‘Which is something you most certainly are not.’ Lydia’s eyes flashed through her lowered lashes. ‘As to the wedding. Harry’s father is a dear, but I wanted to give his mother and sisters a chance to get to know me better. They always look as if they are sucking lemons when they see me.’
‘Believe me, Lydia, my love,’ Harry snorted, ‘unless you inherit a fortune from a lost uncle with a dukedom, nothing will change.’
‘Entirely their loss.’ Flora patted her friend’s hand. ‘not to mention a real Jane Austen moment.’ At Harry’s confused frown, she added, ‘You know, Charles Bingley’s sisters disapproving of Jane Bennett.’
‘Not a reader or romantic novels, I’m afraid,’ Harry muttered, his nose buried in his brandy glass.
‘When we are married, I’ll simply have to educate you,’ Lydia said.
His lower lip dropped, his discomfort greeted with a guffaw of laughter from Bunny. ‘You might not find Austen as bad as you imagine, old chap.’
While Lydia scolded them gently, Bunny for his teasing and Harry for an aversion to her favourite author, Flora’s mind drifted, her gaze going back to the clock on the mantelpiece for the third time in as many minutes. Surely Sally should have returned by now; it was after eleven.
‘Flora?’ the sharpness in Bunny’s tone made her jump. ‘Harry’s coffee cup is empty’
‘Ah sorry, of course. Anyone else want more coffee?’ In response to murmurs of assent she rose and refilled their cups, the action giving her something to do, but it failed to reduce her growing anxiety. The concert wouldn’t go on much after ten thirty, so where was Sally?
‘I hear you’ve been flirting with politics, Harry?’ Bunny held up the brandy decanter in an open invitation.
Harry accepted, as did Lydia, but Flora declined. Baron Otard’s brandy might be the finest but it was too fiery for her.
‘Indeed he has,’ Lydia said. ‘He’s become quite an admirer of Keir Hardie.’
‘I take it you approve?’ Bunny addressed Lydia, returning the decanter to the tray.
‘I do, actually,’ Lydia replied, enthusiastically. ‘Hardie champions women’s rights, free schooling and pensions. He’s not a supporter of the monarchy either, which upsets the Conservatives.’
‘I can see why your parents think Lydia is a bad influence.’ Bunny aimed a wink at Harry making him laugh. ‘Hasn’t he come in for some criticism for attending the Commons in a tweed suit instead of formal dress like the rest of the House?’
‘There are far more interesting things to say about him,’ Harry said. ‘Like the fact he’s a man who would be sympathetic to the plight of these children of whom you and Lydia have become champions, Flora.’ Harry saluted her with his coffee cup. ‘At least now the Police have the authority under the Human Trafficking Act to make whoever is responsible account for their crimes in a court of law.’
‘We’ll need to find them first.’ Lydia’s comment was greeted with a sigh from Flora and murmurs of agreement from the men. ‘I don’t suppose this—’Lydia broke off as the door opened revealing Stokes.
‘Excuse me, sir.’ His eyes darted the room before settling on Bunny, while one hand made a vague pointing gesture to his right. ‘There’s a… person outside who insists on speaking with you.’
Flora’s stomach knotted with disappointment it wasn’t Sally. ‘Who could be calling at this hour?’ she asked no one in particular.
‘You’d better admit them, Stokes. It might be important,’ Bunny said, but before the butler could comply, Abel Cain shoved past him and strode into the room. Stokes gave a shocked protest, which Bunny interrupted. ‘It’s quite all right, Stokes. You may go.’
The butler bowed and backed away, his reluctance evident in the way he pulled the door closed far slower than normal.
‘Abel?’ Flora asked, as everyone’s attention fixed on the newcomer, whose impressive build made the room suddenly crowded. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
He stood with slumped shoulders, his thick brown hair disarranged by the swift and last minute removal of his hat. ‘Apologies for disturbing you, Mrs Harrington, Mr Harrington.’ Abel’s brown eyes widened in distress as he looked from Bunny to Flora and back again. ‘Has anyone seen Sally?’
‘Isn’t she with you?’ Flora rose slowly from her seat as dread turned the uneasy fluttering in her chest to panic.
‘No, Miss. I hoped she might have come back here.’ Abel scanned the room with nervous darts of his head, as if he expected Sally might be concealed behind a sofa.
‘Well, she hasn’t.’ Bunny placed his brandy glass on the mantelpiece with a click and came to stand at Flora’s side. ‘What happened tonight?’
‘We did exactly what you said.’ He repeatedly twisted the brown cap in both hands in front of him with a force that threatened to rip the material. ‘We sat in that café across the road from the concert hall and saw Mr Buchanan arrive. He didn’t talk to anyone from what we could see, but we saw him come out again during the interval. He stood on the street smoking a cigar.’
‘I gather nothing unusual happened and he went back in again?’ Bunny prompted, evidently irritated by Abel’s slow, contemplative way of speaking.
‘He didn’t go back in, sir.’ He gave his hat another mangling.
‘Where did he go?’ Flora clenched her hands together to remind her not to snap.
‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you.’ Abel swallowed. ‘We followed him into the Lamb and Flag in St James’ Street, where he bought a double whisky. The pub was very busy, so Sally and me had trouble keeping an eye on him without drawing attention to ourselves.’
‘Are you saying he gave you the slip?’ Bunny asked.
‘No, sir. Only we daren’t get too close in case he spotted us, and what with all the comings and goings, it was hard to keep him in sight all the time.’
‘We understand, Abel,’ Flora said gently. ‘It was a difficult situation. Did Mr Buchanan talk to anyone?’
‘Not at first. We hadn’t been there long when a man and a woman from the Sally Army turned up with collection boxes. I didn’t think much of it at first, I mean, them God-botherers like to catch people in pubs and tap them up for a few shillings.’
Lydia giggled, but sobered when she caught Flora’s hard look and mouthed an apology.
‘Abel,’ Bunny interrupted him, ‘where is all this leading?’
‘Sorry, sir.’ He ducked his head, embarrassed. ‘Sally told me she saw the woman give Mr Buchanan a note.’
‘What woman?’ Lydia asked, impatient.
‘I didn’t see her properly, she was wearing one of those poke bonnets.’
‘The Salvation Army woman?’ Flora finally made sense of what he was trying to say. ‘Why didn’t you say so?’
‘I thought I did.’ Abel’s brows knitted together. ‘They all look the same, those people. Same clothes, same expressions. Can’t tell one from another,’ he muttered this last almost to himself. ‘The note seemed to make Mr Buchanan angry because he crumpled it up and shoved it into his pocket. The officer tried to speak to him but he waved him off. I couldn’t hear what he said.’
‘Interesting,’ Bunny mused. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll learn what that note was about?’
‘I would like to know too,’ Flora said.
‘Well that’s the thing.’ Abel twisted the hat in his hands, his neck turning a dull pink. ‘Sally told me to do it, but I wasn’t sure about it.’ He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as if working up to something. ‘I went to the bar and, well, I-I picked Buchanan’s pocket.’
‘Without him realizing?’ Flora asked, both shocked and admiring at the same time. How did a man like Abel, who stood over six foot and with shoulders as wide as a door, go unnoticed?
‘After three double whiskys?’ Abel gave her an ironic, sideways look. ‘I doubt he would have noticed if I’d taken his ruddy coat off his back.’ In response to Flora’s shocked expression his cheeks flushed a deeper red. ‘Beggin’ yer
pardon, missus. He barely noticed me, just stared into his glass looking all grey and drawn.’
‘Might we see the result of your sleight of hand skills, Abel?’ Bunny held out his hand.
‘Um yes, sir. Sorry.’ Abel delved into his coat pocket and drew out a slip of paper which was little more than a mass of creases.
‘What about Sally?’ Flora was eager to see what the note said, but her maid was her main concern just then. ‘Why didn’t she come home with you?’
‘I-I went to the gents. And well, I was only gone a minute or two, but when I came out, Sally wasn’t in the bar. I ran outside, but there was no sign of her.’ He pushed one hand into his hair and left it there. ‘I told her to stay and wait for me, but you know how she is.’
‘I do indeed.’ Sighing, Flora closed her eyes briefly. ‘Where could she have gone?’
‘I doubt there’s cause for panic, Flora. Sally isn’t likely to get lost.’ Bunny moved closer and laid a hand on her shoulder; a gesture meant to calm her, but only made her more agitated. ‘London is her home, so let’s not worry about her until it becomes necessary.’
Flora couldn’t help worrying. Sally had plenty of money for cabs and should have been home by now.
‘Abel,’ Bunny’s grip on Flora’s shoulder stayed firm. ‘Think. What did Sally actually say?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Abel’s handsome face twisted in anguish like a small boy chastised for some misdemeanour, his brow furrowed as he tried to remember. ‘Something about having seen him before, but it was really noisy in that pub.’
‘Perhaps this will tell us more?’ Bunny unfolded the note and peered at it. ‘Eighteen hundred hours, SS Lancett, Tilbury, October 4th,’ he read aloud. He turned the paper over and back again. ‘That’s all.’
‘My goodness,’ Lydia gasped. ‘October 4th! That’s tomorrow.’
‘The SS Lancett,’ Harry said slowly, joining the conversation for the first time. ‘That sounds like a steamship, with the time and date of its scheduled departure.’
‘Mr Buchanan’s a ship owner.’ Flora’s throat dried as she recalled what Alice had told her. ‘It must be one of his. Can they be planning to take those children out of the country?’ The blood rushed through her veins making her suddenly light-headed. ‘We must do something, Bunny. We have to tell Inspector Maddox.’
Harry stood, placed his glass on the mantelpiece beside Bunny’s and rubbed his hands together. ‘Flora’s right, but even they cannot go barging onto a ship when they feel like it and demand to know if they have children on board. Not without some sort of warrant.’
Bunny tapped the slip of paper against his top lip. ‘It’s almost midnight. We’ll have to wait until the morning to do anything. I’ll speak to Maddox first thing tomorrow, though he might not take action on the strength of the scant evidence we have at the moment.’
‘What about Sally?’ Flora fought back welling tears. ‘The police need to be out looking for her.’
‘I know it’s frustrating, Flora.’ Bunny’s voice was infuriatingly reasonable. ‘Sally hasn’t been missing for long enough to necessitate a police search. In any case, I doubt a lowly night desk sergeant would be willing to drag Inspector Maddox out of bed on our say-so.’
‘No, I suppose not.’ Flora’s thoughts raced. ‘Why did Sally go after Mr Buchanan? How could she have seen him before? Unless he was at The Antigallican the other night?’
‘She didn’t, Mrs Harrington,’ Abel’s soft voice at her side made her jump.
Every eye in the room rounded on Abel, who swallowed before answering.
‘Mr Buchanan was still in the bar. She followed the Sally Army couple.’
Chapter 20
With still no sign of Sally, it was almost two o’clock by the time the party broke up, having conceded that nothing more could be done that night. Abel was reluctant to leave, only agreeing when Bunny promised to let him know the moment they heard anything.
‘Chances are she’ll be back before morning with a colourful tale to tell,’ Bunny said in an unsuccessful attempt to reassure both the dismayed young man and Flora.
‘I do hope so,’ Flora whispered unable to dislodge the knot of dread twisting her stomach. Sally wouldn’t leave her worrying deliberately, meaning she had been taken and thus had no choice.
With a tentative promise to talk again the next day, Bunny and Flora took their leave of their guests on the front step, held open by a visibly flagging Stokes.
‘Lydia is a very progressive young woman, isn’t she? Even more so than you,’ Bunny raised his hand in a wave as the couple disappeared round the corner. ‘Who would have thought Keir Hardie would be her hero?’
‘Times are changing, Bunny.’ Flora gave an exaggerated shudder and hurried back inside the house. ‘Which is as it should be. Women shouldn’t be considered beyond the pale because they are interested in social issues. They affect us all.’
‘Try saying that to my mother and see what she says.’ Bunny ushered her inside where he blew into his cupped hands. ‘When she discovered I wished to marry a girl who had travelled on a ship from New York without a chaperone, she almost had to call for the smelling salts.’ He trailed up the stairs, chuckling to himself.
‘Your mother, my love, is from a different age.’ Flora followed wearily in his wake, her concern for Sally growing more intense by the minute. ‘The Stone Age.’
*
After a fitful night, when Flora jumped at every creak of the floorboards or scrape of a branch on the window glass, she woke to the clack of the curtains being drawn across the brass pole, flooding the room with sharp white daylight accompanied by the whoosh of running water from the bathroom across the hall.
She bolted upright in anticipation, only to slump back against the pillows when she saw it was one of the maids with her morning tea.
‘Has Sally returned yet, Nell?’
‘No, madam. Sorry, madam.’ Nell placed a cup of steaming tea on the nightstand but instead of withdrawing, she hovered by the bed, evidently in the hope of hearing something of interest she could report downstairs. ‘We’re all that worried downstairs. It ain’t like her to stay out all night.’
‘I know.’ Flora sighed, propped her elbow against the bunched up pillows and lifted the cup to her lips. The tea revived her, helping to order her fuzzy thoughts and dispel the remains of a disturbing dream.
Sally had been missing half a day, but was that long enough to prompt Inspector Maddox to instigate a search? Probably not. She could hear his voice in her ear explaining patiently that Sally was a grown woman and free to do as she wished; even imagining the moralistic tone of his voice when he did so.
‘Flora, I’ve been thinking—’ Bunny emerged from the dressing room garbed in only a white towel wrapped around his hips to mid-thigh. ‘Oops, sorry,’ he halted at the sight of Nell. ‘I didn’t think anyone was—’
Nell gasped, her eyes wide above the hand she brought to her mouth. With a sharp scream she turned and fled the room.
Flora rolled her eyes, mildly irritated. In the same position, Sally would have smirked and stood her ground, not run away screaming.
Bunny let the towel slip to the floor and patted his flat belly. ‘I suppose she’ll scurry into corners whenever she sees me in the hall now?’ He sighed and held up a pair of underpants for inspection before putting them on.
‘Very likely. And if she gives notice, I’ll hold you responsible.’ Flora returned her cup to the nightstand. ‘Now, what was it you were thinking?’ She pushed back the covers and swung her legs onto the floor.
‘That I shall telephone the police station before breakfast and talk to Inspector Maddox.’ He pulled on a pair of socks and fastened them to red elastic gaiters. ‘If he tries to fob me off with platitudes, I’ll demand an interview with his superior and go and see him personally.’
‘He’s bound to be sceptical about our story of children being smuggled in ships by the Salvation Army. That sounds like something from a penny novel
.’
‘Well, I shan’t let him put me off. Not with the weight of evidence that’s piling up.’ He peered down his nose into a mirror as he clipped his collar to his shirt.
‘I appreciate that, thank you.’ Emotion thickened her voice. ‘I wasn’t sure whether or not you would be willing to go against Maddox if the need arose.’
‘Did you think I wouldn’t support you in this?’ He looked up from fastening his belt, his expression of fierce concentration softened. ‘Look, Flora, I know I tease you about Sally being pert and disrespectful, but she isn’t stupid. She went after that man in the army uniform for a reason. If she hasn’t come back, it’s because she’s being prevented.’ He shrugged into his jacket and blew her a kiss from the door. ‘I’ll see you downstairs.’
Flora’s dressing ritual took on a certain poignancy without Sally. Not that Flora had ever minded shifting for herself, but she missed the bright-eyed whirlwind of a girl who lapsed into a chirpy East End accent in times of stress or excitement. Despite Beatrice Harrington’s warnings of Sally’s scant regard for her superiors, Flora enjoyed her company. Thus, when the tiny buttons on the back of her dress proved too much that morning, necessitating she summon a maid to help her, Flora was close to tears.
When she emerged from their room, she heard Bunny’s low tones as he spoke on the telephone in the rear hall. In order not to interrupt him, she ascended to the floor above, where through the half-open nursery door she heard Nell in conversation with Milly.
‘Even the mistress don’t know what’s happened to ’er.’ Nell’s sense of the dramatic clear in her high-pitched voice. ‘Vanished without a trace, she ’as.’
The maid gave a tiny gasp on seeing Flora. Cheeks flaming, she dipped a quick curtsey and hurried past her into the hall.
‘Little master was up at the crack of dawn, madam.’ Milly did not acknowledge Nell’s rapid exit and continued to fold a pile of baby linens. ‘He’s teething just now, but he copes with it like a trooper.’
‘I shan’t wake him.’ Flora leaned over the cot and gently stroked the fuzz of dark blond hair in tiny curls at his neck, just like his father’s. Arthur stirred beneath her hand, flailed a dimpled arm, but settled again immediately, his thumb jammed firmly into his mouth.
The Forgotten Children Page 19