A Place Called Home (22 page)

‘I hope not,' Lucy said fervently. ‘I'll go to my room now, so goodnight, Mrs Hodges.'

‘Breakfast will be served in the dining room, as usual,' Mrs Hodges said firmly. ‘We won't allow our standards to slip on our last day.'

‘No, of course not. And if ever you need a reference you have only to write to me at Pilgrim House, and I'll be happy to oblige.' Lucy walked slowly towards the staircase, and suddenly she was a child again. Echoes from the past filled her head as she mounted the stairs. Her grandfather's voice boomed in her ear and she could hear the mocking tones of her tormentors, Susan and Martha. She walked slowly and purposefully up to the fourth floor and the old nursery suite. Opening the door she went inside and stood in the darkness with only the faintest glow from the street lamps to reveal the shrouded shapes of the furniture. She could hear Miss Wantage's sharp tones and the swish of the wooden ruler as it came down on her outstretched hand, again and again. She clenched her fist, experiencing real pain as well as the ache in her heart for a lost childhood. She left the room, closing the door on her memories.

She went down two flights of stairs to her room and found a fire burning brightly in the grate. This was a small act of kindness that touched her to the core. Mrs Hodges had seen to it that her last night in the old house was warm and comfortable. The woman who had seemed like an ogre to a frightened ten-year-old was human after all. Life in Albemarle Street had been constrained by rigid rules and even more rigid attention to etiquette, but there had been security and her future had been mapped out for her. She undressed and climbed into bed, pulling the coverlet up to her chin. Tomorrow would be the start of a journey into the unknown. She would be Lucy Pocket from now on. Young Lucy Marriott would remain as a shadow of the past in the shrouded schoolroom.

Breakfast was a silent meal. Lucy sat in state at the head of the vast table attempting to do justice to the kedgeree, which Cook had prepared specially, knowing that it was one of her favourites. With Bedwin safely ensconced in Pilgrim House it was left to Dorcas, the under parlour maid, to wait on table. She looked nervous and about to burst into tears at any moment. After a few mouthfuls Lucy had to admit defeat, although it grieved her to leave such a delicious plateful of food. She would regret it later when faced with a simple meal of bread and cheese or a bowl of vegetable broth, but her throat felt swollen and it was difficult to swallow. She rose from the table, thanking Dorcas and shaking her hand. ‘I hope you find another position soon.'

‘Thank you, Miss Lucy.' Dorcas curtsied. ‘Shall I clear away now?'

‘No.' The sound of a man's voice made them both jump. ‘You may fetch a pot of fresh coffee and some toast.'

Lucy turned slowly to see Linus about to take a seat in the chair she had just vacated. ‘You're early, aren't you?' she said coldly. ‘You simply couldn't wait to throw me out of my home.'

He picked up her discarded table napkin and made a show of spreading it across his lap. ‘Go on, girl, don't stand there like a waxwork.' He dismissed Dorcas with a wave of his hand, and the maid scuttled out of the room.

‘I see you've lost none of your charm.' Lucy headed for the door. ‘Good luck, Linus. I hope you get everything that's coming to you.'

He bared his teeth in a humourless smile. ‘Oh, I will, my dear. I'll live life to the full. And how are you getting on with your adopted family? I imagine you must have taken Bramwell into the fold as well. That won't please your fiancé.'

Lucy glared at him. ‘I have no fiancé, as I'm sure you must know by now. Piers decided that we weren't suited after all, and I agree.'

‘I suppose you prefer the more earthy charms of a certain young hussar. I regret my generosity in purchasing his commission, but then I'm a good-hearted fellow.'

‘He's survived the rigours of serving in India, no thanks to you. It will be a good day when he quits the army.'

Linus was suddenly alert. ‘He's selling up?'

‘I – I don't know what his intentions are.'

He leapt to his feet. ‘You're lying.' He moved towards her, grabbing her by the throat. ‘Take this message to Bramwell. I know that the buying and selling of commissions is likely to end before the year is out.' He released her with a bark of laughter. ‘You might think I'm a fool, Lucy Pocket, but I keep abreast of current affairs, particularly when it concerns me. I want my money back, every last penny. Tell him that, and inform him that unless he repays me in full I will announce to the world in general that his sister was a whore, and that her children are bastards in the true sense of the word. Do you understand?'

Lucy knew she must warn Bram that a careless slip of the tongue had alerted Linus to his plans, but she kept putting off the moment. It was not until later that morning when they were in a hansom cab on their way to Limehouse that she managed to pluck up the courage to admit her faux pas. She stared straight ahead, not daring to look at him. ‘I've done something awful,' she said, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. ‘I didn't mean to tell him, but it just came out.'

‘What are you talking about? It can't be that bad, surely?'

‘It is, Bram. Linus made me so angry that I didn't realise what I was saying until it was too late.' She shot him a sideways glance. ‘I told him that you were going to sell your commission.'

‘I can guess the rest.'

‘I'm so sorry. The moment the words left my lips I knew I'd made a terrible mistake.'

‘He would have found out sooner or later,' Bram said after a brief pause. ‘These things have a habit of coming to light.'

‘I am truly sorry.'

‘What's done is done.'

‘But you don't know what he said.'

‘I can guess, and it wouldn't have been pleasant. I imagine he made dire threats which he would carry out unless the money was returned to him in full. Am I right?'

‘He threatened to blacken Meg's name and put it about that the children are illegitimate. He has no shame.'

‘It's only what I would have expected from someone like him. It will give me pleasure to throw the money in his face. I want nothing that came from him.'

Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I know you're right, but it hardly seems fair.'

‘You mustn't worry about me. To quote Hester, water finds its own level. I'll do exactly that when I'm a free man.' He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I intend to find work so that I can contribute towards the children's upkeep. They're my responsibility, not yours.'

‘They're my family too, Bram. Their grandmother was my father's aunt.'

‘We'll agree to share the little darlings, shall we?' he said, laughing.

They shook hands and any tension that Lucy had felt vanished like morning mist, but as she looked out at the unfamiliar streets she had a feeling of foreboding. ‘I don't know this part of London,' she murmured. ‘But I can smell the mud on the foreshore so we must be nearing Limehouse.'

Bram lifted his cane and tapped the cab roof. The window flipped open and the cabby peered down at them. ‘Yes, guv?'

‘Is this Limehouse?'

‘It is. Where d'you want me to drop you off?'

‘The nearest pub.'

‘Right you are, guv.' The cabby reined in his horse. ‘This ain't a good area. Are you sure about this?'

Lucy could see that they had stopped outside a rough-looking tavern sited between a warehouse and a pawnshop. If she had thought that the area round the London docks was run down and filled with doubtful characters, this place was ten times worse. Despite the fact that it was a sunny day very little light filtered through the miasma of smoke and industrial pollution. The air was filled with noise from the docks and the sounds of the river as well as a cacophony of voices, all of them raised and speaking in a dozen or more different languages. Buckets of night soil remained uncollected on the pavements and the road was ankle-deep in horse dung, straw and rubbish tossed carelessly from upstairs windows.

Bram helped her to alight. ‘Wait here, cabby. We'll move on to the next one if the person we're seeking doesn't work here.'

‘Good luck, guv. You'll need it.'

The atmosphere in the taproom was thick with smoke and alcohol fumes. Bram took one look inside and insisted that Lucy waited in the doorway while he made enquiries at the bar. She had to fend off several whisky-soaked propositions before Bram eventually threaded his way back through the crowd. ‘No luck here.' He ushered her outside. ‘Perhaps I should have come on my own. This isn't the place for you.'

‘If Pearl is working near here I need to speak to her.'

‘Get back in the cab.' Bram practically threw her up onto the seat, leaping after her as the cabby flicked the whip and the horse lurched forward. ‘I hope to God we find her soon.'

The pubs nearest to the docks were even rougher and more crowded. Bram refused to take Lucy inside, insisting that she remained in the cab under the watchful eye of its driver. Eventually, after many such unsuccessful attempts to find Pearl, they had almost given up hope of finding her. Bram had given the cabby instructions to take them back to Whitechapel, but as they drove along Narrow Street Lucy spotted a woman who looked familiar. There was something about the way she walked that reminded her forcibly of Pearl, and she thumped on the roof, ordering the cabby to stop. Without giving Bram a chance to argue she climbed down to the pavement. ‘Wait. Please wait.'

The woman came to a halt, glancing nervously over her shoulder. ‘What d'you want?'

The resemblance had been fleeting and Pearl would be ten years older than this gaudily dressed woman with wild black hair and rouged lips. ‘I'm sorry,' Lucy said breathlessly. ‘I thought you were someone I once knew.'

‘What's a lady like you doing round here?' The woman looked her up and down as if calculating the cost of Lucy's clothes.

She had deliberately worn her plainest gown of grey poplin, such as a governess might wear, but even so there was no denying the cut and quality of her outfit and she realised that she must present an odd figure. ‘I'm looking for a friend,' she said breathlessly. ‘Pearl Sykes. I don't suppose you know her?'

‘Pearl Sykes. Never heard of her. Take my advice, dear, and go home. If your friend lives in a place like this you don't want to know her. She's past hope, like me.' The woman was about to walk away when Lucy caught her by the arm.

‘If she's fallen on hard times where might I find her? She used to work in a pub somewhere in Limehouse, but we've tried almost all of them and no one remembers her.'

The woman stared at her. ‘What's it worth?'

Lucy opened her reticule and took out sixpence, pressing it into her hand. ‘Any information would help.'

‘That all you got?'

Lucy was about to give her more when Bram arrived at her side. ‘What tale has she spun you, Lucy?'

The woman sidled up to Bram with a provocative wiggle of her hips. ‘D'you want me to tell your fortune, mister? Send the little girl home and Froniga will find you a woman who'll know how to pleasure a brave soldier.'

‘Thank you for the offer, but I'm spoken for.' Bram held his hand out to Lucy. ‘Come on, the cabby's getting impatient.'

Froniga turned to Lucy. ‘If your friend is down on her luck she'll either be in the workhouse or a bawdy house. Take your pick.'

‘I was hoping she might have news of my grandmother,' Lucy said tearfully. ‘It's Granny I want to find and Pearl was her friend.'

‘Come away, Lucy. You won't get anything here,' Bram said impatiently.

‘That's all you know, mister.' Froniga tossed her head and her gold earrings flashed in the sunlight. ‘My granny was Romany and I got second sight.'

‘Then you might be able to help me.' Lucy was not about to give up. She had come this far and somehow she had a feeling that this strange person held the secret. ‘Eva Pocket,' she whispered. ‘My granny is Eva Pocket and I haven't seen her for ten years.'

‘I'd need something of hers to hold and take me to her.'

Lucy slipped the chain over her head and dropped the locket into Froniga's outstretched hand. ‘She used to wear this all the time but she gave it to me for my eleventh birthday.'

Froniga closed her fingers over it, closed her eyes and stood swaying slightly on the balls of her feet.

‘This is nonsense,' Bram said angrily. ‘She's gulling you, Lucy.'

Froniga either chose to ignore him or she was in a state where she heard nothing but the voices in her head. ‘I see Eva Pocket. She's in a bad place.'

‘Where is she?' Lucy's voice rose to a high pitch. ‘Tell me, Froniga. Please tell me.'

‘It's dark and I can't make out exactly where it is, but I could take you there.'

‘This has gone far enough.' Bram dragged Lucy aside. ‘Don't listen to her. She's just after money.'

Froniga blinked as if waking from a sound sleep, focusing her eyes on Bram with a downward curl of her lips. She pointed a shaking finger at him. ‘You shouldn't have interfered. Now she's lost again.'

‘How could you, Bram?' Lucy's lips trembled. ‘I was so close to Granny that I could almost feel her presence.'

‘The gypsy woman has cast a spell on you. We need to get away from this place.' He grabbed her by the hand. ‘Get in the cab, please.'

‘What are you afraid of, mister?' Froniga snapped her fingers at him. ‘You just want to keep her to yourself, but she is a free spirit. She won't be tied to any one man unless he wins her heart and her mind.'

Lucy snatched her hand free, turning her back on Bram. ‘How will I find my grandmother, Froniga? Tell me, please.'

‘The moment has passed. I can't help you now.' Froniga dropped the locket into Lucy's hand and walked off, her ample hips swaying.