The Promise (21 page)

‘When was that?’

‘Nay, it’s too long ago to put a date on it. I’d just come out of a bedroom on to the landing, my arms full of dirty laundry, when I heard his voice below. He and your grandmother were talking in the hall. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, exactly, as their voices were quite low, but they seemed very earnest, almost urgent. Later, when I heard the young couple had gone off to San Francisco, I assumed that must have been the subject of the discussion. But at the time I didn’t think they were having a row. I did hear Mrs Cowper say, “I want her kept safe, the baby too, that’s all I ask.” Then she put her arms about him and they embraced, just a brief hug but friendly enough. After which he left and Mrs Cowper leant against the door and wept a little. I remember feeling rather sorry for her and hurrying down to make her a cup of coffee, black and sweet, just how she liked it, and a slice of her favourite coffee cake.’

‘How odd. That doesn’t sound at all the way you might expect a disapproving mother-in-law to behave.’ Chrissie thoughtfully sipped her tea, which had gone a little cold, so she allowed Mrs Gorran to top it up for her. ‘Did she ever speak of that conversation to you?’

‘No, dear, not a word.’ Mrs Gorran reached for a slice
of her excellent shortbread, offered one to Chrissie, which she reluctantly declined, being full to bursting with good food. ‘She rarely speaks of private matters, or of that time, although she does sometimes mention the earthquake, and the fire.’

‘Earthquake? Goodness, I didn’t know about that. Was it serious?’

‘Oh, I believe it was, yes, very serious. Happened in 1906. Mrs Cowper says it changed everything.’

‘Oh, tell me more. What has she said about the earthquake?’

‘I’m not sure it’s my place. Happen Mrs Cowper should tell you herself.’

Back in the library Georgia settled in her favourite chair by the fire, eyes closed, thankful her son had at last left her in peace and gone off to telephone his adoring, ambitious wife. Dearest Clare was already threatening to catch the next train down to ‘talk some sense into her’, which made Georgia shudder at the prospect of further lengthy lectures. Yet, what did it matter? What did anything matter? Who could one trust these days? Certainly not your own family, and perhaps not even a young woman who pretended to be friendly and interested in you.

The girl had apologised for her deceit, which was something, even if her words and attitude had not impressed Ryall. And it made perfect sense that the idea for subterfuge would come from Vanessa, rather than from her. But she’d lost her lovely daughter long since, and had no wish to remember the pain of that parting.
She’d made such a mess of everything. Got it all wrong. Though even now she wasn’t sure what would have been the right thing to do.

Now there was this new grandchild. Did she want to lose her too? What a pity that had gone badly wrong. And she’d seemed such a nice, open, friendly girl. Could she trust her, that was the question? What was she after? Was she really only trying to bring about a family reunion, or were her motives deeper and less honourable, as Ryall suggested?

‘If only you were here to advise me, Ellis. I must consider what you might have said, or thought, of all of this.’

In seconds she was smiling, her mind slipping back to the past, to Frisco, her heart filled with love for her darling Ellis. And when the door quietly opened and Chrissie appeared, she reached out a hand to beckon her in.

It wasn’t the same room where they’d taken Prudence. This time, rather than a beer hall, it was situated at the end of a dark courtyard, behind a Chinese laundry. I could hear the chatter of foreign tongues, which I presumed to be speaking Mandarin, as my captors pushed me up a rickety staircase ahead of them. My heart was pounding and my brain racing, but coming up with no answers as to how I could escape this place. Not even Maura knew where I was, and I had little hope that my husband would care what these men did to me. Still only in my night attire, I was shaking with cold.

As we entered, I was again overwhelmed by a
sickly-sweet
, slightly nutty scent. I’d gone to bed early but it must have been almost midnight by this time and I could see, even in the dim light, that the room was full. The walls were lined with what looked like wide wooden shelves or
bunks, and on each lay the prone figure of a man. Many, but by no means all, were Chinamen dressed in blue tunics, with long pigtails, and white stockings on their feet. Each bunk had a tray attached, upon which stood a small lamp, ivory box and long-stemmed pipe. As my abductor pushed me into a chair and started to bind my hands, exactly as he had done with Prue, the one nearest to me dug out a small piece of soft paste from a box and held it on the end of a wire to the flame until it solidified in some way. Then he stuffed it into the tiny stone bowl of his pipe and inhaled through the long bamboo stem, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs and blowing it out again down his nostrils.

I recoiled, horrified by what I had just witnessed, knowing how the drug would leave a trail of poison in its wake. This was far worse than what Prue had been subjected to. I looked about me, desperate for help, but none of the other occupants took the slightest notice of me. They were too occupied smoking their pipes, some insensible already.

‘Havee smokee?’ the man asked, happily beaming a lopsided grin as he offered me the pipe.

‘No, thank you,’ I gasped. My hands were clammy with cold sweat, and I was deeply afraid he might force me to take part in this fatal game. Fortunately, his eyes instantly glazed over, the pipe drooped in his hand and his head fell back as he sank into a doped stupor. I wondered if he was even breathing.

My weasel-like abductor, his bald head shaped rather like a bullet, had by this time got me firmly anchored to
the chair, even tying my ankles together. Any hope of escape instantly died.

His larger friend said, ‘Keep your mouth shut and be a good girl, if you know what’s good for you. If you’re lucky, your rich husband will cough up the necessary dough tomorrow.’

I almost said I very much doubted that would happen, but thought better of it. I could be signing my own death warrant if this pair ever got the idea that holding me would be a waste of their time. God knows what they would do to me if Kemp didn’t appear on the morrow. I could only pray that even my heartless husband would find a modicum of decency and do what he could to get me released.

The pair left then, and the hours ticked slowly by in what turned out to be the longest night of my life. I was in bleak despair, every minute feeling like an hour, my fears and hopes see-sawing as the night wore on, till finally the pink of dawn crept around the edges of the partly shuttered windows.

My doped companions slowly began to wake, tottering away one by one like sleepwalkers. I called after them, ‘Fetch help, please. Untie me. Help!’ None replied, or even appeared to hear. Gradually the room emptied and I was left alone, silently weeping, in total despair. And then I heard the clatter of boots on the step and the door opened.

‘Thought you might be hungry.’ It was Weasel, as I’d mentally dubbed him, bringing me a bowl of steamed noodles, and tea, all set out neatly on a tray. I was deeply
touched. He even untied my hands so that I could eat and drink in comfort.

‘I’m most grateful,’ I told him, and was, for his kindness if nothing else. Yet I didn’t for a moment trust him, wondering why he bothered, and what his plans were for me.

He perched himself on the edge of the table as if ready to talk. ‘I remember you now. You’re that spunky gal with the gun who dared to outface Big Billy. Put the wind up him good and proper, you did. Gave me a good laugh afterwards when I realised the gun wasn’t loaded. Took guts, that did. You ’minds me of my sister, Pol, she’s a spunky lass too.’

I began to breathe more easily at the compliment, and tucked into the food, realising I was ravenous. ‘A gal has to do what a gal has to do,’ I joked, and he laughed.

‘So now you’re married to Drew Kemp, eh?’

‘I am, more’s the pity,’ I muttered.

‘Ah, he’s not your idea of love’s young dream, then?’

‘Not at all.’

He wanted to know how it had all come about, and, since I was grateful for his company and his generosity, I told him, sparing no details.

‘That sounds about right,’ he said, nodding, as if he understood far more than I. ‘Kemp is good at disposing of the competition, both personal and in business matters. Your friend had a lucky escape if he only got shipped out on a clipper. It could’ve been much worse. I’m sorry a nice young lady such as yourself has got caught up in this mess.’

Smiling, I sipped the hot green tea, which was most
welcome, and as we seemed to be mates by this time, dared to ask a question of my own. ‘So what’s your connection with my husband? Don’t worry, I know all about his acceptance of bribes in order to buy votes and get himself elected as mayor at the next election.’

My new friend refilled my teacup from the little pot on the tray, then glanced nervously over his shoulder before telling his tale. It was as I had thought. My husband was heavily involved in fraudulent practices and corruption. If the crimps wanted to continue their business without interference it was in their interests to hand over large portions of their profits to Kemp.

‘Kemp is heavily into protection rackets – charges a monthly retainer, cash only, no paperwork or receipts, in return for favours. If it’s called a retainer for services rendered, the theory is it’s not illegal. There’s plenty like him in this town,’ said my friend, who’d now revealed his name as Eddie. ‘But Kemp is one of the big guys. He’s hand in glove with some of the worst crimps in the opium trade, taking his cut of every shipment that comes in to the bay. He also grants liquor licences, in return for “retainers”, for them “French” restaurants, so-called not for the food but for what goes on upstairs on the top floor. Everything has a price, and Kemp’s the guy who fixes it.’

‘I see.’ I was, in fact, beginning to understand a great deal about my husband. Information which may well prove useful. Eddie talked for some time, naming names, filling me in on the secret side of my husband’s life. But it was my own situation which most occupied my mind
right now. I cast my new friend what I hoped was an appealing look, though I was so desperately afraid I had no need to manufacture tears – they were already welling in my eyes. ‘Eddie, the honest truth is that I have no great faith my husband will come and rescue me, or pay this extra cash, whatever it is. What will happen to me? What am I to do?’

He grinned at me. ‘That’s why
I’m
here. I’m right sorry I dragged you into this. I admired you the first time we met. You’ll be a real handsome woman one day, when you’ve done growing up. I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you, gal, any more’n I would our Pol. I thought you could slip out while Billy is busy eating his breakfast.’ He was untying my ankles now and hope bloomed in my breast.

‘Won’t he blame you if I just disappear? I would be sorry if he did.’

Weasel, or Eddie as I should call him now, shook his head in disbelief. ‘D’you know, that’s the nicest thing anyone ever said to me since my ma died. What a lovely gal you are, a real lady. But don’t you worry about me none, I’ll blame it on your companions of the night. I’ll say they were so far gone they were quite capable of doing anything you asked of them. Now get you gone. Once you’re out of here, remember, you’re on your own.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll cope. I’m an independent sort of gal.’

He grinned at me, acknowledging this with a nod of his bullet-shaped head. ‘Keep back,’ he instructed as he opened the door a crack, then poked his head out to
check if the coast was clear. ‘OK, quiet as you can. Go!’

I didn’t need telling twice. I popped a quick kiss on his cheek then flew down the steps on my tiptoes and fled.

Within a couple of hours I was back in my own bed, Maura by my side with a tray of hot chocolate, a plate of oat muffins, and a consoling smile on her face. ‘As if Kemp would ever leave you in that place. I’m surprised you didn’t have more faith in your husband.’

I looked up at her, wondering if I did indeed know this woman. She’d become like a stranger to me, and yet because she knew my secret, one whom I relied upon entirely. It was a most disturbing sensation. ‘I wasn’t about to hang around and wait to find out. I saw my chance and ran for it. Anyway, has my husband ever given me reason to trust him?’ I asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. But it was pointless arguing with her, nor with Kemp when later he came to check on me.

‘Serves you right for interfering in matters which do not concern you,’ was his predictable response, with not a word of praise for effecting my own escape. ‘What the hell were you doing wandering about the house in your night things anyway? You should learn to keep your prying nose out of my affairs. And what the hell is all this nonsense about you moving bedrooms? You’ll move back into the marital bed, where you belong, this very day or rue the consequences.’

I ignored the threat. One thing I had learnt during the long night with the Chinamen, who had in no way molested me but taken their pleasure in private without
interfering with anyone, was that I was much stronger than I’d realised. And I had learnt a great deal from my friend Eddie.

Now I faced my husband with new courage. ‘I am fully aware of your involvement in – what do they call it? – graft. Corruption, I believe, is rife in Frisco politics right now, and you are one of the worst offenders, or so I’m reliably informed.’

‘Who told you that? Absolute rubbish.’ But I could see he was startled.

‘Never mind who. Hardly matters, does it? I
know
, that’s the point.’

Kemp’s upper lip curled, as it so often did, matching his caustic thoughts. ‘Who the hell do you think you are? You know nothing.’

I smiled. ‘I know enough. I can name names, point fingers in the right places, make your life very difficult indeed. I can put a stop, in fact, to all your plans and dreams, should I choose to do so. You admitted to me yourself that you took bribes in order to win votes to have yourself elected as mayor, only you didn’t quite get enough and lost. No doubt you hope this year will be different. And running for office must cost a packet these days, so a few favours here and there has a double benefit. Cash in hand, and election as mayor at some point.’

His rage was such now that his face had diffused to a deep purple. But my husband was no fool. Tight-lipped, he asked, ‘So what is all this leading up to? What is it you want?’

‘My freedom, of course. But I can see that a divorce
right now wouldn’t help your political prospects one bit. I’m prepared to wait, at least for a little while. But it will be on
my
terms, which I now feel in a position to make. It’s quite simple: leave me alone, or I’ll spill the beans and tell everyone what you’re up to.’

I stayed where I was while Kemp took a room on the floor above, conveniently closer to Maura. The new arrangement worked fine so far as I was concerned. And as I pointed out to my husband, there wouldn’t be a breath of scandal as no one would be any the wiser. The reward for my patience and silence, he agreed, would be paid in full with a divorce, once he’d achieved his aim and become mayor of the city.

In truth, I had no intention of waiting that long, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

From that moment on I considered my marriage to be at an end. I could not live with a man who made use of prostitutes, who exploited those less fortunate than himself, and who cheated and took bribes in order to win yet more power. I had done my best to be a good wife to him, and he had rewarded my effort by abusing me. Not that the marriage had much hope from the start. It wasn’t a wife Drew Kemp wanted, but a slave. The only solution was to somehow break free from the chains that bound me.

To do that I needed advice on how to procure a divorce, but my husband was so well known in the city, and so powerful, that I dare not seek out an attorney. I had to find some other way of escape. At least to begin with. I didn’t
trust him an inch, and held little hope of him keeping his word in our bargain.

Ellis and I began to meet regularly, albeit in secret.

Maura would let me out of a side door the moment Kemp was out of the house, or in a meeting, promising to keep him distracted should he re-emerge, so that he would not miss me. Then, leaving her to get on with her new role of mistress of my marital home, I would slip away to see my lover. I knew it was wrong, and it wasn’t a comfortable situation to be in, rather one filled with danger. But I was young still, and deeply in love. I was also fully aware that the hold I had on Kemp would not last for ever, and could endanger others by my seeming acceptance of his corruptive practices.

Our long-term plan was to escape to Ellis’s home in England, which was far enough away for even Kemp’s reach to be blocked. But how to achieve that?

For now I was content simply to be in Ellis’s arms. He would kiss me and I would feel the sweetness of his love run through me like fire. Summer was upon us and we would walk in the Japanese Gardens, over the little bridges, watching the carp playing in the ponds, or visit the beautiful Victorian conservatory in the Botanical Gardens. Later we’d find somewhere off the beaten track and hide in the bushes, with not a scrap of shame in our daring caresses. Tasting, touching, exploring our love for each other, which grew with each passing day. His tongue would dance with mine, his hands fondle the curve of my breast, and I gloried in his touch. How could I not when I loved him so? Wanting him as much as I did was both
intoxicating and dangerous, yet not for a moment did I consider stopping seeing him. We took every opportunity to be together, savouring what we’d been denied for so long. He was a part of me, and I only felt whole when I was with him.