Robert’s face was sulky. ‘I couldn’t help it,’ he said. They were going to shoot looters. I heard them say so.’
That’s ridiculous! You weren’t a looter.’ But Alexa sighed, reminding herself that she had no right to be angry. ‘My own fault, I suppose. I should have gone myself instead of leaving it to a child.’
‘I’m not a child!’
‘Obviously you are when it comes to getting past a guard. I wouldn’t have let him stop me like that. All one has to do is to explain. But I suppose they weren’t prepared to take a boy seriously. Well, thank you for trying, Robert. Frank, I must go back to the apartment.’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Frank told her. ‘What do a few clothes matter?’
‘It’s more than clothes. I left some jewels there.’
‘More fool you, my darling. Why didn’t you have them in a bank?’
‘Because I’d intended to wear them at the ball. I only changed my mind when Margaret got upset about them for some reason, at the last moment. It didn’t seem that one night could do much harm. Anyway, the jewels that I did put in the bank are probably lost under a pile of rubble by now.’
‘Let them go,’ said Frank. He kissed her affectionately. ‘I can give you all the jewels you want.’
‘I know you can, dearest. But these are something special.’
‘Valuable, you mean?’
‘They are valuable certainly. Worth a small fortune, in fact. Nothing to compare with the Davidson fortune, but enough to make me feel that I shouldn’t be marrying you as a pauper.’
‘If you hadn’t a cent in the world, your face would still be your fortune,’ said Frank. ‘And your voice is a second fortune. The Davidsons have nothing to offer in comparison.’
‘That’s not the only reason why I want them.’ It came almost as a surprise to Alexa to discover how strong her feelings were for the rubies. Most of her jewels – and she had owned a good many, whatever might by now have become of them – were important to her mainly as a visible token that she need never be poor again as she had been poor in her childhood. ‘They’re a family heirloom. A legacy from my father. I really do want to fetch them, Frank. Van Ness isn’t far out of the way. If you take Miss Halloran directly to join the ferry queue, I could catch up with you almost as soon as you had a place in it. You said yourself that there might be several days to wait, so an hour won’t make much difference.’
‘I don’t want you wandering about the streets alone,’ said Frank. ‘If you want your jewels, you shall have them. But I’ll get them. You concentrate on finding Dr Scott, and when you’ve met up with her, don’t let her get away again. I’ll be back as soon as I can, and then we’ll set about making our way to Cassie.’
‘I’d rather go myself,’ said Alexa. It seemed to her that a woman might have less trouble than a man in persuading a guard that she was not a looter; and from what Robert had said it seemed that no other obstacles were likely to present themselves in that part of the city.
‘I already told you, I’m going,’ said Frank. His eyes smiled at her as merrily as ever, but the set of his lips was firm.
Alexa was not accustomed to take orders from the men who loved her. Through many years of adulation she had become spoiled, expecting every whim to be indulged. Only Matthew had been strong enough to impose his own wishes, not once but twice. This was the first argument that she and Frank had had during their courtship, and Alexa was sensitive enough to see how important it was to Frank that he should win it. He was telling her that she would have to surrender some of her independence when they were married. Alexa accepted his decision with a smile and thanked him with a kiss.
The errand was bound to take him a long time. He had not yet returned when Alexa was able to report to Robert that she had found his mother working at a first-aid station. She had been less successful in persuading Margaret to cross the bay with Frank, but this came as little surprise. It was enough that she had been able to pass on Cassie’s address, so that they could all be sure of coming together eventually.
After a late breakfast of pressed beef, Alexa set herself to comfort Miss Halloran, expecting that a woman of her age and dignity would by now be upset by the primitive conditions which she was being forced to endure. But to her surprise the old lady was in fine form. All her stiffness of manner had dropped away, almost as though she were enjoying the adventure. She kept both Alexa and Robert enthralled by stories of the way in which she had travelled from Ireland forty years earlier, first in the steerage of an emigrant ship, then in the almost equal discomfort of an immigrant train, and lastly in a wagon across the desert and through Indian country.
Even the exciting experiences she recalled could not distract her hearers from looking frequently down towards the burning city. Alexa watched in horrified silence as the frontiers of the fire relentlessly extended themselves, leaping from roof to roof over the open spaces of streets and gardens. But in the early afternoon a sea mist blew in from the ocean, covering all the lower parts of the peninsula with a familiar white cloud which was immediately darkened by smoke into a black fog. The streets became invisible, and night appeared to fall far earlier than usual over the hills.
A series of violent explosions came from the direction of the built-up area, more startling because nothing of what was happening was visible. Rumours spread through the listening crowds. The arsenal had blown up, the firemen were dynamiting fire breaks, a gas main had been ignited, a warehouse full of spirits had exploded. Miss Halloran’s chatter died away, and Alexa’s worry and fear returned. She sent Robert off to stand in line for the evening rations of bread and water and Brad, ordered by his father to rest after two exhausting days, returned to join them, bringing with him eggs and milk. They cooked the eggs on a neighbour’s fire, and ate in silence.
So the long hours of the evening passed, with the city invisible under its thick blanket of smoky fog: and still Frank did not return.
7
In a new and mobile society, wealth and respect grow at the same rate. By 1906 Greg Davidson enjoyed more of both than could be boasted by most of his fellow citizens in San Francisco, but he had not acquired them without effort.
At the end of a voyage round the Horn, he had arrived at the Golden Gate in 1879 without a penny to his name. William Lorimer, who had provided him with a free passage, saw no reason to contribute any additional funds. Even before the voyage began, David Gregson had died, buried in a new identity: it was as Greg Davidson that he began to earn his living by using the skills of his boyhood apprenticeship. He wound clocks and mended clocks and made new parts for clocks, finding himself increasingly useful in the houses of newly-rich men who were not used to the care of possessions. One of them asked him to repair the lock of a safe; another, to construct a new safe disguised as a bookcase. Greg met the challenges and moved on to make more safes, this time for himself. He acquired a building which, though semi-derelict above ground, boasted a brick cellar, and was soon able to offer secure strong-room facilities for gentlemen who wished to leave their valuables in the city and be sure of finding them again when they returned.
At that time there was still gold coming out of Corn-stock Hill; and when the new strike was made in the Yukon, the miners who hurried to make their fortunes there left from San Francisco and brought their gains back to the city. Greg’s own fortune was founded on the single fact that he was known to be honest. As time went by, his customers became friends. He acquired interests of his own by advancing funds for exploration in return for a percentage of any eventual discovery; and he expanded his safe deposit business until he was making loans and investments on a considerable scale. For the second time in his life he had made the transition from locksmith to accountant, and found that he had become a banker again. He still owned a company which made safes and locks – and he had observed with pride that both his sons had inherited his own manual dexterity -but the capital on which his real wealth was founded was his reputation for integrity.
His feeling for Margaret Lorimer had been very different. True, they had parted in a quarrel. But as distance calmed his own anger, he was able to recognize that he had expected too much. A young girl who had always been devoted to her father could not be expected to accept in a moment that John Junius’s behaviour was not only criminal but spiteful as well in its intended effect on herself and her fiancé. Faced with a divided loyalty she had chosen wrongly, but Greg could understand her reasons. In the leisure which the long voyage provided, he accepted the fact that he still loved her – and at the same time felt able to hope that she would love him again when she had had time to understand the tangled story.
So he had written to her from a shabby lodging house in San Francisco soon after his arrival. With nothing to offer except his own devotion, he was forced to rely on her adventurous spirit to bring her to his side – but when he remembered the determination which he had so often seen flashing in her eyes, it seemed to him that this would be enough.
He used one of the Lorimer Line captains as his messenger, and calculated as closely as he could how long it would take for his letter to reach Bristol and for Margaret in turn to travel out. In the meantime he worked hard so that she should find him, when she came, well established and with his own home: and when the necessary time had elapsed he met every ship out of Bristol over a period of many months. Only when, with a sick heart, he had accepted the fact that she intended neither to come herself nor even to answer his letter, did he accept the opportunity which for some time had been dangling before him. He married Moira Halloran, the daughter of one of his Cornstock customers, and set himself to forget Margaret Lorimer. In this he had largely succeeded.
Certainly, no one could have been further from his thoughts as the earthquake struck the city. He had kept his head even in the first confused hours of the emergency. Realizing almost at once the threat posed by fire, he had hurried away from the St Francis Hotel as soon as his family was safely settled there. Before noon on the first day his staff had carried everything that could be salvaged from his offices and strongrooms to a specially chartered ship which was now moored out in the bay, waiting until it should be safe to return to land. With that anxiety relieved, he added his authority to a committee of the leading citizens of San Francisco who were dividing emergency tasks between them. Some, while the firemen and troops fought to control the fire, crossed over to Oakland. There they were organizing hospitality for the homeless; and newspapers whose rivalry in normal times was notorious were printing a joint edition which listed the names of all those for whom beds were already waiting across the bay. The ferry which took refugees away from the disaster area returned on each round trip laden with food and water. It was Greg’s responsibility to see that supplies were fairly distributed.
He would have been glad of Frank’s help, and had suggested as much to Brad when he sent the exhausted boy off to rest at last. But it did not trouble him that there was no response to the message. There were a good many ways in which an able-bodied young man might be making himself useful at this time. He might even have been compulsorily drafted into one of the fire-fighting squads which were now attempting to contain the fire by creating fire breaks so wide that the flames could not leap across them.
By ten o’clock on the evening of the second day he was very tired. The opera ball had ended only at four o’clock on the night of the earthquake, so it had been from his first deep sleep that the shock had awakened him, and he had had no rest since then. He made his way towards the position which Brad had described to him as the family base. The smoke which had shrouded the buildings of San Francisco earlier in the evening had been dispersed by the night breeze, and so bright now was the light which came from the city burning below that he had no difficulty in picking his way between the people who lay sleeping on the ground.
The sound of a gasp and a scream, followed by a kind of sobbing, made him pause. Weary though he was, he could not pass by any new emergency, and he knew that in every community there were a few who would try to profit from the misfortunes of others. There might be assaults and robberies: if so, there must be firm action.
He made his way towards the sound and then came to a halt, smiling. A city might be dying, but babies were still being born. This one had already arrived – and in good health, to judge by the furious strength of its cries. A woman, kneeling on the ground in front of the mother, was dealing efficiently with the birth, while other women from nearby groups stood ready with blankets to wrap the child and even a little precious water to wash it.
When it seemed that she was satisfied that everything was in order, the woman who had delivered the baby wiped her hands on the grass to clean them and rose to her feet. She staggered a little with stiffness and exhaustion as she turned. Greg put out a hand to steady her. By the crimson light of the flames he saw her face, and recognized her at once.
He could tell that she had identified him with equal speed – and with none of the surprise, it seemed, that he was bound to feel. For what felt like a very long time, he was too stunned to speak.
‘Margaret!’ he exclaimed at last. ‘Margaret!’ He shook his head in incredulity and then laughed, as though some anticlimax was needed to reduce the electric tension between them. ‘Last time I saw you,’ he said, ‘you were soaked through with rain. Your hair was plastered against your face and your black cape drooped with dampness. And now I see you again after so many years, and your hair is still tousled, but this time it’s blood and not water which streaks your face.’
‘There have been moments of tidiness in between,’ said Margaret. In spite of her weariness, her eyes were twinkling with laughter, and the memory of the way she had so often teased him when they were young and in love overwhelmed him with delight He held out both hands towards her.
‘I am very happy to see you again, Margaret.’
‘And I you, David.’ She accepted his grip, and smiled at him with a pleasure which seemed equal to his own.
‘Could you bring yourself to call me Greg?’ he asked. ‘I am known here only as Greg Davidson. And I imagine that you have long ceased to be Margaret Lorimer.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘I married Charles Scott, the son of our old family doctor. But he died a good many years ago. I support myself now. I am a doctor as well.’
‘I remember that was always your ambition. I’m very glad to hear that you weren’t disappointed.’
There were people all around. No more public place could be imagined for such a reunion. Yet the intensity of their reaction to each other seemed to create a fence of privacy around them, and all the nearby bustle of conversation was concerned with the new baby. Greg was conscious of a wish to keep on talking, but every subject – whether of reminiscence or enquiry – seemed too trivial. In the end, he could not resist asking the one question which had worried him for many years.
‘I wrote to you, Margaret, after I had arrived here. We spoke unkindly to each other at our last meeting, and it was my dearest wish that we could agree to forget our suspicions, on both sides. I hoped that you might be willing to join me here. But you didn’t answer my letter.’
Even in the lurid light of the fire he thought he saw her grow pale.
‘I never received it,’ she said quietly.
‘The captain who carried it for me put it directly into the hands of your brother William.’
Margaret’s fists clenched with anger and fell to her sides.
‘Oh!’ she cried. ‘Yes, I well believe that. It seems to have been William’s delight to interfere in the lives of every member of his family. Oh David, if only I had known! I had no way of finding out where you had gone. I wanted so much to tell you that I had discovered my mistake, to apologi
ze to you. But I could only wait until I heard from you, and I heard nothing.’ She gave a sigh which acknowledged that it was too late for regrets. ‘You received a good deal of unkindness from the Lorimer family in England, David – Greg. I’m glad at least to discover that you’ve found success and happiness here.’
Her comment was accurate enough. His choice of a wife had not proved satisfactory in every respect, but he had adored each of his three children from the moment they were born, and they had responded by developing a relationship of easy friendship with him, very different from the conflicts of autocracy and rebellion which afflicted the households of many of his friends. And he certainly had no complaints about his material prosperity. But at such a moment none of that seemed important. He struggled for the right words to express the pleasure he felt at his encounter. Before he could find them, however, they were both startled by a sudden series of explosions down in the city.
‘Not before time,’ Greg said, turning to look in the direction of the sound. ‘That must be the last of the fire breaks. They’re demolishing houses to make wide open strips around the area which there is no hope of saving. The Western Addition was cut off earlier in the evening. Sounds as though they’re trying to contain the fire in the south now.’ He dismissed the matter from his mind. ‘Tell me, Margaret, how it was that you looked so little surprised to see me, if you didn’t know my home was here?’
‘I caught sight of you forty-eight hours ago, at the opera.’
‘Then why did you not come at once –?’
‘I was afraid that if I startled you by a sudden public encounter, you would remember only how angry you had been with me at our last meeting. I wrote you a letter instead, hoping that you would be able to forgive me. But in our hurry to get out into the open after the earthquake, I quite forgot about it. It must still be lying on the table of our apartment on Van Ness Avenue.’
‘Then we must assume that it is now a scattering of tiny fragments, since the Van Ness apartment blocks have already succumbed to the dynamite which created the fire breaks.’ He looked with sympathy at the alarm on her face. ‘And I suppose all your possessions were still inside?’
The Lorimer Legacy Page 23