The Forgotten Children

by Anita Davison

  Stokes must have been outside the door as he appeared immediately, and for once, Flora didn’t resent the butler’s busybody ways. Their exchange was too far away for her to overhear, but they exchanged only a few words before the butler stiffened, his expression inscrutable. With a single, swift nod, he rapidly withdrew, cradling the still half full decanter.

  ‘Now, what were we talking about?’ Bunny strode back to Flora’s side, his closeness giving her confidence. ‘Ah yes, I remember now. You seem unusually concerned about one of Mr Buchanan’s peeps, Dr Reid.’

  ‘I-I beg your pardon?’ Perspiration beaded on his forehead, his gaze shifting rapidly between them. ‘I was merely being—’

  ‘Is it the Stanhope itself which interests you? Or the contents?’ Flora interjected.

  I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I—’ Reid flushed and gave a high, short laugh that was entirely unconvincing.

  ‘It was you in that photograph, wasn’t it?’ Bunny took a leisurely sip from his glass and pointed it at the doctor. ‘Lizzie Prentice must have confronted you about it and you panicked.’

  ‘Is that why you killed her?’ Flora demanded. Ruth told the truth when she denied killing Lizzie.

  ‘After which,’ Bunny added. ‘You gave evidence at her inquest that she died as a result of a fall to cover your own actions?’

  The room seemed to empty of air. Suddenly nervous, Flora took a mouthful of sherry and gulped it down. Whatever happened next couldn’t be good. The man was obviously trapped and by the expression in his eyes he knew it.

  ‘Really, I—’ Reid dragged his gaze from Bunny’s and looked at Flora. The mood shifted and he seemed to sense they had allied themselves against him. He retrieved his glass, drained the contents before setting it down on the table with a crack hard enough to crack the crystal.

  ‘That stupid girl. If only she had minded her own business. The Stanhope was mine. Lizzie called at my lodgings to deliver a message and she saw it on my desk. She thought it was simply a pretty novelty and couldn’t resist examining it.’ His spat the words out, his tone low and angry as if talking to himself. ‘I thought she would understand as we were friends, but-’

  ‘Instead she was disgusted by you?’ Flora said gently.

  His lip quivered and he looked suddenly broken and yet defiant, as if he couldn’t accept that his own choice had brought him to this situation.

  ‘She refused to give it back. She said she was going to take it to the Board of Governors. I confronted her again in the yard the following day, hoping she had reconsidered. I tried to make her understand that my important work had to continue.’ His eyes hardened as his arrogance returned. ‘She said I deserved to be publicly disgraced. I offered to pay her, but she pulled away from me and—’ He shrugged as if what followed was inevitable. ‘I grabbed a stone from a flower border and hit her. I barely remember doing it. The next thing I knew, she was lying on the path, bleeding. I searched her pockets, but she didn’t have the peep on her.’ He laughed, a hollow, dreadful sound. ‘Perhaps I should have made sure of that first.’

  Flora closed her eyes, disgusted that he exhibited more frustration than remorse. Or as a man who helped save lives, did he believe he had the right to take them too?

  ‘Then you slipped back into the building, and when the shouting started, joined the crowd in the yard and pretended you had no idea what the commotion was about,’ Flora said.

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘All that, and you still didn’t have the photograph,’ Bunny said calmly. ‘The existence of which could cause a great deal of trouble for both you and Victor Buchanan.’

  ‘If you give that Stanhope to the police, we’ll both go to prison.’ He brought a fist down onto the back of Bunny’s favourite wingback chair, his eyes flashing. ‘I’ll never be able to practice as a doctor again.’

  ‘Inevitable, I’m afraid.’ Bunny sighed. ‘Besides what the police refer to as indecent practices, let’s not forget the fact that you murdered a young girl.’

  ‘I was afraid you might be unsympathetic.’ He slid his right hand into a pocket. When he removed it again he held a pistol, so small, Flora wondered if it was real or not.

  ‘I hadn’t anticipated that,’ she whispered, her heart thumping against her corset.

  ‘Nor me.’ Bunny stepped smartly in front of her, his hands held palms outwards. ‘I wouldn’t if I were you, Doctor. This will simply make your situation much worse.’

  Flora was about to tell him he was wasting his breath, as a similar plea had had no effect on Ruth either, but the tiny hole at the end of the gun barrel held her frozen.

  ‘I have no alternative.’ Reid eased towards the door, the weapon pointed at Bunny’s chest. ‘Now, I’ll have the Stanhope, if you please.’

  ‘We’re not certain where it is just now.’ Flora tried to distract him as she calculated how long it had been since Stokes had left. ‘You’ll have to allow us time to find it.’

  ‘Don’t lie.’ The gun jerked. ‘I’d be willing to wager it’s in this very room. Now give it to me!’

  Behind him, the door opened and a shadow loomed in the door frame.

  Flora forced herself not to look in case she alerted Reid, but suddenly his eyes dulled, rolled up in his head and he toppled onto the floor at her feet. The weapon fell from his hand and skittered across the polished floorboards, coming to rest against the hearth.

  ‘Stokes said you had a bit of trouble in here, Mr Harrington.’ Abel Cain filled the door frame, a mildly puzzled frown directed at the prone figure on the floor.

  ‘Not any longer, Abel.’ Flora exhaled a relieved breath. ‘That was most efficient, thank you.’ Her knees went belatedly weak and she collapsed onto the nearest sofa. Her gaze drifting to his hands which were empty. ‘What did you hit him with?’ She had forgotten Abel had arrived home with Sally and insisted on getting her settled so was still in the house.

  Abel shrugged and held up his clenched right fist, that was the size of a plucked chicken.

  ‘Mrs Cope was making me a cup of tea and Stokes came to say a doctor was here. I thought he had come to see Sally, but Stokes started babbling about the police and insisted I come up here. The second he opened the door I recognised that chap from the hospital. I saw the gun – and well. I didn’t have a choice did I?’

  ‘For which we shall be eternally grateful Abel,’ Flora said. ‘Where is Stokes now?’

  ‘He’s gone to telephone for a constable.’

  ‘Right, well I doubt Reid will stay unconscious for long.’ Bunny pressed his fingers to the still motionless man’s neck. ‘His pulse is steady anyway so no permanent damage. We’ll have to secure him until Maddox gets here. Give us a hand would you, Abel?’

  ‘I’ve spoken to Inspector Maddox, sir.’ Stokes returned at a run, smartly sidestepping Abel who dragged the unconscious Dr Reid along the floor by his ankles. ‘He was a little resistant, but when I explained what had happened, he said he would be here shortly.’

  ‘Most efficient of you, Stokes, thank you.’ Bunny untied a silk cord from the curtains and wrapped it round the doctor’s wrists, securing it round the leg of the sofa.

  Flora retrieved Reid’s pistol from the floor. The weapon was tiny, no more than three inches long with a curved handle inlaid with mother-of-pearl etched with gold. The object sat neatly in her palm, the metal smooth cold, and comfortably heavy.

  ‘Bunny?’ she hefted the object in her hand admiringly. ‘May I have one of these?’

  ‘What the devil-?’ Bunny’s mouth opened in horror as he leapt forward, snatched the gun from her. ‘Goodness, Flora, what do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘I wasn’t going to shoot anyone!’ She released the weapon reluctantly, her hand strangely empty without it. ‘I thought it would be useful if I ever came across another Swifty.’ It would also fit beautifully into any one of her bags.’

  ‘This, my darling, is a Webley Bulldog.’ He held the gun in his open palm with
something like reverence. ‘Even the Americans have copied this model, though this ornamental handle suggests this one was custom made. Small but powerful, and certainly not for inexperienced hands.’ Muttering to himself, he strode to the bureau, placed the gun inside a drawer, and his eyes narrowed at her over his shoulder, slid it firmly closed.

  ‘Pity.’ Flora sighed.

  Chapter 31

  Flora’s only legacy of her struggle on the barge and the episode with Dr Reid were scraped knees, sore fingers, and a persistent ache in one hip. She had slept late that morning and enjoyed breakfast in bed followed by her second bath in twelve hours to rid herself of the residual smell of damp filth that clung to her from the excursion on the river.

  ‘How are you feeling this morning?’ Bunny entered from his dressing room and perched on the edge of the bed.

  ‘Much refreshed, although it’s taken until now to get the taste of soot and sulphur out of my mouth.’ She smoothed her hair over one shoulder and gave the long tresses a surreptitious sniff, relieved it smelled lavender and not coal smoke and river water.

  ‘Sally appears to have recovered from her adventure.’ Bunny crossed to the window that overlooked the street two stories below. ‘I heard her regaling the maids with her heroics when I came downstairs. I could have sworn I heard Abel’s voice as well. Didn’t he go home last night?’

  ‘He did, but came back again this morning. I’ve given Sally a couple of days off to recover, though you would never know anything had happened to her.’ Flora sifted through the mail the maid had brought up. ‘Have you heard from Inspector Maddox yet today?’

  ‘He telephoned first thing to let me know that we don’t need to go to the police station until tomorrow.’ He held back the curtain with one hand, frowning slightly. ‘The Dr Reid episode means he has more paperwork to complete. He told me that the captain of the SS Lancett has also been arrested, something to do with a separate dubious cargo they discovered on board. Also that the children will be returned to their families this morning once they have been deemed fit and healthy.

  This news did not please Flora as it should have. Having seen some of the homes the children came from, it occurred to her they had been saved from one type of horror only to be returned to the original one. The children had also been questioned, but none recalled a child named Annie.

  ‘Isobel Lomax’s parents wanted us to accept a reward,’ Bunny continued, oblivious of Flora’s disquiet.

  ‘I hope you refused.’ She looked up from the pile of letters.

  ‘Naturally. I thanked them politely, but said that virtue was its own reward.’

  ‘You didn’t!’

  ‘Of course not.’ He chuckled. ‘I suggested they make a donation to St Philomena’s Children’s Hospital instead.’

  ‘Excellent solution.’ Flora tore open an envelope that bore Lady Jocasta’s writing. ‘I’m sure Alice will be very grateful. I can only imagine how she feels about harbouring a villain like Ruth on her staff.’

  ‘I doubt anyone will blame her for Sister Lazarus’ actions. Talking of Alice.’ His gaze returned to his contemplation of the street. ‘I’ve come to the conclusion you were right, and there’s definitely a family resemblance.’

  ‘What made you think that?’ Flora halted in the act of unfolding the letter.

  ‘Because I’m looking right at her. She’s at the front gate.’

  ‘What?’ She dropped the letter she was holding and hobbled to his side as fast as her stiff muscles allowed and stared down into the street.’

  Dressed in her elegant grey coat and matching hat Flora had admired before, Alice stood at the gate, her hand on the latch as if she was not sure whether or not she should step onto the tiled pathway.

  Flora turned and swept out of the room, her movements markedly hampered by her hip. She braced her arms on the bannisters and eased carefully down each stair in turn, fearful that Alice would change her mind and vanish. Finally, reached the front door and yanked it open.

  Alice stood on the top step, her hand reaching for the bell pull. She blinked in surprise on seeing Flora and lowered her hand. ‘Good morning, Flora. I-I think we need to talk.’

  Flora stepped back to allow her into the hall, her heart thumping uncomfortably in her chest as she helped Alice out of her coat. Anticipation made her hands shake as she transferred the garment to the hat stand.

  ‘Come into the sitting room. Have you had breakfast?’ Flora’s throat dried as she led the way, her voice higher-pitched than usual. Surely there could only be one reason for her presence? Or had she come simply to make sure everyone was all right after yesterday’s adventures?

  ‘Yes, thank you. I was up very early this morning, but I would welcome some coffee.’

  Bunny appeared as Alice was taking her seat.

  ‘Miss Finch, how delightful.’ He greeted her with his usual charm, even to dropping a kiss on her knuckles, her hand held in both of his for a long pause. ‘Actually, I have to leave you. Inspector Maddox requires a full written account of what transpired yesterday. I think I’ll retreat to my study and do that now while it’s all still fresh in my mind.’ He backed away, but paused to direct a slow, conspiratorial wink at Flora.

  ‘That was tactful of him.’ Alice gave the pile of magazines scattered on the cushions an enquiring glance. ‘Have I come at an awkward time?’

  ‘No, of course not. Oh, sorry. Let me move these.’ Flora gathered them into an untidy pile and dumped them unceremoniously onto a nearby table.

  ‘Now I’m here, I’m not sure where to begin.’ Alice made a show of settling onto the sofa, but kept her gaze averted.

  ‘Then let me.’ The question Flora had asked herself all night sprang to her lips, ‘I might have been mistaken, but when Swifty appeared about to attack me on the deck of his barge, I could have sworn you called me Fleur.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure you had heard me.’ Alice twisted the metal clasp of the bag in her lap. ‘You are correct. I did call you that. It was the name I gave you when you were born.’

  Slowly, Flora lowered herself onto the space beside her, falling the last few inches as the room seemed to recede around her. She had gone over the scene on the barge a hundred times since it happened, convincing herself she had misheard. That it was a meaningless slip of the tongue.

  ‘Flora, are you all right?’ Alice leaned forward in her chair. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘No, no, you haven’t. When I was born, that’s what you said isn’t it?’

  ‘It was, yes.’ She gave a light, if nervous laugh. ‘Riordan hated it. He said it was too presumptuous for people in our station. He insisted you be called Flora.’

  ‘He did?’ Flora frowned, recalling that Riordan had told her that her grandfather had changed her name, but perhaps, like so many things, she had misunderstood.

  ‘When I saw that man loom out of the dark on the pier, yesterday, I reacted purely by instinct.’ The look Alice gave her held a plea. ‘Yet at the same time, I was terrified I might have revealed something you wouldn’t welcome. Or accept.’

  Suddenly, Flora felt barely able to breathe. Her instincts hadn’t betrayed her after all. Excitement rushed through her veins at the facts she was about to have every question that had plagued her all her life answered. Before she could summon any of them, Stokes arrived and set a tray on the table between them.

  ‘Shall I leave you to pour, madam?’ His knowing smile indicated he knew this was no ordinary social call.

  ‘Uh-Thank you, Stokes, I will.’ Flora watched him depart through narrowed eyes. Had Bunny said something to him?

  ‘A tactful manservant too. Alice said when he had left. ‘My, you are a fortunate young woman.’ She smoothed her skirt over her knees, set her bag carefully beside her.

  Flora concentrated on pouring the coffee, mainly to stop her hands from shaking. The rich aroma, which usually relaxed her, combined with the rapid fluttering of her heart had made her feel nauseous.

  ‘Perhap
s this isn’t the right time?’ Alice’s smile did not hide the anxious question in her eyes at Flora’s lack of response.

  ‘No!’ She looked up quickly, the coffee pot hitting the table with a thump. ‘I mean yes, of course it is. I want to hear whatever you want to say.’ I always have.

  ‘Well then.’ She inhaled slowly. ‘I was sixteen when I went into service at Cleeve Abbey as Lady Vaughn’s maid.’ She accepted the cup Flora handed her with an unsteady hand. ‘I was young and life at the Abbey was so different from that of a minister’s daughter in a tiny village in Surrey. Lady Vaughn loved to travel and she took me with her everywhere. I was swept away by the grandeur of it all. Unwisely, I fell in love with a young man within the family. We were both young, and at that age you believe anything is possible.’

  Flora smothered an impulse to speak William’s name by taking a mouthful of coffee, but gulped too fast and it threatened to choke her.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Alice handed her a napkin from the tray.

  ‘Yes, of course. Hot.’ She flapped a hand. ‘Do go on.’

  ‘He was as impetuous and romantic as I was. When I think back to how reckless we were it was inevitable I should get into trouble.’ She dropped her gaze to her cup. ‘I’m sure I don’t have to explain what sort.’

  ‘No. You don’t,’ Flora said gently, hoping she didn’t sound judgemental.

  ‘He told his family we wished to marry. We even arranged the wedding.’ Her smile reflected the joy she had obviously felt at the prospect, but immediately it withered to sadness. ‘I’m sure you can imagine how that announcement was received. Lady Vaughn persuaded him to change his mind and within weeks they had sent him to America to complete his education, though everyone knew it was to remove him from me.’

  ‘You understand what I’m trying to tell you?’

  ‘That Riordan Maguire was not my father,’ Flora replied calmly, recalling a similar conversation she had had with Lady Vaughn after Riordan’s death, when the secrets of her parentage had come out.