The Constant Heart (55 page)

Rosina linked her hand through Caddie's arm. 'I'll tell you everything when we're all together. It's complicated.'

Through sheer necessity, they were back on the barge next day, taking yet another load of rubbish downriver. When they had begun trading, the other watermen had laughed at the oddly assorted trio, and some had been openly hostile at the sight of two women working on the river. But gradually, with each trip, Rosina felt that they were beginning to earn respect. She hated the stench of the rubbish in the hold, the flies and the dust that irritated her eyes and filled her nostrils and mouth, but she kept her sights set on the money they would earn at the end of each voyage. In the hut, the rusty tin on the shelf was growing heavier each day with the money she saved out of her share of the payments from Gilks.

A week after the trial she found Septimus waiting for her on the wharf when they returned from the Medway. Leaving Pip and Caddie to make fast, she clambered up the ladder to meet him. 'Septimus, what news of Walter?'

He took off his hat, shaking his head. 'It's not good, I'm afraid.'

She was uncomfortably aware of the curious glances from the dockers and a hard stare from Gilks, who had just come out of the office. 'Let's walk, and you can tell me everything.'

He offered her his arm. 'Look – no shakes. I've been remarkably abstemious since I took on Walter's case. If I'm not careful I might become a reformed character.'

In spite of everything, Rosina could not suppress a gurgle of laughter. 'I can't see you joining the Temperance Society somehow.'

'Perhaps not, but I've given up my lodgings in Naked Boy Yard and moved in as a permanent paying guest with the Smilies. Gladys takes pleasure in mothering me, and to tell the truth, I rather enjoy it.'

'I'm glad, for your sake, Septimus, but what about Walter? Do you think the charges will stick?'

'Barnum says he has a witness. I've done my best to discover who it is, but so far I have found nothing definite.' Septimus stopped as they reached the roadside and he put his hand in his coat pocket. 'Walter is desperately ashamed of his outburst after the trial. He begs you to forgive him, and he hopes that you can understand why he allowed his feelings to overcome his better judgement.'

'I used to tease him about his iron self-control and lack of emotion,' Rosina said with a heartfelt sigh. 'I confess that it was a shock to see him lose his temper in such a way.'

'He sent you this.' Septimus took her hand and dropped the gold locket and chain into her palm. 'He wanted you to know that Will is very much alive, and that he loves you more than life itself.'

Rosina stared mutely at the locket, unable to speak for fear that she would burst into tears. Walter's anger and his harsh accusations had cut her to the quick.

'I don't understand the message,' Septimus said softly. 'But it seems that you do.'

'I do.'

'There's something more I have to tell you, Rosie.'

She could tell by the sound of his voice that it was not good news, and she raised her head to look him in the eyes. 'What is it? Tell me the worst.'

He cleared his throat and a dull flush brought colour to his normally pale cheeks. 'I told you that Barnum had a witness to the first act of piracy. He wouldn't divulge the name of that person, but he said whoever it was had implicated you in the robbery.'

'No! That's not possible.'

'Think hard, Rosie. It is possible that the fellow could be mistaken, or did you happen to be in the vicinity when the crime took place?'

'I – I was looking out of the window, and I thought I saw a movement on Captain Barnum's boat. I didn't care about him, but my papa's barge was moored alongside the
Curlew
. I went to raise Mr Cotton, the wharfinger, but I slipped and fell . . .' She stopped, unable to go on. The vivid memories of that night had come back in a blinding flash. She could hear Will's voice whispering in her ear. 'My beautiful rose' – that was what he had called her. If only she had known then that Will and Walter were one and the same.

'Go on,' Septimus said gently. 'What happened then?'

'I didn't know it was Walter, but I recognised the pirate's voice. I – I had met him before at Cremorne Gardens. He was masked and I did not see his face but we danced on the crystal platform and he held me in his arms. It was like magic.'

'And you fell in love with him.'

Rosina looked away, unable to meet his gaze. 'I know it sounds silly, but perhaps in my heart I knew all along that the pirate and Walter were the same person.'

'And Walter did steal from Captain Barnum's vessel?'

She could not answer, would not answer. She could not utter the words that would incriminate the man she loved and possibly send him to the gallows. 'What will we do?'

'I don't know yet, but I will go and visit Walter in Newgate. He must have had good reason to target Captain Barnum, and only Walter knows the truth.'

'And what if he won't tell you?'

'He will do anything to protect you and your good name. Walter won't stand by and see you dragged into court as a material witness.' Septimus raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. 'Trust me, Rosie. I will get Walter acquitted if it's the last thing I do.'

She watched him stride away towards the road, but she could not share his optimism. There was some deep, dark secret that Walter was hiding, even from her. She had no idea what it could be, but it must have something to do with Captain Barnum, or why would Walter steal from him and him alone? Barnum was obviously the key to the mystery; she must face him and demand to know the truth.

The
Curlew
was not in port. Rosina had run all the way from Duke's Shore Wharf to Black Eagle Wharf, and by the time she reached her destination she was hot, breathless and desperate to find Captain Barnum. On questioning one of the dockers who was unloading barrels from a lighter, she discovered that the
Curlew
had sailed earlier that morning. She knew the route that Barnum would take to collect his cargo from the farmers of Essex. She had done this trip with her father many times in the past, and although her memory of the route was hazy, she was becoming quite adept at reading a chart. She made her way back to Duke's Shore Wharf. Caddie and Pip would be disappointed – they had been eagerly anticipating a day's rest – but she knew that they would rally round in her hour of need.

With the leeboard raised, the
Ellie May
slid onto the mudflats in the narrow creek. Beneath the vast expanse of sky, the saltings were haunted by the ghostly cries of curlews and the liquid song of skylarks. The acres of mud and brackish water were punctuated by tussocks of marram grass stretching as far as the eye could see, and a group of buildings perched like beached whales on higher ground. At high tide the boat would float gently back into the mainstream, giving Rosina a few short hours in which to find Captain Barnum, although she was fairly certain that he would be ensconced in the alehouse while Barker saw to the loading of the barge just a little further up the creek.

Leaving Caddie and Pip on board, she lowered herself onto the sticky mud. She had taken off her boots and they hung by their laces around her neck. She could remember doing the same thing when she had accompanied her pa all those years ago. She felt as though his spirit was with her as she leapt from tussock to tussock, occasionally having to wade through the glutinous morass until she reached firmer ground. The alehouse was constructed of weatherboard and the roof thatched with reeds; beyond it were a couple of fishermen's cottages and a hay barn. As she went inside her nostrils were assailed by the strong smell of hops and malt mixed with tobacco smoke from the clay pipes clenched between the teeth of two old men seated on a bench. They glared at her as if she had no right to invade their masculine domain, but she ignored them. The landlord did not seem much more welcoming as he eyed her suspiciously from behind the bar where barrels of beer squatted on wooden trestles. He folded his arms across his chest. 'I think you made a mistake, missy. This ain't no place for the likes of you.'

Rosina stood her ground. 'I'm looking for Captain Ham Barnum.'

'And what might you want with the captain?'

'It's all right, Cooper. I know this young woman.'

She turned with a start. Barnum was sitting at a small table behind the door with a pint tankard in front of him. He beckoned to her and she moved swiftly to take a seat opposite him.

'You shouldn't be here, Miss May. You won't do any good by pleading your cause with me. I'll see that young devil hanged and you must take your chances with the law for abetting him.'

His eyes were cold as shards of ice, and Rosina's fingers trembled as they sought the comforting touch of the locket which Septimus had restored to her keeping. Just the feel of the warm gold seemed to bring her closer to Walter. 'You had your differences with my pa, but I still think you are a fair man, Captain Barnum. Walter is not a criminal. I'm begging you to drop the case against him.'

'He did me a great wrong. Why should he go unpunished?'

It was true. Walter had broken the law: that was an undeniable fact, but he must have had good reason, of that she was certain. As she sought desperately to think of an answer which would convince him, she tugged at the locket and it flew open. The medallion landed on the table and rolled towards Barnum. He picked it up, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. 'This is a strange object for a young lady to hide in a locket. It must be a love token.'

When she did not answer, he slipped it into the palm of his hand and examined it more closely. His smile faded and the medallion fell from his nerveless fingers. 'Where did you get this?'

Rosina caught it and held it in her hand. 'What does it matter who gave it to me?'

'It matters to me.' Barnum grasped her by the wrist. 'I won't ask you again, girl. Where did you get that medallion?'

'Let go of me, Captain Barnum. I will tell you nothing until you are calmer, sir.'

He released her, drawing his hand away and rubbing it across his temples. 'What is inscribed on it? Read it to me.'

She peered at the heart-shaped piece of gold, holding it in a shaft of pale sunlight as it filtered through the salt-spattered window glass. 'It is initials – WB.' Her heart missed a beat. Now he would know for certain that Walter had given it to her.

'Winifred,' Barnum said slowly. 'I gave that token to my wife on our wedding day.'

His deep distress was obvious and Rosina shook her head. 'No, sir. You must be mistaken. I believe the initials stand for Winifred Brown, not Barnum.'

Barnum leapt to his feet. 'My God. It can't be. Why didn't I see it before?'

'I don't understand.' Rosina rose slowly, pushing the chair back from the table.

'I should have known him. By God I should. He even looks like her.'

She was frightened now. His eyes were glazed and starting from his head – he looked like a madman. Even the old men had stopped smoking their pipes, and the landlord had come out from behind the bar. 'What's the matter, Captain?'

'You little fool,' Barnum hissed, seizing Rosina by the arm. 'You have no idea, have you? Your friend Walter Brown is none other than my son, William Barnum.' Without waiting for her response, he slammed out of the alehouse.

She was too stunned and shocked to move, and her first reaction was of denial. Captain Barnum must be mistaken. Walter could not possibly be his son – and yet . . . She hurried after him, catching him by the sleeve as he paced up and down, mumbling beneath his breath and shaking his head. 'Captain, please be calm. Could it be that you are mistaken?'

Barnum came to a halt, staring at her with a bleak expression in his eyes. 'I did not recognise my own flesh and blood.'

In her mind's eye she saw Walter, the unobtrusive counting-house clerk, and the pieces of the puzzle seemed to move a little closer together. 'Perhaps he did not want you to recognise him, sir?'