The Promise (10 page)

She smiled. ‘I like sitting here, where I can watch what’s happening on the lake. And it is so peaceful. Listen!’

It was still early in the morning and oddly quiet, many visitors having already returned home to start the new term. All Chrissie could hear was the soft lap of water on the shingled shore, the wind in the trees, and somewhere high above, the lone cry of a curlew. A pair of swans sailed serenely by, a partnership that would last for life; then out of nowhere, as if she had no control over her own words, Chrissie found herself saying, ‘To make matters worse, I’ve just refused an offer of marriage from a very dear friend who was there for me when I was at my lowest.’

‘Ah, which has opened up old wounds. Did he not take it well?’

Chrissie made a little sound in her throat. ‘I’m afraid not. If he doesn’t like what he’s hearing, Peter stubbornly refuses to listen. He seems completely oblivious to whatever I say.’

‘I see.’ Georgia sat back, folding her hands in her lap. ‘Perhaps that’s his pride at work. Some men react badly to rejection, even when they don’t necessarily love you as much as they claim. Sometimes aggressively so.’

Chrissie glanced at her grandmother, a frown puckering her forehead. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. You may well be right.’ But the comment seemed oddly personal, as if the old lady was referring to something – or someone – else entirely.

After another long pause Georgia continued, ‘I’m sure you’ve done the right thing by refusing his offer. You only get one chance at life, and if you don’t feel the marriage would work, then you had no choice but to refuse him.
Not everyone has that choice, more’s the pity, and there’s nothing worse than being married to a man you don’t love.’

‘You sound as if you speak with feeling, Mrs Cowper, yet you married the love of your life.’

The old woman smiled sadly at her. ‘Indeed, Ellis was my first and only love, but, as I mentioned before, my parents did not approve of our friendship and had quite different plans for me, particularly Mama.’

‘You did see him again, though, didn’t you, after that first disastrous meeting with your parents? You said that you sent your maid, Maura, to look for him and he was still outside your house, waiting.’

That familiar warmth came back into the faded grey eyes. ‘Oh yes, Ellis swore he would have waited till hell froze over.’ She chuckled softly to herself. ‘And I did secretly rebel and managed to manufacture an opportunity to see him again. After that, we saw each other regularly, although always in secret and nowhere near as often as we would have liked. It was very difficult, but Mama and Papa knew nothing. I never even told Prue, as she couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. Only Maura knew, and acted as courier between us.’

‘How romantic.’

The light in her eyes dimmed a little, her expression turning rather sad. ‘Yes, for a time it was truly romantic, but also dangerous and rather cowardly of me. Ellis was for confronting my parents to tell them we were in love, but I was too afraid they might stop me seeing him altogether. I’ve thought many times since, that if perhaps
I’d been braver, or more outspoken and rebellious from the start, instead of so secretive, things might have turned out differently. But I was so young, and trained to be a dutiful daughter. I still believed in happy endings, that love would prevail in the end.’

‘And did it?’

‘That’s a very good question, dear. A very good question indeed.’

That summer I told Mama my first lie. ‘I’ve been asked to help out at the Seamen’s Institute. Maura and Prudence have both volunteered to come too. You wouldn’t have any objections, would you, Mama?’ They hadn’t asked me at all; I’d called in and offered my services, which were readily accepted. And my sister had only agreed to come with me after considerable persuasion, but then I knew Mama would never allow me to go alone. Even so, she was no fool.

‘This hasn’t something to do with that dreadful English sailor, has it?’

I put on my most innocent expression. ‘Of course not – why, I’d forgotten all about him.’ My second lie. ‘Didn’t you bring us up to be useful and care for those less fortunate than ourselves?’ My mother was a governor of many local high schools, as well as involved with charity work at the
church. She was looking decidedly uncomfortable.

‘Well, I dare say there could be no harm in your helping, perhaps once a week. I insist that John drives you in the brougham, and he will wait outside for you on Steuart Street until you are done, in order to conduct you safely home. And I want you all back home on the dot of nine. You will not wander about unescorted, since I remember only too well the trouble last time I allowed you to come home alone, and that was in broad daylight. Nor must you fraternise with any of those young men,’ she sternly warned, fixing me with her gimlet gaze.

‘As if I would do such a thing!’ My third lie, but not, I’m afraid, my last. On my first evening at the Institute I learnt two surprising things about sailors; one was that they loved to sing. We could hear their voices booming out in a full-throated body of sound even as we stepped down from the carriage. It brought with it the rush and smell of the sea. I could imagine them singing against the wind as they sailed into the bay. The second, and perhaps more important thing that I noticed, was that they were not the scum of the earth most people claimed them to be. As I stood at the door, Maura and Prudence beside me, feeling oddly shy and awkward, what I saw was a hall filled not with ruffians who had come here to drink, but men who were neat and tidy, scrubbed clean and smartly attired in their best uniforms. They looked as respectable as any gathering of Frisco’s crème de la crème.

One group of young sailors were engaged in a
three-legged
race, clearly enjoying themselves while a laughing audience cheered them on. Some were playing cards or
dominoes at tables set out for that purpose, and to my very great surprise one or two seemed to be actually knitting, although I doubt it was the kind of lacy stole Mama made. At the end of the hall was a stage upon which stood what must have been over fifty men, all singing a sea shanty that threatened to lift the roof. I was enchanted.

‘Oh, my goodness,’ murmured Prue, equally entranced, though perhaps for a different reason. ‘So many men!’

A round-faced, smiling young woman in an apron bustled over. ‘Ah, Miss Briscoe, and your sister, is it? Oh, and you’ve brought along a friend too. Excellent. So delighted to meet you all, and deeply grateful for your offer. We’re rather pressed and desperate for a helping hand. Molly and I are just preparing supper – would you and your friend mind serving the tea? I’ve set up the urn in the corner, out of the way.’

Maura turned pink-cheeked at being so addressed and started to interrupt. ‘I’m Miss Georgina’s maid, ma’am, not—’ but I quickly hushed her.

‘What does it matter who you are? We’re in this together, Maura,’ I whispered. ‘More importantly, have you any idea how to operate that urn?’ The plump young woman had already bustled away with almost as much haste as she had received us, so I was feeling very slightly stunned.

Maura’s round plain face broke into a grin. ‘We have one in the kitchen just like it, miss.’

‘Splendid. Then lead the way.’

During the next hour we hardly had time to breathe as we poured tea, helped spread peanut butter on thick slices
of bread, and served hot red pepper soup. The seamen were impeccably polite and welcomed the good food with a hearty appetite. There were many young boys who hadn’t yet grown a beard and hardly seemed old enough to have left their mothers’ arms. Old veterans with powerful physiques and battered weathered skin as tough as old leather, yet with the manners of gentlemen as they helped themselves to food. And all the while I was seeking one face in particular.

I’d almost given up hope of finding him when Maura whispered in my ear. ‘There he is, miss, coming down from the stage. He must have been one of the singers.’

My heart gave a painful lurch, and as my eager gaze searched the crowd of men pouring off the stage, politely forming an orderly line for their own supper, there he was, and my eager gaze greedily devoured him. He looked different in uniform, and even as I daringly admired the length of his legs and the power of those shoulders I was worrying about how soon he might be leaving. Any day he could sail away on one of the many steamers, big sailing ships, mailboats or smaller craft that crowded the bay.

The wharves extended for some miles, taking in Mission Bay, Fisherman’s Wharf, numerous piers, the Ferry Building and the new Embarcadero still under construction. Some ships were laid up in the foul-smelling mudflats at Oakland Creek. Others chose to anchor at one of the more favoured and sheltered spots some miles from the congested bay area. But if Ellis was at the Institute tonight, his ship couldn’t be too far away, could it? I wondered why it mattered. For reasons of basic
humanity, I told myself. There was far less likelihood of typhoid fever in the Bay of Sausalito, for instance, but I knew in my heart there was much more to it than that. I
needed
to see him again, to speak to him, to feel again that rush of excitement as he kissed me.

Prudence came up close and pinched my arm. ‘I guessed as much. This was your real reason for turning all charitable. You wanted to meet the brave and handsome Ellis Cowper again.’

‘You won’t tell Mama?’ I gave her my most beseeching look. ‘I beg you, Prue. How else could I get to see him?’

She gave me one of her pitying looks. ‘He is charming but it will only end in tears.’ For all Prue was younger than me by two years, she liked to give the impression she was far more sophisticated and worldly-wise than I. Maybe she was.

But I smiled and gave her a quick hug, knowing I’d won her round. ‘I do hope not.’

I ladled out soup as fast as I could, desperately hoping to reach the end of the line before we were obliged to leave in order to meet Mama’s curfew. Then suddenly he was holding out his empty bowl and I was filling it with a strangely shaky hand.

‘I thought it was you, but couldn’t quite believe it. It is you, isn’t it? Or are you a magical mirage I’ve dreamt up?’

I looked up into those entrancing blue eyes. ‘Would you like a peanut butter sandwich?’ I asked, as no more sensible reply sprang to mind.

‘I’d much rather have you instead.’

I must still have been pouring soup as his dish was almost brimming over. I quickly stopped, my cheeks burning as hot as the red peppers that made it, and handed him a sandwich. ‘I didn’t realise you could sing. It sounded wonderful.’ I should have guessed that he could, since the resonance in his voice had been one of the first things I’d noticed about him.

With some reluctance he edged towards Maura, who was manhandling the tea urn with professional efficiency. ‘I must see you, if only for five minutes,’ he whispered. ‘Alone.’

I was already smiling at the next man in line. ‘When I’ve finished this I’ll come over to you, but I can’t stay long,’ I managed, just before he moved out of earshot.

Eventually the two hundred or so seamen were all served and we ladies were then kept busy collecting up dirty dishes. Maura had her arms elbow-deep in soapsuds in the tiny kitchen at the back of the hall, washing up with the kind of happy grin on her face she never exhibited when tackling this same task in the kitchen back home. Prudence was carrying loaded trays, along with the other women, chatting and flirting with the sailors with the kind of aplomb Mama would consider cheap.

With both of them safely occupied, I glanced quickly about the room. Ellis was standing by the back door and he jerked his head, giving me a look which said everything. Desperate not to waste this precious opportunity, I slipped away and quietly followed him outside.

There was a cool nip in the air and a mist rolling in off the bay, but I noticed neither. I felt an overwhelming urge to walk straight into his arms. Only my innate caution and shyness held me back. ‘Good evening, Mr Cowper,’ I said, in my most ladylike tones.

‘Good evening, Miss Briscoe, I trust you are well and have experienced no further difficulties since our last meeting.’

He was smiling at me in that disarming way he had and I found myself smiling back. ‘Not in the least. As you see, Prue has made a full recovery. I couldn’t exactly claim she is a reformed character, but I fear our adventures have been somewhat curtailed since that day.’

‘A cause for regret, I should think.’

‘Indeed.’

The words might have been those exchanged between perfect strangers but the manner in which he was looking at me, the way he was edging ever closer, told quite a different story. I could scent the sea on him, and the freshness of the soap he’d used, despite the less pleasant odours drifting in with the fog, and was overcome with a strange breathlessness.

‘Will you be in port long—?’

‘Do you ever have time to yourself—?’

We’d both started speaking at once, and laughed with embarrassment. My own query had come of its own volition, expressing the one thought uppermost in my mind, but I didn’t repeat it, rather answered his. ‘Sometimes I walk in the Golden Gate Park, with Maura, or my sister.’

‘And does this walk take place at any special time?’

‘I find Wednesdays at two o’clock quite pleasant, as Mama is at her bridge club, Papa about his business and Prudence often visits with her friends, so on that particular afternoon there is only Maura. She and I enjoy a quiet stroll together.’

‘How fortuitous. I believe Wednesday would be most convenient for me too. I may perhaps see you there one day.’

I couldn’t answer, feeling the blood rise in my cheeks at my own daring. ‘I really must go. Mama insists we be home by nine and it is gone eight-thirty already. I dare not be late.’

‘No, that would be most unwise.’

As I turned to go he grasped my wrist very gently. ‘I won’t be leaving before we’ve had time to … to talk properly, maybe get to know each other a little. The SS
Kronus
has sailed, but I can find another berth any time. When I’m ready.’

I looked deep into his eyes and felt my heart soar. ‘Good,’ I said. ‘I’m glad.’ Then I fled, grabbed Maura, chivvied Prue away from her gossiping, and we ran to the brougham. We walked in the front door just as the hall clock chimed the hour.

At that first illicit meeting, Maura keeping a tactful distance, I felt a shudder of expectation ripple through me even as he hurried towards me on his long-legged stride. I knew it was wrong, and certainly Mama would consider my behaviour both wicked and wanton, yet I cared
nothing for convention, or even my reputation, in that moment. I wanted nothing more than to see this young man again and bask in the glorious knowledge that he was as captivated by me as I was with him.

‘I thought you might not come,’ he said, snatching up my hands and giving my fingers a small squeeze before dropping them quickly, as if he feared he’d overstepped the mark.

‘I’m sorry I was late, only we were held up helping Mama find her favourite brooch. She is most particular about which jewellery she wears, and that it is kept safe, but then has a tendency to carelessly leave it lying about, I’m afraid.’

‘It doesn’t matter, I’m just glad that you’re here.’

We walked in the Botanical Gardens, admiring the collection of rare plants from all around the world as Ellis talked about the different ships he’d worked on, the people he’d met, the places he’d visited. He told how he loved the banyan trees in Hawaii, the hot gushing geysers in New Zealand, Rotten Row in England where the fashionable ride their horses, the Ponte Vecchio bridge in Florence. He also spoke about the mountains and lakes of his home, how at this time of year the leaves would all turn gold, yellow ochre and crimson, the red deer would shyly forage in the deep forests, and curlew and eagle soar high above the mountains. Clearly well travelled, I asked him what it was that had led him to leave home if the English Lake District was as beautiful as he described.

He gave that irrepressible grin that I loved to distraction already. ‘I have itchy feet, I suppose. I’m an adventurer of
the old style, born into the wrong age. I would love to have sailed the world with Drake, been with the
Santa Maria
when Columbus first discovered this beautiful land, perhaps met Pocahontas and traded with the Indians.’ He laughed. ‘Or I might have sailed with John Cabot when he went seeking the North-West Passage. I don’t know what it is but I never stay anywhere too long. Maybe I quickly grow bored, but I just have to see what’s around the next bend, or over the next hill.’

I was smiling at his boyish enthusiasm, savouring the warmth of his shoulder brushing casually against mine as we walked, yet his words troubled me. ‘Don’t you ever feel the need to settle, to return to your own home port of Liverpool, then restore that ruin of a house you mentioned?’

A frown puckered his brow. ‘It’s true that one day I should – probably must – do exactly that. Until that day dawns, and I trust it will be long in coming as I have no wish for my father to die, then I intend to enjoy my freedom to explore this beautiful world.’

There was a short pause while I considered this remark. Was he warning me, I wondered, that this friendship, this budding romance, if that’s what it was, would be transient? That after a time he would move on and forget all about me. Isn’t that what sailors did all the time? Disappointment settled in my stomach like a lump of cold porridge.