘I don’t want it,’ the woman repeated stubbornly, so with a sigh Pearl placed it down and quietly left the room. She could hardly pour it down her throat, after all, and perhaps it was a good sign that she didn’t want to be drugged up anymore?

  She hurried upstairs to snatch a few quiet moments to herself as she tried to think of what she could say to Nick. The thought of hurting him was tearing her apart but what else could she do? Far better for him to sail away not knowing what had happened. At least then he stood a chance of meeting someone who deserved him.

  The rest of the day dragged by painfully slowly and as usual the mistress retired early, leaving Pearl free to do as she chose. The master and mistress rarely ate together in the dining room anymore, which meant a lot less work for the staff. The mistress usually had a tray sent up to her room, which almost always came back untouched, and the master had started to eat out. Pearl couldn’t blame him. There was no laughter or joy in the house anymore, so who could blame him for staying out of it as much as he could? Now was her ideal opportunity to go and meet Nick and let him down as gently as she could, and yet when it came to it, she found that she couldn’t do it.

  I’ll go and tell him tomorrow, she promised herself as she wearily climbed the stairs to her room.

  Eliza was out, but then since the weather had improved, she often went for a walk by the river in the evening. Pearl wasn’t entirely happy about it, knowing how dangerous the river could be should anyone slip into it, but Eliza was a big girl now and she was no longer able to tell her what to do. With a sigh, she slipped out of her dress and lay on the bed, listening to the sound of birdsong through the open window as she thought of Nick and what might have been.

  Eliza meantime was walking purposely towards the town with a grim expression on her face. She knew that when Nick was ashore, he would normally come to meet Pearl and she hoped that he would this evening. Sure enough, within minutes of setting off she spotted a figure striding towards her. It was Nick and she smiled with satisfaction. It was time to get her revenge for what she considered to be her sister’s betrayal.

  ‘Hello, Eliza,’ he g
reeted her cheerily. ‘Are you well? I was just coming to meet Pearl.’ He was carrying a large bunch of flowers and looked happy and healthy.

  ‘Oh!’ Eliza put on a suitably tragic expression. ‘Then I-I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey.’

  ‘Really?’ He frowned. ‘She isn’t ill, is she?’

  Eliza shook her head setting her blonde curls bobbing. ‘No . . . but . . . well, you’ve probably heard about Master Monty being murdered? It was a few weeks ago and the police still haven’t caught his killer. It’s looking highly unlikely that they ever will now and—’

  ‘Look, just tell me where Pearl is,’ Nick butted in impatiently.

  Eliza pursed her lips. ‘The thing is, Pearl left soon after he died. She went on a ship back to England and none of us have heard from her since. To be honest, I think she and Monty had something going between them and once he was gone, she couldn’t bear to stay here. She asked me to tell you the next time you came back and to say sorry for her.’

  ‘No!’ Nick stared at her in stunned disbelief. It couldn’t be true. He and Pearl were promised to each other.

  But then common sense kicked in and his shoulders sagged as the flowers slipped from his hand to land in the dust. Why would Eliza lie to him? She had no reason to and everyone knew what a lady’s man Monty had been. Perhaps he had wooed Pearl after he sailed the last time and she had fallen for his charms? If so, she couldn’t have cared for him that much. She hadn’t even bothered to leave him a letter.

  Eliza reached out to touch him, but with his eyes dangerously moist, he backed away. ‘Then if that’s the case I shall sail on The Dolphin with the tide tomorrow. I was planning to be here for a while but there’s no point in staying now. I should still have time to sign on if I get straight back.’