by Dilly Court
Later that evening Sarah and Davey ate their supper at a small table in the bar. They ordered pot au feu, which turned out to be a savoury beef stew, and shared a bottle of rough red wine. When they returned to their room Davey took the chair by the fire. ‘I can sleep anywhere,’ he said, eyeing the bed with a rueful grin. ‘I’ve thought about sharing a bed with you, Sarah. But not with a third party lying between us.’
‘Don’t say things like that.’
‘Why not? It’s true. We used to talk about getting married when we grew up. That’s the way a husband and wife behave.’
She turned away, unable to meet his amused gaze. ‘I don’t know what they do. No one ever told me.’ She shot him a sideways glance. ‘Miss Elsie never spoke about men in that way.’
Davey lowered himself into the chair. ‘You must have some idea.’
‘Not really.’ She perched on the edge of the bed, taking off her boots. ‘Have you ever taken a woman to bed, Davey?’
‘I’m a bit drunk, but not so tipsy that I’d admit to something like that, even if it was true. Which I’m not saying it is.’
‘So you haven’t?’
‘Get some rest, Sarah. We’ll have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.’ He yawned and leaned back, grimacing as the chair creaked ominously. ‘I’m not talking about personal things with him lying there. Maybe one day we might continue with this conversation, but not now.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Goodnight, my brave, lovely girl.’
She lay down on the bed next to Grey with Davey’s words ringing in her ears, but exhaustion combined with two glasses of strong French wine had her falling, falling, falling into the welcome oblivion of a dreamless sleep.
The sea was choppy but Davey had used a large part of their dwindling supply of money to pay for a cabin. It was small and stuffy and the lingering smell of vomit was making Sarah feel queasy as she sat beside the bunk where Grey tossed and turned feverishly. His lips moved ceaselessly but she could barely make sense of his mumblings. She bathed his forehead and fed him sips of water, but there was little else she could do. Davey spent most of his time on deck but he brought her cups of tea and hunks of soggy gingerbread, insisting that she must keep up her strength.
The journey back to Dover seemed to take twice as long as the outward voyage, but when Davey returned to the cabin and urged her to come up on deck and enjoy the sight of the white cliffs of Dover she did not hesitate. She stood beside him on the salt-stained, windswept deck and he placed his arm around her shoulders, steadying her as the vessel yawed slightly in preparation for entering the harbour. ‘That’s a good sight, isn’t it?’
The cliffs stood out ghostly white against the darkening sky, but her initial relief at the sight of them was tempered by her anxiety for Grey. ‘Yes, it is, and I’m glad to be home, but I’ve been wondering what to do for the best when we go ashore. It’ll be dark soon and Grey has to see a doctor, but there’s not much money left and I need to see Moorcroft urgently. He’s the only one who can help us, but Grey is too ill to travel further.’
‘Then we’ll find a lodging house for you and Tobias and I’ll get the train to London.’
‘To London?’ She stared at him in surprise. ‘But you’ve never been there. You wouldn’t know where to go.’
‘I’ve got a tongue in my head, sweetheart. I’m not a helpless boy who’s scared of the big city. Just tell me where to find your friend Moorcroft and I’ll seek him out.’
‘You’d do that for Grey?’
‘No, Sarah. I’ll do it for you because I know you care about him. Now tell me what to do when I reach London.’
‘All right,’ she said slowly. ‘If you’re sure about this, you’ll most likely find Mr Moorcroft at Mrs Arbuthnot’s home in Elbow Lane, or at least she would know how to contact him. Nettie might be there too. But I should be the one to go to London, not you.’
‘I’m no good at nursing sick people. Tobias needs you, Sarah. Let me do this thing and prove to you that I’m not just a bone-headed fisherman who doesn’t know his arse from his elbow.’
‘Oh, Davey, I never thought that.’
‘I’m just as good a man as your London friends, even if I don’t have their town polish. I can do anything I set my mind to. It just happens that fishing is my trade.’
‘And I wouldn’t want to change you. I don’t know where you’re getting these wild ideas. It must be the bump on the head making you say such things.’
His lips curved into a humorous grin. ‘I think the bump on the head brought me to my senses.’ A sudden movement of the deck threw them closer together and he drew her to him, holding her in a close embrace and taking her mouth in a kiss that sent sweet sensations rippling through her veins. She parted her lips with a sigh and kissed him back. Passion robbed her of reason and the world around them had ceased to exist. The taste and scent of him overwhelmed her and she clung to him, wanting more, her whole body aflame with desire, but he released her suddenly and she was left shivering with shock. She stared at him, stunned by the sudden change in their relationship. It seemed that in a single moment their childish attachment had deepened into something stronger and more physical. She realised that they had crossed an invisible line, and she was glad. She waited for him to say something but he turned away. ‘We’ll be landing soon,’ he said gruffly.
The boat slid towards the harbour wall and the crew began rushing around tossing ropes ashore and preparing to disembark their passengers and cargo.
‘We’d best go below and get Tobias ready to go ashore,’ Davey said in a matter-of-fact voice that startled her. Her world had been turned upside down by that unexpected and achingly sweet embrace, but for him it seemed that nothing had changed.
‘Yes, of course.’ She headed for the companionway that led below decks to the cabins. She could hear his footsteps behind her and she reached out to hold his hand. His warm grasp comforted and reassured her. Together, she thought, they could do anything.
They found a lodging house close to the docks. The landlady, a burly woman who introduced herself as Mrs Kenny, widow, looked as though she could wrestle a drunken sailor to the ground should the need arise. She looked askance at Grey and demanded to know whether he had anything catching. Sarah assured her that he was suffering from an illness caused by near drowning and the woman, whose husband had apparently been lost at sea some years previously, agreed to let them have two rooms for the night but only after she had been paid in advance.
She counted the coins carefully. ‘I’ll send my youngest for the doctor. You can’t be too careful when it comes to people who’ve been abroad.’ She fixed Davey with a hard stare. ‘I don’t want no hanky-panky, mind. This is a respectable boarding house. Now get that young fellow up to bed before my other guests see him.’
The rooms were small and basic but they were clean and the bedding smelt of starch and the frosty outdoors. With Davey’s help Sarah managed to get Grey undressed and into bed before the doctor arrived.
‘I must go now,’ Davey said in a low voice. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
Sarah reached up to brush his cheek with a kiss. ‘You do know what to do when you reach London, don’t you?’
‘Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.’ He hesitated, gazing into her eyes, and for a moment she thought that he was going to take her in his arms, but the door burst open and the landlady erupted into the room.
‘The doctor’s here. Just in time if you want my opinion.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
THE DOCTOR STRAIGHTENED up, turning to Sarah with a serious expression on his lean features. ‘Your companion is a very sick man.’
‘Yes, doctor. I was afraid you might say that. Will he be all right?’
He frowned. ‘His lungs are very congested, and there is nothing I can do other than make him comfortable. The rest is in the hands of the Lord.’ He opened his bag and took out a small brown bottle. ‘You are familiar with laudanum?’
‘Yes, doctor.’
‘Give him a few of drops in a little water if he becomes restless. I’ll come again tomorrow morning. My fee for this visit is half a crown, if you please.’
Sarah handed him the money. ‘Is there any hope, doctor?’
‘We must always hope for the best, my dear.’ He gazed at her over the top of his steel-rimmed spectacles and his eyes were kind. ‘But perhaps a prayer or two would not go amiss.’ He patted her on the shoulder as he left the room.
‘It’s nothing catching, is it, doctor?’ Mrs Kenny’s anxious voice was raised above the sound of a man and woman shouting at each other in a nearby room. ‘She said it weren’t, but they come off the packet boat and you never know what diseases people bring from foreign parts. He could have the bloody plague for all I know.’
The rest of the conversation was lost as the doctor closed the door behind him. Sarah moved to the bedside. Grey’s complexion was ashen and beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead. His breathing was laboured and his fingers plucked at the coarse cotton sheeting. She dipped a cloth in the washbowl and wrung it out. ‘You will get better, Grey,’ she said, gently mopping his brow. ‘The doctor doesn’t know everything. I didn’t go all the way to France to let you die in a Dover boarding house.’
It was impossible to gauge whether or not he had heard and understood her words, but she willed him to get well. If he could not fight then she would fight for him. Grey had risked his life to save Miss Elsie and he had gone against Trigg in order to protect her when she was too young to stand up for herself. She settled down for a long night’s vigil at his bedside.
She awakened to find someone stroking her hair as it spilled over the coverlet, and she raised her head, realising with a start that she had fallen asleep. The pale iridescent light of dawn filtered through the small windowpanes and she could hear sounds of movement in the rooms on the top floor. As the last vestiges of sleep cleared from her brain she realised that Grey was looking directly at her. The feverish, unfocused look in his eyes had been replaced with the hint of a smile. She laid her hand on his hardly daring to believe that he had passed the crisis. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Strange,’ he said gruffly. ‘Thirsty.’
‘Of course.’ She stood up, ignoring the cramps in her muscles as she went to the washstand to fetch him a drink of water. She returned to the bed and propped him up on his pillows, holding the cup to his lips while he sipped.
‘Enough. Thank you.’ He raised his hand feebly and then let it fall back on the bed.
‘Are you in pain? The doctor left laudanum for you if you needed it.’
He shook his head. ‘I want to keep a clear head. There’s something important I must tell you.’
‘It can wait.’ She sat down again, taking his hand in hers. ‘You need to rest and regain your strength.’
‘I haven’t got long. You must listen to what I have to say.’ He struggled to catch his breath.
‘Don’t talk like that. You’re on the mend . . .’ Her voice trailed off as she realised that he had spoken the truth. She could feel him slipping away from her second by second. She leaned closer. ‘Don’t try to talk. The doctor will be here soon.’
‘Listen to me.’ His voice was little more than a whisper. ‘I’ve done many wrong things, Sarah. I want to atone before it’s too late.’
She tightened her grasp on his hand. ‘You will get well and all this will be forgotten.’
He was silent for a moment, fighting for each rasping breath. ‘Elsie had a child.’
‘Moorcroft told me all about it, but the baby died.’
‘No, she didn’t. George had the infant taken to the workhouse. She was raised in St Giles, just like you. Trigg blurted it out one night when he was the worse for drink.’
‘But that’s terrible.’ For a moment she wondered if it was the fever that had affected his mind, but the intensity of his gaze convinced her that he was speaking the truth. ‘Elsie thought her baby was dead.’
‘I told her on her deathbed that her child lived.’ He took a deep, shuddering breath and his cheeks paled to ashen.
‘Don’t tire yourself.’ Sarah chafed his cold hands in an attempt to revive him. ‘Don’t say any more. You must rest now.’
‘I have to tell you everything,’ he said urgently. ‘Trigg discovered the baby girl’s true identity and he blackmailed George.’
‘You told me once that Trigg paid your fine in court, but I could never understand why he would do something like that. It wasn’t like him to be generous.’
‘He’d seen me at the house in Spital Square and he knew I was related to the Fitch family. He spotted a chance to make even more money from my uncle by threatening to expose me as a petty crook, and when that failed he made me work for him until the debt was repaid with interest. I was a fool to get involved . . .’ He broke off, struggling for breath as he fell back on the pillow.
‘You mustn’t worry about anything, Grey. You must concentrate on getting well again. Moorcroft will see to it that justice is done.’
‘It’s too late for me, Sarah. I’m done for.’
‘You mustn’t say things like that.’
‘The truth weighs heavily on my conscience. I should have told Elsie that her child lived as soon as I found out, but I didn’t because I was a coward. I didn’t want her to know that I was involved with a criminal like Trigg.’
‘None of that matters now, Grey.’
‘Yes, it does. I want to die with a clear conscience. You must find her daughter and make sure she’s all right.’
‘I’ll try but it won’t be easy. How old would she be now?’
‘A year or two older than you.’
‘Do you remember her name?’
Grey’s eyes opened wider and he gripped her hand so hard that she cried out with pain. His lips formed a word but she could not hear what he was trying to tell her. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Nan . . .’ The word escaped from his lips like a sigh and his head fell to one side. His eyes were closed as if he had fallen into a peaceful sleep.
‘Grey. Speak to me.’ Sarah laid her head on his chest, listening in vain for a heartbeat. ‘No . . .’ She buried her face in her arms and sobbed.
‘I can’t have a dead body in one of my best rooms.’ Mrs Kenny stood arms akimbo, glaring at Sarah. ‘It’s bad for business. I’ll send my boy for the undertaker.’
‘No.’ Sarah dashed her hand across her eyes. ‘I must take him home.’
Mrs Kenny raised an eyebrow. ‘And where is that, may I ask?’
‘I don’t think it’s any of your business. My friend will be here soon and then we’ll make arrangements.’
A flicker of doubt crossed Mrs Kenny’s face. ‘Well he’d better hurry because I want you out of here by tonight. Anyway, it’s best if you leave under the cover of darkness. I don’t want the neighbours to see a corpse being carted out of the house.’ She turned on her heel and marched out of the room.
Sarah remained at the bedside, keeping a vigil over Grey’s body as it lay cold and still beneath the sheet. Even though she knew he had gone from her, she still found it hard to believe that he could have succumbed to a simple fever when he had survived shipwreck and near drowning, but the sea had claimed his life as surely as if he had been swallowed up by the waves. It seemed that she had only to love someone and they were taken from her. The Thames had robbed her of her father, and she had watched her mother die in the squalid surroundings of the workhouse labour ward. Elsie had survived the fire only to succumb to her injuries and now Grey was dead. He had been a fallible human being and had fallen into a life of crime, but she had always felt safe in his company, and there was no one who could fill the gap his passing had left in her heart and in her life.
She wept until she could cry no more, and she must have fallen asleep as she was awakened by the sound of voices and footsteps outside her room. The door opened and she snapped upright in her chair, blinking as her eyes grew accustomed to candlelight.
‘Sarah, my dear. We’ve just heard the sad news.’
‘Mr Moorcroft.’ She rose stiffly to her feet and flung herself into his arms. ‘You came.’
‘Of course I did, Sarah. When I heard Davey’s account of your trials nothing would keep me from you.’
She glanced over his shoulder and saw Davey standing beside Mrs Kenny. He hurried to her side. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said softly.
‘Grey’s gone,’ Sarah murmured, choking back a sob. ‘He died this morning.’
‘And I want the corpse out of here,’ Mrs Kenny said firmly. ‘This is a respectable lodging house and I’ve got my reputation to think of. There’s nothing that will put customers off more than a death in one of the letting rooms.’
Moorcroft turned on her, glowering. ‘While I appreciate your concern, my good woman, I can assure you that we will take all the necessary steps. Now if you want to be of assistance I suggest you send for a laying-out nurse and an undertaker.’
‘No.’ Sarah clasped his hand. ‘I want Grey taken home to Blackwood. I don’t want to leave him here where no one knew him.’
Davey slipped his arm around her waist, giving her a comforting hug. ‘I’m sure it can be arranged.’
Moorcroft nodded. ‘Of course. And I’m sure that Mrs Kenny will see that my instructions are carried out.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Mrs Kenny backed away. ‘I’ll see to it now.’
Moorcroft waited until the door closed on her. ‘Dreadful woman. I wouldn’t spend the night here if she gave me bed and board for nothing.’ He turned to Sarah with an encouraging smile. ‘You look exhausted, my dear. We’ll wait until the undertaker arrives and then we’ll set off.’
‘We’re travelling overnight?’ Sarah looked from one to the other. ‘But you must be tired after coming all the way from London.’
‘I’ve booked rooms at the hotel not far from here,’ Moorcroft said, glancing round the room with a look of distaste. ‘We’ll catch the London train in the morning and break our journey there. Sophia is eager to see you and so is Nettie.’