by Jane Jackson
‘Thamtoth m’beva –’ He struggled for the translation, failed, and shook his head. ‘My father’s wife, she say thank you.’ He lifted one shoulder. ‘She happy I no d – that I come back,’ he corrected quickly, darting an apologetic glance toward William.
After more rapid conversation his stepmother called over her shoulder.
‘We go up,’ Maggot said as the servant girl came in and was given instructions by her mistress. ‘Is two rooms. Mr Vyvyan in one. You, miss, in other.’
While the girl ran ahead carrying two oil lamps, Kerenza followed Nick and Maggot as they half carried her father up the stairs and through the folding double doors into his room. She would have gone in after them, but Nick barred her way.
‘We’ll get him into bed. Did you bring his bag?’ He smiled his thanks as she handed it to him. ‘The doctor should be here soon. You’ll be all right alone for a few minutes?’
‘Of course.’
He closed the door gently.
Kerenza followed the beckoning maid through the open doors into her room. It was long and narrow. Against the end wall was a large bed with a canopy that touched the low ceiling. A rug with geometric patterns of red, black, and white covered what remained of the floor. A chest and a low table on which the lamp stood completed the furniture. She dropped her bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. She supposed she ought to unpack, but she had another, more urgent need.
‘Do you speak any English?’ she asked the maid, more in hope than expectation. The girl shrugged, spread her hands and shook her head to show she didn’t understand. Cringing with embarrassment, yet unable to think of an alternative, Kerenza went out onto the terrace and, knocking on her father’s door, called softly, ‘Maggot?’
He pulled it open, filling the gap, the lamplight behind him so his face was in shadow. ‘Miss?’
Moistening her lips, knowing he would recognise the shipboard term, she blurted, ‘Where is the – jakes?’
He slapped his forehead. ‘So sorry, miss. Is very bad of me.’ He spoke rapidly over her shoulder to the maid, who had followed her. Kerenza heard the girl’s soft “ahhh” of understanding.
‘You go with Dina,’ Maggot said, and, as she heard Nick ask what was wrong, he closed the door.
They crossed the court, passed through a short passage between two rooms and out into another space that was more of a backyard with a small, windowless building of whitewashed mud. Dina opened the door, handed Kerenza the lamp, then caught her arm. Her voice was soft but emphatic as she lifted her left hand, touched Kerenza’s, and raised her own again. Then, stepping back, she waved Kerenza in.
The little room contained nothing except a clay pot of water standing next to a round piece of wood set into the earth floor. Setting the lamp down, Kerenza grasped the handle, lifted what was obviously a lid, and recoiled at the smell. There could be no doubt she was in the right place.
Greatly relieved and far more comfortable, she scooped water from the clay pot then patted herself dry with her chemise. Shaking out her skirts, she replaced the lid, picked up the lamp, and ducked out through the low doorway.
Back upstairs, she looked over the terrace wall down into the court. Savoury smells wafted upward and she could hear the clatter of dishes. It was dark now, the night air surprisingly chilly after the warmth of the day, and she was glad of her wool jacket.
She looked beyond the dark shapes of houses on the terraces below to the sea where the rising moon cast a silver path across the water. She could see Kestrel riding at anchor, her side lamps lit, others at her bow and stern.
Starting at a rapid knock on the outer door, she watched the servant girl dart across the courtyard. Hearing a man’s voice, she knocked quickly on her father’s door. Nick opened it.
‘I think the doctor’s arrived. I’ll bring him up.’
‘No, you stay, I go,’ Maggot said.
‘I can wait downstairs –’ Nick began.
Kerenza shook her head. ‘I’d rather you stayed – if you don’t mind,’ she added quickly. ‘It’s just – The doctor might ask – and you know more –’
‘Of course I’ll stay if you want me to.’
She nodded, grateful. After introducing herself and Nick, and explaining the cause of her father’s collapse, she retreated to stand near the door while the doctor made his examination. White-haired, stocky, and taciturn, wearing the black coat, waistcoat, and breeches universal to his profession, he beckoned Nick forward and questioned him in a low voice.
After drawing up the covers, he turned to Kerenza. ‘My advice, Miss Vyvyan, is that you remove your father back to England as soon as possible. His physical health is poor, aggravated no doubt by his experiences during the past year. He needs a long period of rest and a mild diet of easily digested foods that will not over-stimulate him. Once he begins to show signs of recovery he would benefit from a tonic. But that lies in the future and the hands of his physician. In the meantime, I suggest laudanum to keep him calm and help him sleep.’
‘I have a mixture containing camphor julep, ether, and magnesia as well as laudanum,’ Kerenza said. ‘It was made up by an apothecary in Falmouth. Would that be –?’
‘Ideal,’ the doctor replied. ‘You know the dosage?’
Kerenza nodded. ‘Doctor, Mr Corbett said you visited my mother during her illness.’
‘I did. A very sad business. It was clear to me that even before she succumbed to the fever Mrs Vyvyan had suffered greatly. Not through any ill-treatment,’ he added quickly. ‘But enforced confinement in a strange land among people she didn’t know had clearly preyed on her mind.’ He sighed, shaking his head. ‘The negative effects on her physical wellbeing and emotional balance meant she simply did not possess the stamina, or perhaps even the will, to fight the fever.’ He shook his head again. ‘Very sad.’
‘And my sister? How is she?’
He turned away. ‘Fortunately, she suffered no such ill-effects.’ He spoke without looking up, his head bent over his bag as he searched for something that proved elusive. ‘Indeed, when I saw her last she appeared to be in excellent health.’ He closed the bag. ‘I must go.’ He glanced toward the bed once more. ‘Mr Vyvyan is unlikely to stir before morning. Sleep will afford him relief from the shock of his loss, and an opportunity for both body and spirit to rest.’
Kerenza offered her hand. ‘Thank you so much for coming.’
He bowed over it, released it, and reached the door all in the space of a few moments. ‘Miss Vyvyan, complete your business here and return to England as soon as you can.’ He hesitated as if about to say more, then gave a brief nod. ‘My condolences.’
‘I’ll see you out,’ Nick offered, a flicker of puzzlement telling Kerenza that he too had noted the doctor’s weighted words and abrupt departure.
As their footsteps faded, Kerenza crossed to the bedside, and looked down at her father. Beneath the brownish purple shadows surrounding his closed eyes and the fine network of crimson veins that covered his nose and patched his cheeks the rest of his face had the greyish tone of wet chalk. At the sound of a soft cough behind her, she turned. Dina beckoned, indicating she should follow.
Back in her room, a bowl of water and a towel had been placed on the table. Pointing to it, the girl then pointed to the door and mimed eating.
As Kerenza smiled her thanks the girl vanished.
After washing her face and hands and tidying her hair, Kerenza left the room and crossed the courtyard, hesitant yet drawn by delicious smells and the sound of Maggot and Nick’s voices.
In the salon two of the low tables had been drawn together in front of one of the couches. An embroidered cloth was covered with a dozen bowls and dishes. As she breathed in the smells of chicken and spices, her stomach cramped and her mouth watered. Guilt-stricken, she stopped. How could she think of food at such a time?
‘Ah, is good you come.’ Maggot waved her in. ‘Please. You sit. Eat now. Need to be strong, yes?’
She hesitated. Bu
t he was right. She would need all her strength. Doubtless the doctor’s advice to leave quickly was well meant. However, the speed of their departure depended on the Governor. If they had to await his pleasure, it would be hard on her father and therefore difficult for everyone else. She sat down, waiting for them both to join her.
‘May I?’ Nick asked, indicating the other end of the couch.
Heat burned in her cheeks as she nodded. ‘Of course, please.’
Maggot remained standing. ‘Enjoy. I go now.’ With a bow and a smile, he strode out.
‘I expect his stepmother will want to hear about everything that happened to him,’ Nick said. He surveyed the table. ‘She’s gone to a lot of trouble.’
He was sitting on the edge of the couch. She realised suddenly that though he was hiding it well he too was nervous. A little of her tension evaporated. She looked at the spread. ‘There’s an awful lot,’ she whispered uncertainly. ‘Surely it can’t be all just for us?’
He nodded. ‘Maggot says it is.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘But we’re not expected to eat everything.’
‘Thank goodness for that.’ Kerenza pressed her fingers to her mouth to smother a nervous giggle. ‘It would be awful to offend her after she’s gone to so much trouble. Though I’m ashamed to admit it I am hungry. But I couldn’t possibly –’
‘Ashamed? Why?’
She looked up at him, folding her hands tightly in her lap. ‘Surely that’s obvious?’
‘Not to me.’
She made a small, diffident gesture. ‘The news of my mother’s death, my father’s collapse –’
‘Neither of which you can reverse. If you were to fall ill through not eating, how would that help?’
‘I know. And you’re right.’ She gazed down at her hands. ‘It’s just –’
‘You should be sitting in a darkened room with a crust and a cup of water?’ His harshness jerked her head up. ‘Haven’t you been made to suffer enough?’ Controlling himself cost him visible effort. ‘Forgive me. I should not have – I had no right –’ He took a breath. ‘Anyway, before you came in Maggot was explaining that while we are not expected to clear the table, we should try to taste every dish. That would make his stepmother very happy.’
‘There are so many,’ Kerenza marvelled. After a moment’s hesitation, she lowered her voice. ‘I recognise the chicken, the rice, and the shredded salad. But do you have any idea what that is?’ She pointed to the largest dish.
‘Couscous. It’s made from a steamed grain mixed with cubes of fried lamb stewed with chickpeas, onions, carrots, eggplant, raisins, and spices.’
As her eyebrows rose in astonishment, he grinned shyly and shrugged. ‘I asked Maggot. It certainly smells good. Would you like to try it?’
She nodded, and looked for plates, cutlery, and serving spoons. ‘Er –’
‘Ah, that’s the other thing he told me. Here, the correct way to eat is with the fingers, taking a little bit from whatever dish you choose.’
She stared at him. ‘You’re not teasing me, are you?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘But you must only use your right hand. That’s really important.’
Kerenza felt her colour rise as she remembered Dina’s instruction outside the privvy. Now she understood the reason for the girl’s insistence. Here each hand had its own purpose. Her stomach gurgled and another cramping pang reminded her it was many hours since she had last eaten. It might be days before the Governor agreed to let Dulcie go. How would she stay well and strong if she didn’t eat?
‘Will you go first?’ she asked shyly.
‘Promise you won’t laugh?’ The exaggerated glare that accompanied this demand sent a ripple of delight down her spine.
‘I wouldn’t dare.’ As his gaze softened, warmed, she flicked her gaze away, and was relieved when he didn’t comment. ‘Go on then,’ she whispered, and watched him lean forward, dip his bunched fingers into the dish of rice and almonds and slivers of chicken, press it lightly into a ball, then lift it to his mouth.
‘Mmmm, that’s delicious,’ he said, swallowing. ‘Come on, you try it.’
Feeling acutely self-conscious, Kerenza picked out small pieces of meat and a stick of green bean. She pinched together a ribbon of lettuce glossy with seasoned oil. But as Nick grew more adventurous, dipping into different dishes, enthusing over the tastes, urging her to try this one then that one, she stopped worrying about the strangeness of eating with her fingers or what she must look like and followed his lead. The flavours, some familiar, some completely new, enhanced rather than satisfied her hunger.
After a few minutes spent concentrating entirely on the food, Kerenza had to ask the question that had been nagging at her. ‘Did you notice anything odd about Mr Corbett? His manner, I mean.’
Reaching for more couscous, Nick paused. ‘Odd in what way?’
Kerenza frowned. ‘I’m not sure. I just had the feeling that there was something he wasn’t telling us. It was the same with the doctor. He wouldn’t meet my eye, and he seemed in a great hurry to leave.’
‘Well, the doctor had come at short notice. Perhaps he had another appointment. You can understand both of them feeling awkward about seeing your father. They must have known that as well as being a shock, the news would come as a terrible blow to him. To have returned as fast as he possibly could only to learn that he’s too late …’ He shook his head.
‘Do you think the Governor really will make us wait several days?’
‘I wish I knew. It would make things a d –’ he corrected himself quickly ‘– a lot easier. I’d have thought that after what’s happened he would want to settle everything and send us away as fast as possible. But who knows how a man like him thinks?’
Dipping his fingers in the small bowl of water, he carefully wiped them on the square of cotton beside it. ‘I –’ he stopped and cleared his throat. Glancing up, Kerenza saw a dull flush of anger darkening his face. ‘When we came through the marketplace –’
Kerenza shuddered. ‘It was horrible. Many of the men looked really angry. They were clicking their tongues as though I had done something wrong. Do you think I have offended in some way?’
He shook his head. ‘Perhaps to them it’s enough that you’re English. I think for your safety it would be wiser if you returned to the ship with me.’
She was startled that he would even suggest it with her father lying ill in the room above. Meeting his gaze, she felt her heart give an extra beat.
‘I – Truly I appreciate your concern. But you must know I can’t.’ She looked away. ‘Maggot’s stepmother would feel deeply insulted at the implication that I am not safe under her roof. Nor can I leave my father. Besides, Maggot is staying, is he not?’ At Nick’s reluctant nod, she spread her hands. ‘What more protection could I need?’
‘In here, perhaps. But out in the street –’
‘I was just thinking, do you think Maggot’s stepmother might lend me an over-gown like the other women were wearing, and a scarf for my head? If I look like everyone else, I’ll be invisible.’
His smile faded as he looked at her intently. ‘You could never be invisible.’ Then, clearing his throat, he added quickly, ‘But you would be less conspicuous. It’s a good idea.’ He pushed himself to his feet. ‘I must go.’
Kerenza stood up. Wiping her fingers on the tiny towel, she held out her hand. ‘Thank you for – everything. You have been very ki –’
‘Don’t.’ Grasping her fingers, he covered them with his other hand. ‘We both know I have not been kind. And I am more sorry for it than you will ever know.’ Raising her hand, he held her gaze as he pressed his lips to her knuckles. ‘I will see you tomorrow.’ With a brief bow, he strode out.
She stared after him, then looked at her knuckles, still feeling the warm pressure of his lips. He had not wished her a good night, or voiced the hope that she would sleep well, not because he had forgotten, or because he lacked good manners. He had not sa
id it because it would have been meaningless.
Because of the bond between them – never entirely severed and growing stronger each day – that made words superfluous, he knew sleep would not come easily for either of them.
Chapter Sixteen
‘Maggot, how do I say thank you?’ Kerenza demanded as he entered the salon. Dina was busy clearing away the dishes.
‘Is no need.’ He waved her plea aside. ‘Is good you enjoy.’ He grinned, gesturing at the dishes. ‘Make you strong.’
‘You don’t understand. Your stepmother has shown us such kindness. What is “thank you” in your language?’
He leant forward, dropping his voice. ‘Ateikum-saha.’
The same words his stepmother had spoken so fervently to Nick. Kerenza repeated them quietly several times, then nodded. ‘One more thing: how do I address her?’ As the small creases between his brows deepened, and he lifted one shoulder indicating he didn’t understand, she tried again. ‘What shall I call her? My name is Kerenza Vyvyan. What is hers?’
While she had been talking, their hostess had come in. After a brief word with Dina, who nodded and scuttled out, her glance swept over the remains of the meal. Raising her eyes to Kerenza’s she smiled, nodded, and clapped her palms softly together.
Turning, Maggot spoke quickly to her. Her gaze flicked to Kerenza then back to her stepson as she replied.
Maggot grinned at Kerenza. ‘She give her name to this place, Riad Zohra.’
Moistening her lips, hoping her attempt would at least be recognisable, Kerenza spoke hesitantly. ‘Ateikum-saha, Zohra.’
Zohra’s hands flew up in delight. Beaming, she clapped them again and released a torrent of speech, nudging Maggot, whose grin widened.
‘She say you talk good. She very happy you stay here.’
Relieved and delighted at this small success, Kerenza bade them both goodnight. Reaching her room, she found a fire burning in the grate and her bag unpacked. Her laundry had gone and so had her nightdress. Lying on the coverlet was a simple gown of fine white cotton lawn with long sleeves and a deep slit in the round neck.