Chapter 51
Silas’s great rival on his home shores was the Fyfield Steamship Company, which ran a small fleet of banana boats between Jamaica and Bristol. He had hoped to have drummed them off the seas by now, but it seemed there was room for two international banana shippers, because Fyfield’s were no less of a presence at Port Antonio docks than Whittam & Co. It gave Eve some considerable satisfaction to tell Silas that, rather than wait for Pegasus to dock in a few days’ time she and Angus would sail home on the SS Avonmouth, a Fyfield vessel. It was in now, she said, and would leave tomorrow for Bristol.
‘You’d do that?’ he said. ‘You’d sail home on a cargo ship?’
‘I would and I will.’
‘Out of spite?’
‘No,’ she said, ‘out of expediency. I want to get back, and this is t’quickest way.’ It was perfectly true, though, that it gave her an occasional pulse of satisfaction to be sailing home without his help. The Fyfield captain had promised her a comfortable berth, though nothing like the standards of the Pegasus.
‘All said and done, it’s a banana boat, madam, not a passenger liner,’ he had said. Eve had told him that if all he could offer her was a seat on an upturned crate she would still prefer to sail with him tomorrow than wait. Also, she added privately, Silas would be on the Pegasus.
After she told him, he rallied swiftly, as was his style, and dismissed her from his office with a shrug of indifference. Then she and Angus walked to Eden Falls so that he could swim with Roscoe, and from there the three of them went to Ruby’s little blue and yellow painted house for lunch. For the first time in a long time, Ruby had given herself a day off; Batista, Precious and Patience were running the lunchtime service, which in any case was much simpler these days, since Mrs Beeton and her recipes had been jettisoned.
Ruby had stuffed and baked a yellow-tail snapper, and she served it whole on a long fish-shaped platter with rice and peas and pickled peppers. They ate outside, at a rough wooden table. It had recently rained, but now the sun blazed and behind them, steam rose up from the vegetation, and a loamy, fertile smell mingled with that of the garlicky fish. I need to remember moments like these, Eve thought. Angus licked his fingers and asked to get down, and Ruby said, ‘In a moment, because there’s something we have to say.’ Eve looked at her in surprise, but it was Roscoe who spoke.
‘We have decided, Ruby and me—’
‘Ruby and I,’ Ruby said.
‘Ruby and I, I mean, have decided that we would like to come with you,’ he said.
‘That is, if we are still welcome,’ Ruby added. Her heart was pounding at the enormity of what Roscoe had said with that handful of simple words.
‘Oh Ruby,’ Eve said. ‘Roscoe.’ She found herself unable to speak further, and it was partly happiness and partly an awakening of something far more complicated. She would be responsible for their wellbeing on the alien shores of England. Plus, they were strangers to Daniel, Eliza and Ellen. These darts of anxiety flew through her mind, but now she beamed at them and at Angus, who wasn’t following.
‘Gussy,’ she said. ‘Roscoe’s coming to live with you in Netherwood.’
His eyes stretched wide with astonishment. ‘You too?’ he said to Ruby.
‘Naturally,’ she said. ‘I go where he goes.’
He bounced off the bench and ran in circles around the table, then he stopped by Roscoe and said, ‘I can show you my house, and t’ponies on Netherwood Common.’
‘Where will we swim?’ Roscoe said, laughing, but Angus’s face fell as he remembered there were no Eden Falls in Netherwood, or anything even vaguely like it.
‘There’s a town pond,’ Eve offered, but she sounded unconvincing.
‘Oh well,’ Ruby said. ‘We’re going because it’s different, not because it’s the same.’
‘What about your lovely cottage?’
‘It will still be mine and will wait for me, should I need it. Bernard will keep the garden in check.’ If he didn’t, she thought, the house would be strangled by vines within a year. This was an upsetting image, and she banished it at once.
Eve felt she must speak. There was too much at stake to be anything other than honest. ‘Ruby,’ she said, ‘it’s wonderful that you’re coming, but—’
‘Please,’ Ruby said, somehow divining Eve’s meaning. ‘Don’t worry. You feel all our happiness will be in your hands, but you’re wrong. Roscoe and I will manage our own destinies. We’re simply hitching ourselves to your skirts for a short while.’
‘What made you change your mind?’
‘I said no without thinking,’ Ruby said. ‘And then, when I did think, I found my mind was far from made up on the matter.’
She smiled briskly, then twisted on her seat and reached behind her, and up, into a mango tree. ‘Cut this please, Roscoe,’ she said, and pulled on the fruit so that its branch came low enough for Roscoe to cut it loose with a knife. ‘Bombay mango,’ she said. ‘The very best kind.’
‘Better pack a few,’ Eve said. ‘They don’t grow where we live.’
But Ruby and Roscoe just laughed, as if they’d already eaten enough mangoes to last a lifetime. ‘It will be a fine adventure for us,’ Ruby said. ‘And it’s high time we had one.’
Ruby had already packed two suitcases: surprisingly small for such a long journey, but hers and Roscoe’s clothes didn’t amount to much. ‘We’ll go shopping,’ Eve said. ‘Take you both to Butterfield’s. You need more wool in your wardrobe.’ At least, she thought, it would still be summer when they arrived.
Silas had to be told, of course, but although Eve had dreaded the moment, he confounded her expectations. ‘Well, well,’ was all he said. ‘I do hope the pair of you know what you’re doing.’ He showed nothing more than a sort of bewildered concern; Eve was sure that Hugh had already mentioned the plan, giving Silas time to rehearse a reaction.
‘Will you manage without Ruby in t’kitchen?’ Eve asked. ‘I never meant to make things difficult.’
‘Didn’t you? How kind,’ he said. ‘We’ll be fine. Don’t give it another thought. Ruby Donaldsons are ten a penny in Port Antonio.’
She considered his words. ‘Don’t let that mean spirit get t’better of you,’ she said. ‘If you try to be kind, you might find you are.’
He gave a short laugh. ‘I am what I am. I know the heights I can reach and the depths I can plumb. Better, I think, to know what you’re capable of. Then one can never disappoint oneself.’
‘You’ve disappointed me, Silas.’
‘But Evie, you’re such an idealist. You set yourself up for disappointment. Look at you now: about to set sail with a Jamaican cook and her – my – pickney. What do you imagine will happen? Do you think you can force a happy ending through sheer willpower?’
‘I can try.’
‘I wish you all the luck in the world.’
‘Thank you. Be sure to call in, to see ’ow we’re getting on next time you’re in town.’ She was trying to match his disingenuous cordiality, but it didn’t suit her. It was high time she left, she thought; he was a bad influence, even on her.
‘I certainly will. And I hope the rest of your family like Ruby as much as you seem to. At any rate, I hope they like her more than Seth does.’
She left him, then, feeling as usual that she had come off worse in yet another battle. He knew exactly how to wound, exactly where to sink the dagger. Seth had been astonished when she had told him about Ruby and Roscoe: astonished, and then furious. His principal concern was a childish one: would either of them be given his room? Eve had almost laughed, but mercifully managed not to.
‘Seth, it’ll always be your room, whenever you want it,’ she said. When they had first moved there, Anna had painted a tree on one wall for him, with a different animal on each bough, and it was quite true that Eve had thought Roscoe might like it. Seth said, ‘That’s not what I asked. I asked would either of them be given my room?’
‘Well, I suppose Roscoe might ’ave it
when you’re not with us. It’s a long time since you’ve been ’ome, love.’
He had glowered at her. There was so much that she didn’t understand. If Roscoe was to be raised – with her help – as an English boy, with an English education and English manners, would Uncle Silas begin to see him differently? That the potential usurper of his position was to be given his childhood bedroom seemed horribly symbolic. He didn’t want Roscoe to be raised above his station. He wanted Roscoe exactly where he currently was.
‘Don’t take them, Mam,’ he said, but she didn’t understand.
‘Don’t worry, Seth,’ she said. ‘All will be well.’
‘No it won’t.’ But because he couldn’t explain, she ruffled his hair, kissed his cheek and left to finish her packing.
Eve made her farewells at the hotel, but Scotty, Maxwell and Batista all came to the docks to give the Donaldsons the noisy send-off they deserved. Batista sat down on a pile of grain sacks and sent direct word up to heaven for a safe crossing. Ruby kissed her fat cheeks and found they were wet.
‘Don’t cry, Batista,’ she said, although she was crying too. Batista clutched Ruby’s hands. ‘Take care chile,’ she said. ‘Trouble no set like rain.’
‘I know it’s not, and I will take care.’
‘I keep up a prayer fo’ you an de pickney.’
‘Thank you, Batista.’ She found herself grateful now for the old woman’s faith; found herself comforted. Then, when Batista released Ruby, Scotty and Maxwell got their hands on her; they each wrapped her in a squeeze and tried to make up for all the times they would have liked to do it but hadn’t dared. When Maxwell’s hands slid down towards her rear she pushed him away and said, ‘Thank you Maxwell, that’s enough,’ and he said, ‘Enough? Me no get started,’ and hooted with laughter, which helped, because suddenly the mood became merrier and even Batista’s face was transformed by a wide, slow smile at the final goodbye.
The SS Avonmouth was basic, but comfortable enough. On the Cassiopeia there had been a ballroom with crystal chandeliers and a dining room with walnut furniture and silver candelabra, but Eve didn’t miss them and Angus – who had Roscoe – didn’t notice. The crossing was uneventful, but then they lost a few days’ sailing due to a storm in the Bay of Biscay; the ship holed up in a small port in Northern Spain and they waited miserably for news that the waves had abated and the gales had dropped. Eve worried that the delay meant Daniel couldn’t know when the ship would dock. She worried that he’d worry. ‘At least we’re not caught up in the storm,’ Ruby said, looking on the bright side, ‘and we won’t starve: not on a banana boat.’
The boys were kept busy by the crew, who gave them jobs to do and called it fun. ‘They’ll be able seamen by the time we dock in Bristol,’ the quartermaster said, and it was true that Angus could manage a clove hitch and a slipknot even before they reached Spain, and Roscoe was a regular sight suspended on a boatswain’s chair, sanding rust from the metalwork of the ship’s high sides. ‘The seawater’s very corrosive,’ he told Eve and his mother with great authority. The two women began to feel quite useless by comparison. ‘Should we tell t’captain we can cook?’ Eve said. ‘Lord no,’ said Ruby. ‘We won’t see daylight again for the duration of the passage.’ Instead they stayed out of the way and talked for hours on end about England and Netherwood and Ravenscliffe, Eve all the while trying to convey her love for the place without overdoing it, so that Ruby, when she finally arrived, wouldn’t have to hide her disappointment.
They finally sailed into the Royal Edward Dock at Avonmouth three weeks and three days after leaving Port Antonio. Eve was awash with anxiety. As the Bristol Channel narrowed and the ship moved inexorably closer to dry land, she chewed her fingers and wondered what she’d done, and prayed for a warm reception for Ruby, who was so far from everything she knew. Ruby herself stood at the port-side rails and watched the city taking shape. It felt cold, so she had borrowed a shawl from Eve, but this was her only complaint; she shone with a sort of inner excitement and seemed to feel no fear.
‘Eve,’ she said. ‘Look!’
Eve joined her at the rail and followed her line of vision. There were three people on the wharf: three people quite clearly not sailors or stevedores. A man stood with a child on each side of him, one taller than the other but both of them jumping and waving wildly, their voices whipped by the wind and carried to Eve where she stood on the deck.
‘The rest of your family,’ Ruby said.
Eve fetched Angus, and showed him too. ‘Wave,’ she said. ‘Wave and shout. It’s your pa and the girls.’
Suddenly this homecoming felt real. Angus yelled so hard that he went red in the face and Eve joined in, so that then all that could be heard was each other, and she stopped and shushed him because she wanted to hear Eliza and Ellen again. It was wonderful to see them, wonderful to be back. More than wonderful. She felt like a crusader returned from the holy wars: she felt heroic, legendary. She turned to smile at Ruby and share the thrill, but found she had slipped away from the rails and was standing with Roscoe back at the funnel deck, away from view.
‘Ruby?’ Eve said, and held out her hand, but Ruby just smiled and shook her head. ‘This is your moment,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll follow.’
So after they’d dropped anchor, Eve and Angus descended the gangplank without them. The girls streamed forwards and they hugged and laughed, and tears poured down their faces. Ellen – stiff, awkward little Ellen – clung on to Eve like a spider monkey, with her legs as well as her arms, and Eliza cried and cried into Eve’s neck, although her principal emotion was overwhelming joy. Over the top of Eliza’s head Eve looked at Daniel, who had his boy in a bear hug, but was gazing at his wife, waiting his turn. She wriggled free, or at least free enough to move, and she stepped towards him so that he was able to reach with one arm and pull her close. He pressed his lips hard on top of her head and spoke into her hair.
‘My God,’ he said. ‘I thought we’d lost you.’ His voice cracked at the memory. She tipped her face up for a kiss and then said, ‘I’m so sorry,’ which sounded trite and inadequate, but was all she could muster. He shook his head, but couldn’t speak.
Ellen released her and said, ‘Mam?’
Eve looked down at her and smiled. ‘Yes?’
‘We’ve loads to tell you.’
‘And we’ve loads to tell you.’ At the edge of her vision she saw Ruby and Roscoe making their way tentatively down the gangplank, like guests late to a party and unsure of their welcome. ‘But first,’ Eve said, ‘there are two very important people that I’d like you to meet.’ She looked at them and beckoned them over. Angus trotted across to Roscoe and hung on to his arm, claiming him.
‘Roscoe and Ruby,’ Angus said to everyone. ‘My best friends.’
Ruby held out a slender hand and Daniel took it.
‘My name is Ruby Donaldson,’ she said. ‘I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance.’ Behind her, Roscoe risked a cautious smile at the girls. They stared at him until they were told to say hello. If they seemed a little mechanical, a little sluggish with their welcome, it had nothing to do with Roscoe himself. Rather, they saw their little brother’s proprietorial fondness for this newcomer and wondered how it had come about, and what exactly it meant for them.
‘Ruby saved my life,’ Eve said, which was a dramatic statement but seemed to fit the purpose. They all looked at her with new interest, and Ruby didn’t protest, because, after all, it was true.
‘Come on,’ said Daniel. ‘There’s a place over here where we can wait, while they fetch the luggage.’ He moved off the wharf with an arm tight round Eve’s waist. Ruby and Roscoe followed, holding hands, and the girls in turn followed them, while Angus weaved recklessly between everyone in an ecstasy of over-excitement.
Eliza watched the slim, strong, straight back of Ruby Donaldson and wondered if she was a dancer. She wondered, too, when she might get the chance to tell her mam about Mr Diaghilev. Ellen, feeling strangely
deflated after the tremendous thrill of the wait, wondered why these people were still walking with them. Eve felt the blessed security of Daniel’s arm about her waist and wondered how even to begin to tell her story, the story of Jamaica. She wondered, too, how it would end.
But for now, no one said anything, which sometimes happens when there is too much to say.
Chapter 52
On the day of the first Open Garden, Dickie Hoyland came home, unannounced. He arrived inconspicuously with the crowds, which was no one’s fault but his own, for forgetting to herald his arrival, but, being Dickie, he took it in his stride. He had never been a demanding fellow and had never expected – or particularly received – any great ceremony at his comings and goings, so he didn’t mind at all that it was now at least half an hour after his surprise appearance and the only person who knew he was back was Parkinson. Parkinson was also the only person who knew that Dickie was married. He had on his arm a small, plump, vivacious Italian girl whom he introduced to the butler as ‘Antonietta, my lovely wife’.
Since Parkinson had survived the regatta, he now believed he could cope with anything. He didn’t even very much mind the townsfolk tramping up the long gravel drive and making free with the outdoor furniture, especially since he happened to know that the bailiff, Mr Blandford, had made a full inventory of statuary and moveables. No: Mr Parkinson had added to his attributes the ability to expect the unexpected. So the fact that young Master Dickie – he was ever thus, in Parkinson’s mind – had returned from a three-and-a-half-year absence on the Italian Riviera with a wife, was an entirely manageable revelation. Dickie looked swarthy; with his hair slicked back and darkened by Brilliantine he could pass for an Italian himself. Antonietta, if anything, was paler-skinned than her husband, but her hair was a lavish, shining black and her eyes, which were deep liquid brown, reminded Parkinson of the countess’s spaniels. Also, like them, she was frisky: she pouted and giggled, and – he was almost certain – once or twice pinched her husband’s posterior.
Eden Falls Page 43