The Promise (26 page)

And over all lay a brooding air of silence.

I’d never witnessed anything like it. With not enough water to fight it, and the dynamite blasts to create firebreaks often making matters worse as surrounding buildings couldn’t be damped down, the fire had swept the entire district below Sansome. We heard that it had jumped Kearny then devoured Chinatown, gobbling up shops and houses with their pretty balconies with as much ease as it did the paper lanterns and carved wooden dragons which gave the district its unique character.

Hand in hand, we stumbled on. As did hundreds of others, many dragging their trunks and luggage, their children and themselves, up and down San Francisco’s unforgiving hills, only to meet a wall of flame at the top and have to run for their lives in the opposite direction, often leaving everything behind.

The fire scorched down the corridors of Frisco’s long streets, destroying all in its path and leaving gutted ruin in its wake. The very heat of the flames cracked solid stone, crumbled great pillars, and bent iron and steel into a newly sculpted art form.

Finally we reached Union Square where we managed to grab a few hours’ sleep huddled together on the grass, along with our fellow refugees. The lucky ones slept
in government tents, cooking supper on stoves they’d salvaged from their homes.

‘No point in trying for the ferry yet,’ they told us. ‘The roads are blocked all around with hundreds of refugees desperate to get a boat for Oakland.’

‘And the authorities are being hampered by crowds of sightseers pouring off the ferry,’ someone else put in. ‘Coming to gawp at the scenes of horror and cluttering up the roads and sidewalks. “Earthquake tourists”, they’re calling them. And tempers are growing ugly.’

I had no wish to have Mama caught up in an affray, and my fragile sister was suffering yet another fit of weeping that might never stop. I thought her close to a breakdown and certainly too exhausted to walk another yard. It seemed that for now we must stay put.

Ten days later we had set up camp in Golden Gate Park. The fires had died at last, leaving our city a smoking ruin, in parts little more than heaps of ash. Some streets were already being cleared of rubble and trailing wires, burst pipes mended, but few buildings were safe to enter, so here we were, sleeping in makeshift shelters or governmentissued tents, our throats parched with the acrid taint of smoke, our clothes blackened. Every morning I would stand patiently in the bread queue while Prue did the same in the soup line, and Maura would go off to find a grocery store that might be open and bargain for a scrap of meat or fish. Even if she was successful the task always took her hours, but she was so restless she persisted in her daily search, quite unable to sit still.

Mama sat beneath a piece of corrugated iron atop a pile of boxes and broken chairs, demanding that Prudence, Maura and myself wait on her hand, foot and finger, in lieu of the servants she’d lost.

‘I am bored with fish soup,’ she would complain, as if we might conjure up a little caviar for her instead.

‘And do find me a proper bed, dear. I really cannot tolerate lying on this heap of old coats for much longer.’

‘There are no beds, Mama. The fire burnt them all, remember?’

‘Then something must be done. There are plenty of troops around – ask one of them.’

‘I believe they have more important things to do with their time,’ I patiently explained. ‘Are you cold, Mama, would you like to borrow my shawl?’ I was worried as her skin was flushed and she had a persistent cough. Maura had managed to buy her some linctus, yet it persisted, growing steadily worse, and I wasn’t sure if I was the only one to notice that the scraps of fabric I’d torn from my petticoat for her to use as handkerchiefs, were stained with blood. She winced occasionally when she moved, and was having problems breathing. I suspected she’d been injured in some way during the quake, and was dealing with the pain in her usual stalwart fashion, by not complaining but becoming increasingly crotchety.

‘I cannot get a moment’s sleep with these noisy neighbours. Do ask them to be quiet, dear. I have one of my heads coming on.’

Our ‘noisy neighbours’ were a jolly Jewish family who had managed to salvage their piano from the wreckage
of their home and were now entertaining everyone on this cool April evening with a rendition of ‘John Brown’s Body’ and ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’. The quality of the playing would not have impressed Papa one bit, but was keeping everyone’s spirits high. I was certainly not going to ask them to be quiet. But I was beginning to think we needed to take my mother to a doctor.

‘No, Mama, I can’t do that. They generously allow us to use their stove, whether heating water in a tin can for your coffee, or cooking any food we manage to buy with our rapidly diminishing funds. Let me stroke your head for you.’

‘And that’s another thing,’ she complained. ‘Prices are quite outrageous. I believe some grocery stores are shamelessly profiteering, putting up prices to ridiculous levels. We should complain.’

I had to agree with her there, but again had to soothe her as the outburst brought on a fit of coughing.

‘They say the government is taking measures to stop that,’ Prudence tried to reassure her, but to no avail. Once Mama was in one of her moods, nothing we said would improve it, and for once she might have good reason.

What she failed to see in her despair was the spirit of good neighbourliness that was evident all around us, the courage and ingenuity of our fellow refugees as they instinctively built themselves shelter out of whatever they could find: broken window shutters and fire-blackened doors, tables covered with blankets, beds made out of torn sofa cushions and old coats. San Francisco had turned into a shanty town. People had nothing, and we seemed to
have less than most, apart from Mama’s emerald necklace which she wore constantly, hidden beneath her dirty clothing.

Yet children still played on the grass thinking it all some jolly picnic, women furnished their nests, and men fetched and carried without complaint, rigorously making plans for a new future. The old and sick were tended and cared for, and food and water shared equally with all and sundry. It was heart-warming to see how goodness and humanity prevailed.

Somehow or other, we had all learnt to cope in our own way.

‘Look at me,’ Prue said, her voice filled with pride. ‘I’m cooking crab.’

‘Indeed, Mrs Sharpe would be proud of you. Well done, dearest.’ I said nothing of my own first efforts at cooking crab cake at Pete’s Place on the Barbary Coast. I hardly dared to think of that time, or my longing now for Ellis.

All day and every day I looked for him. I’d been convinced that he would be here, in the park, waiting for me. But as there were thousands of people in this ramshackle oasis, I could not find him. It was an impossible task, but I stoutly refused to believe that he might be dead. How could he be when I loved him so?

Much as I might try to be the practical sensible one, I could feel my child kicking and moving within me, and dared not consider what was going to happen when the time came for it to be born, which could be any day now. I certainly no longer felt able to trek to the ferry.

‘How will we ever get Mama out of here?’ I asked,
when, after criticising the overcooked crab, she’d fallen into an uneasy slumber, her once lovely face creased with anxiety and pain.

We three girls were sitting listening to the music, savouring the peaceful stillness of the night as I told them my fears. ‘She is seriously ill. We need to get her to the ferry, to a hospital.’

‘Are you planning on leaving yourself?’ Maura asked.

I shook my head. ‘Not yet. There’s something – someone – I need to find first.’

She nodded, glancing briefly at Prue but not betraying my secret, although I could see she understood exactly to whom I referred. ‘I’ll take Mrs Briscoe to the ferry, if you like,’ she offered. ‘I have one or two errands of my own to make.’

I looked at her, half in surprise and half in gratitude. My one-time Irish maid was still a mystery to me. She had not revealed where she had been staying these last months, nor why she should suddenly take it into her head to rush to protect Mama’s jewels. Could I trust her? I had little choice in the circumstances. ‘That’s most generous of you, Maura, but I’m curious to know what sort of errands you could possibly have.’

That shuttered look came over her face again. ‘You think I have no life of my own, just that of your maid?’

‘You aren’t my maid anymore, but my companion and very dear friend. At least I hope you are. And of course I think you have a life of your own.’

I just wondered what it was.

There was a small silence while I waited for her to explain, then her lips curled into a private little smile. ‘I
have things to do, people to check on. It won’t take long. There’s talk of navy hospital ships arriving alongside the Embarcadero, with surgeons and nurses on board, tending the sick before transporting them to safety. I’ll see Mrs Briscoe safely on to one of those. We can go first thing in the morning, if you like.’

‘Bless you, I’d be most grateful.’ I turned to my sister. ‘What about you, Prue? Will you go with her?’

‘No, I shall stay with you. You’ll need someone with you when the baby is born.’

I rather thought I’d prefer Maura as a practical assistant in such circumstances, but could hardly fling my sister’s kindness back in her face. In any case, I welcomed her company and had no wish to be left alone to face the ordeal. ‘You are a sweet girl, the best sister anyone could have,’ I said, hugging her.

They left shortly after dawn, a lavender-pink light struggling to break through the grey mist that still hung like a pall over the city.

Mama protested a little about the fact I refused to accompany her, but not too much once I promised her that I would go, that very day, to the first-aid centre set up in the Pavilion. Even so, Prudence and I wept a little as she hurried away with Maura, not knowing when, or if, we might see our mother again. But at least she would be in safe hands with the navy.

We did as we’d promised, and saying farewell to our good neighbours set out to seek medical help at the makeshift hospital. But we never did reach the Pavilion. Instead, I found Ellis.

So excited were we at finding each other again that we both started talking at once, then unable to help ourselves we hugged and kissed, oblivious of Prue watching
wide-eyed
. Ellis said how he’d looked for me everywhere, and having failed to find me, had been working with the authorities: damping down fires, delivering food and blankets, whatever he could do to help. When he ran out of breath, I explained that my father had not survived the quake, how we four women had found shelter in the park, and how Maura had taken my sick mother to the hospital ships that very morning. Then I calmly announced that Kemp was dead.

He stared at me in disbelief, as well he might. This was the last thing we’d expected when we’d contemplated the difficulties of my procuring a divorce. But then the world had changed overnight.

He said not a word, but I shall never forget the look of complete disapproval on Prue’s face as he kissed me, holding me in his arms with such loving relief I believed he might never let me go. ‘I thought
you
were dead,’ he said at last, squeezing the very breath of life out of me that he’d just rejoiced in finding, making me giggle with joy.

‘Oh, ye of little faith,’ I teased. ‘I knew in my heart I would find you again, my love.’

He smiled. ‘Didn’t I say our time was yet to come? We were destined to be together, you and I.’

And keeping hold of his arm, I turned to my sister with a smile. ‘Don’t look so cross, dearest. Not all marriages are happy ones, and mine most certainly wasn’t.’

Twin spots of colour glowed in her cheeks. ‘You betrayed Drew?’

‘Not before he had committed what can only be described as the worst of sins, and all hope was lost of there ever being happiness between us.’

‘What could he possibly have done that is worse than adultery?’

I winced at the word, accurate as it might be. ‘He slept with prostitutes,’ I told her bluntly, seeing no other answer would serve.

She blenched, every vestige of colour leaving her lovely face. ‘It’s not true. How can you say such a thing?’

I put my arms about her, giving her a warm hug. ‘I’m afraid it is true. You are such a romantic, sweetheart, and I do not intend to fill your lovely head with gruesome descriptions of all my husband’s sins, which were legion.
You must simply trust me that the marriage was doomed from the start, and you know that I have always loved Ellis.’ I gazed lovingly into his face. ‘I did my duty to Kemp. Now, nothing and no one will keep us apart.’

As if to reinforce this point, Ellis smoothed a hand gently over my swollen belly. ‘There are plenty of hasty marriages going on right now, for a whole variety of reasons – sometimes because people have nowhere to live and are obliged to share a house, lovemaking in the face of death; or they’ve lost all their family and loved ones. People are clinging together and celebrating their survival by starting a new life. So must we. If this child is to have a father, and a name when it is born, then we should find a priest quickly and do the same.’

And in the middle of the sidewalk, in amongst the rubble, with passers-by stopping and smiling, he went down on one knee and proposed. ‘I have loved you since first I set eyes on you, darling Georgia, and would be honoured if you would agree to become my wife.’

‘Oh, yes, please,’ I cried, kissing him, and our unexpected audience burst into an impromptu applause.

We were married within the hour, standing on the steps of St Mary’s Cathedral on Van Ness Avenue, as it still wasn’t safe to enter the church. Fortunately, the building had miraculously been saved from total destruction through the valiant determination of a team of helpers wielding endless buckets of water. But our hasty marriage wasn’t a moment too soon. The familiar words of ‘I do’ had hardly left my lips when I felt the first nagging shaft of pain in my back.

Smiling up into my new husband’s face I asked him how long he thought it would take us to get to the Pavilion.

‘Why?’

‘Because I believe I’m about to go into labour.’

I gave birth on a mattress on a straw-strewn floor, while doctors and nurses bustled about using their skill and patience to help those who still hadn’t been shipped out, despite being close to collapse from exhaustion themselves. Operating tables stood empty now, but dressings and medication were still laid out with clinical precision, together with enamel pans and basins, and all manner of instruments. I couldn’t have had better care, and I thought no woman in the world was more fortunate than I. I had escaped death, and, despite the difficulties, the birth had gone smoothly.

My mother, however, had been less fortunate. She’d died within moments of reaching the waterfront. Maura had been with her to offer what comfort she could in Mama’s final hour. Prue and I wept at our loss, preferring to remember our mother in her heyday, when she’d ruled the roost at Geary Boulevard with style and panache. And dearest Papa too. They had always been stern parents, but not unloving.

Now, almost a week later, we were about to embark on our new life in England.

It had been agreed that Prue and Maura would come with us. The house on Geary Boulevard was nothing more than a burnt-out shell, so there seemed little reason for
any of us to remain in Frisco. Tickets had been bought, plans put in place, and here we now were, standing at the ship’s rail, waiting for the tide. And for Maura still to arrive. Prudence was carrying the baby. I had a bag of food and clothing for it, and Ellis was loaded down with whatever else we’d managed to salvage to make the journey more comfortable. We made a bedraggled but contented little party.

My eyes kept scanning the crowded quay, worrying Maura might be too late and miss the boat. Where was it she went on these mysterious errands of hers? The ship’s hooter sounded, ropes were being untied; any moment now they would raise the anchor and we’d set sail.

‘Oh, here she is,’ I cried, suddenly seeing her hurrying up the gangplank. ‘Thank goodness for that. Where have you been, you silly girl? I thought you might miss the boat.’

She came running along the deck, a large bundle strung across her back. All her worldly possessions, no doubt. She stopped before us, quite out of breath, but her next words took my own breath away. ‘I’ve come to say goodbye.’

I stared at her in disbelief. ‘Goodbye?’

‘I’ve decided to stay. You were right, I do have a soft spot for John, our driver. We’ve been secretly walking out for some time. What’s more he’s asked me to marry him. So I intend to stay on in Frisco.’

‘Oh, Maura, I’m so pleased for you.’ I hugged her warmly, delighted that my erstwhile companion had found happiness at last. I wanted everyone to be as happy
as me. I was free, about to begin the new life with Ellis we had so long desired. Let everyone be as joyous. ‘But will you be all right? What will you do?’

‘We’ve decided the city will resurrect itself better than ever, and we’ll find other employment.’

‘Oh, but I shall miss you. We haven’t always seen eye to eye, you and I, but we muddled through, eh? You must promise to come and visit us one day in the English Lake District.’

‘I would love to, but there’s a problem. A couple, actually.’

I frowned. ‘What sort of problem?’

‘There’s something you need to know, but first let me give you this.’ And she handed over my mother’s jewel box. ‘I dug it up for you. You’ll need them in this new life of yours.’

‘Oh, Maura, how kind of you. I’d thought them lost forever, my mother’s heritage.’ Tears filled my eyes, and I hugged her in warm gratitude. ‘But you must have something too, a memento of us all.’

‘No, no,’ she demurred. ‘I don’t deserve anything, really.’

‘Of course you do.’ I was rummaging through my mother’s diamonds and sapphires, rubies and pearls. Prudence was already wearing Mama’s emerald necklace, hidden beneath several layers of clothing. ‘Here, take this turquoise brooch, it’s so pretty and will suit your colouring.’

She kept shaking her head, even as I pinned it to the collar of her coat. ‘You need to see this,’ she said, and
opening the bundle, to my complete astonishment she brought out a baby, sound asleep, and put it into my arms. I gazed upon the small face, bemused. ‘This is my baby,’ she said. ‘Drew’s and mine, cared for by a friend.’

I stared at her, uncomprehending, the shouts of the crew making ready to sail fading to nothing in my shock. ‘Yours? Yours and …’

She nodded, giving a little self-deprecating shrug. ‘Drew Kemp wasn’t an easy man to refuse, and I think it all went to my head a bit: playing mistress of the house. And there is a charisma about him.’

If that was true, I confess I’d never discovered it. I couldn’t even understand why my own sister bothered to waste her charms on him. ‘So that’s why you went away, to have the baby?’

She half smiled. ‘You never guessed?’

‘Not for a minute, though it seems obvious now.’

‘And what does John think of all this?’ The question came from Ellis who was regarding Maura with some sympathy.

‘Well, that’s the problem, to be sure. If I’m to marry John, I can’t keep it. He loves me, but I haven’t told him about the baby. He’d never accept it, do you see? Not another man’s child. I want you to take it.’

‘
Me
?’ I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, what she was asking of me. This girl, my Irish maid, had slept with my husband, given birth to his child, and now wanted me to relieve her of the burden of it so that she could marry her sweetheart. Ellis had started to say something about the ship making ready to sail, that if she was to stay in
Frisco she should disembark now, but he too was struck silent, standing paralysed with shock. He looked at the child in my arms, so soft and vulnerable, a fragile new life, then at me, a question in his eyes. And the kind of warm understanding for Maura’s situation that I’d come to expect from this man. I was less forgiving.

‘You cannot be serious, Maura. This is your child, your own flesh and blood. How can you give it away? You must love it?’

She was shaking her head. ‘I made sure I didn’t. I left all the caring to my friend so I wouldn’t get to feel anything for it. I want to marry John, d’you see? It’s my best chance. I love him and don’t want to lose him. It’ll be hard enough starting again, without explaining to him all that went on. Let this child be part of a proper family in England, with you. You’ll do right by it, I know you will. I’ve done a lot for you, Georgia, over the years. Do this one thing for me.’

She’d used my given name, as if we were equals now in the face of disaster, which I suppose we were. The world,
my
world, seemed to have flipped upside down, and I was helpless to stop whatever was happening as everything I’d once known tumbled about me. I was struck speechless and again turned to Ellis, seeking his opinion, his help. But before we had time to even discuss the matter we both realised that Maura had still more shocking news for us.

‘There’s something more. Kemp is alive.’

I swayed on my feet, and it was not caused by the lurch of the ship. Ellis’s arms came about me, as if fearful I might fall. There was a pounding in my head
now, a drumming of sound that blocked out all sensible thought. But my voice, when I found it, was little more than a whisper. ‘What did you say?’

‘Kemp is
alive
?’ This squeal of delight came from my sister, of all people.

Ellis’s face was chalk white. ‘Are you absolutely certain?’

‘The iron bedstead saved him. He was rescued suffering only superficial wounds and a sprained ankle, which has now been strapped up, and he’s fine. He apparently spent hours attempting to salvage his prized belongings before being forced back by the flames. I’ve seen him. That’s who I’ve been visiting these last weeks.’

‘Oh, my God! Did you tell him about me, that I too had survived?’ I asked, the familiar fear exploding in my chest.

‘No,’ Maura shook her head. ‘I lied for you, Georgia. But then I’ve done that before, haven’t I?’

I was struggling to take this all in, the full implications only just starting to penetrate my befuddled brain. I was married to Ellis now. But how could I be if Kemp wasn’t dead? I turned to him, leaned into his strength. ‘I can’t lose you now. We have to stick to our plans. I can’t stay here. I won’t go back to him.’

He held me close, the babe tucked between us, but his eyes were on Maura. ‘We have no objection to caring for your child, Maura, if it will help you find happiness with John, and you’re sure that’s what you want.’

‘I’m sure.’ Her gaze was steady, and as unreadable as ever.

‘But I ask you, for Georgia’s sake, not to tell Kemp that you have seen us. You owe her that much at least.’

I felt as if I were burning up inside, my gaze scorching hers as I begged for my own happiness, my life. ‘All I ask is that you don’t ever tell him I’m alive.’

‘I won’t tell, I promise.’

‘Thank you.’

A sailor approached Maura. ‘If you’re leaving, ma’am, you’d best go now.’

Then my Irish maid put her arms about me and hugged me. ‘Thank you, Georgia. I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me, for my child. Keep her safe.’ There were tears in her eyes, and in ours, as we bid goodbye, watched her walk away down the gangplank. Only when she’d gone did I turn around, seeking my sister’s support. But I couldn’t see her anywhere. ‘Where’s Prue?’ Feeling a sudden prick of panic, I cried out. ‘Where is she? Where’s my sister, and my child?’

‘There she is,’ Ellis suddenly cried out, his voice filled with alarm. Prudence was hurrying down the gangplank, our son in her arms.

‘I’m staying too,’ she shouted. ‘I’m going to Drew. I love him, always have. You betrayed him, and he deserves better.’

‘My
child
!’ I screamed. I started forward but I was hampered by the baby in my arms. Ellis ran the length of the deck, shouting to the sailors to stop the ship, to let out the gang plank again, but it was too late. Prudence was already standing on the quay, the gap of water between ship and shore gradually widening, yawning before us like a chasm.

‘He’s
my
child now,’ she shouted up to me. ‘You’ve always had everything: husband, child, lover. Now it’s
my
turn. You know how much Drew wants a son, and I know he wouldn’t want me unless I can give him one. I’ll let him think this child is his, yours and his. And I promise I’ll not tell him where you are, or ask anything more of you, ever!’ Then she turned and ran.