Daisy Belle

by Caitlin Davies

  ‘Later,’ I told her, ‘you’re not ready for that yet. First you need to learn how to swim in a pond, it’s not like the baths you know.’

  ‘What are those?’ She pointed at three grey cygnets sitting on a patch of water lilies next to their mother.

  ‘Those are baby swans, so be respectful when you’re in the water because the mothers are very protective.’

  ‘Are there really fish in there?’

  The boatman nodded. ‘Watch out for the pike, they can give you quite a nip. And don’t go anywhere near the whale.’

  ‘A whale?’ Hettie’s eyes grew wide.

  ‘There aren’t any whales,’ I laughed, ‘although do you remember how I told you that once I swam in a whale tank?’

  But she wasn’t listening; all the other girls were standing obediently in line but Hettie had started walking down the grassy bank.

  ‘Hey!’ called the boatman.

  But she was mesmerised; she had reached the jetty now and any moment would be making her way along it.

  ‘Hettie!’ I called. ‘You have never been in a pond before and you must wait while I —’

  But still she didn’t respond and the further she went down the jetty the more annoyed and worried I grew because I couldn’t come after her.

  ‘Hettie,’ I called again, ‘will you wait!’

  And that’s when she did it: one second she was on the jetty, the next she’d tipped forward and jumped in and the boatman was running and shouting and red in the face. The water closed around her as if she’d never been there and for a moment I was full of terror. What had I been thinking of, bringing her here when she didn’t understand the dangers?

  Then Hettie’s head popped up. ‘There’s no bottom!’ she cried.

  ‘Come out at once!’ I shouted as her head went under again. ‘Hettie!’

  Then the boatman was on the jetty, lowering his hook into the pond, sweeping it around, trying to catch her.

  Again she reappeared, laughing. ‘I can’t see my feet!’ But this time the boatman had caught her. He hooked the back of her costume and began to drag her out like a stork carrying its young, before depositing her on the jetty.

  A moment later she was running up the bank, shivering and waving at the other girls. Then she saw my face and stopped.

  ‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ I said.

  Hettie looked abashed and stared down at the grass.

  ‘You will never be a proper swimmer if you don’t do as you’re told. If you ever want to dive from that platform then learn to listen. Don’t take more risks than you need to, Hettie. If I tell you to wait then you must wait.’

  I heard the sound of men’s laughter from somewhere behind and I turned my head to one side to hide a smile, because despite my scolding I knew full well that I would have done exactly what Hettie had just done, unable to resist the lure of a pond. Then Miss Hope handed me a towel, and I drew it around Hettie and pulled her close.

  ‘Why do we have to wait until the men have finished?’ she asked.

  I didn’t answer, only continued to dry her hair.

  ‘Did you ever beat a man?’

  ‘Did I ever beat a man?’ I laughed. ‘Oh yes. I could dive higher and swim longer than any man and if you do as you’re told then that’s what I’ll teach you too.’

  ‘I want to go in again,’ said Hettie.

  ‘No, not now. Not when you wouldn’t listen. You will have to stay here while the other girls have their turn.’

  ‘I’m going to tell my Pa I can swim in a pond.’

  I released the towel, letting her hold it herself. ‘Does he know that you’re here?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘shall we keep it a surprise until you are able to dive from that platform?’ And as Hettie went back into the hut to change I looked around at the water and the banks and the causeway, and I wondered how long we could be here before Dob found us.

  *

  But I was right to take Hettie to the bathing pond on Hampstead Heath, for she loved it there and as the weeks went by so her stamina increased. The boatman got used to us, as long as we came early then he let Miss Hope’s pupils swim whatever the day of the week and sometimes he even made the men and boys wait until they had finished. I think he was impressed with Hettie’s perseverance and the way she was so full of bounce and smiles.

  I took so much pleasure in her pleasure at the pond, wanting her never to lose the wonderful freedom and ease she felt when she swam. I could enjoy the water through her enjoyment, despite my frustration that while Miss Hope could run and pace the girls I had to stay in my place at the top of the bank. One morning I told Hettie to continue swimming even though she said she was tired, because I wanted her to know that feeling of power that comes from a long swim, a feeling that every girl should know.

  It was then that I began to dream of water again. There had been a time when I used to dream I was swimming and woke so unbearably sad that the following night I would not want to sleep at all. But now I dreamed of so many places, of the Margate sands and the Lambeth Baths, of the River Thames and the bays of New York. Yet in all these dreams, of seas and pools and rivers, there was still something missing for I was never in the water: I was always a spectator, just as I was with Hettie.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  One morning Billy and I arrived at the pond late and there were men behind us coming for their swim. But I made my brother stop awhile so we could watch through the trees, for this was the day I had decided to tell the truth. Because that little girl who made her way across the pond as happy as a seal, the little girl who would soon be waving to me from the water, is you of course. My daughter. The baby who was stolen from me, the child who Billy found at the Hornsey Road Baths. This is your story as much as mine, Hettie; this is the tale I wanted to tell you.

  But there was no private time in which to speak that day and the moment I arrived I heard you cry out to the other girls, ‘Miss Belle is here! I told you she would come.’ Then you clambered out of the pond and up the grassy bank to stand next to me. ‘Can you swim?’ you asked, tugging on my arm. ‘They don’t believe me.’

  ‘Me?’ You hadn’t asked what I was able to do before. You hadn’t queried why I was in my chair; you even seemed to take it for granted. ‘Not in this I can’t,’ I said.

  ‘But I thought you don’t need legs to swim.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Billy, pleased that you had remembered his story about Captain Camp.

  ‘But how would I get in the water?’ I asked. ‘I can’t walk down that bank. And even if I could, then how would I get out?’ I tried to sound light-hearted, but it was something I’d been thinking of long and hard as I did my exercises at home and built up the muscle in my arms. Was it possible that I could swim again, could I find a way?

  ‘What if someone carried you?’ you asked.

  I made a face; I didn’t want to be carried by anyone. ‘Well, they would have to be very strong.’ I looked at you, standing there trying to persuade me, and suddenly I could see Johnnie Heaven in every single part of you, from the curl of your hair to the way you bounced on your toes, and I squeezed my eyes shut, hearing myself sigh.

  ‘I will,’ you said, not understanding what had made me sigh. ‘When I’m older, I will take you into the pond,’ and you threw yourself at me and for a second I flinched; I didn’t want your pity. But then I felt your arms around my shoulders, your heart beating against mine, and when I looked up at Billy I saw he had tears in his eyes.

  Suddenly you pulled away. ‘I’m sad,’ you said.

  ‘Why are you sad?’ I smiled.

  ‘Because I love the pond.’

  ‘I know you do. Whatever is wrong?’

  Then you balled your hands into fists and began banging them against your sides. ‘I’m not allowed to come here any more.’

  ‘Hettie,’ I reached out and took you by the shoulders, ‘what do you mean? Is it your father, does he know we’re here?’<
br />
  ‘My Ma told him.’ You shifted from foot to foot. ‘She went to see him.’

  ‘Where did she go to see him?’ I asked.

  But you shrugged and I could see you didn’t know the answer.

  ‘Does he know it’s me who is teaching you?’

  You nodded worriedly; perhaps you sensed my fear. ‘Ma says I’m not to swim in a pond any more. It’s dirty.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ I said, ‘natural water is the best place for a swimmer to be. And they can’t stop you, Hettie, no one can. I won’t let them.’

  ‘After tomorrow,’ you said, shaking your head in a miserable fashion. ‘I’m not allowed to come any more,’ and then you started to cry.

  ‘We will find a way,’ I promised, glancing up at my brother. ‘Somehow, we will find a way.’ But in truth I didn’t know how.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The following morning was strangely chilly; the boatman wore his overcoat while I had a blanket wrapped around my legs for warmth. The air was cooler than the water and steam rose from the pond like a mystical vapour, softening the edges of the trees and silencing the birds. But beautiful as the pond was that day, I was sick with worry. Billy had left on an errand the afternoon before and not come back. It wasn’t like him to let me down, when all night long I’d been thinking and worrying. I had only just found my child, and now I could lose you again.

  Violet wasn’t sure where my brother had gone and I was forced to send word to Miss Hope. She dispatched a man from the Hornsey Baths to take me to the pond and it was an unpleasant journey for both of us. I couldn’t think what had happened to my brother, why wasn’t he here on this, our last day?

  I allowed you to dive higher that morning and you set off, climbing the steps to the first platform, delighted with yourself. I smiled to see you so perfectly poised and to know that you had listened to the lessons I had given you, and after you took the plunge and came to the surface I heard the sound of clapping from the causeway. When I looked across the pond I saw a group of people waving hats and handkerchiefs, and then my eyes fell on a figure standing alone, impatiently tapping an umbrella on the ground. I thought I heard the faint tune of a mouth organ being played and then the sounds of the fairground starting up with a terrible clang of bells and whistles, as I sat there, clutching my stick, watching.

  I realised you had got out of the water and were shouting from the jetty. ‘You’re not looking!’ you cried.

  ‘Yes I am,’ I replied, ‘that was very good, only this time hold your arms higher.’

  So you started to climb the steps again but as much as I wanted to watch you, I couldn’t tear myself away from the figure on the causeway. Did I know him or not? Then I saw him walk on and become lost in the crowd.

  ‘Are you unwell?’ asked Miss Hope. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Shall I fetch you a drink?’ She went to the boatman’s hut and returned with a cup of tepid water and I tried to sip slowly, to calm myself.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I told her, ‘I just had a fright.’

  But then I heard the gate to the pond squeak open and the boatman cry, ‘Hey! What d’you think you’re doing? No gentlemen when the girls are swimming!’ And as I listened to the sound of boots crunching on the gravel outside his hut I knew that my worst fears had come true.

  I glanced down to the pond, saw you climb out of the water, shaking your head like a puppy. ‘Watch me!’ you cried as you headed up to the platform and again you steadied yourself, took a deep breath and as swift as anything, in you dived. Then I heard a man whistling and I braced myself for what was to come, because whatever Dob said, I would fight for you.

  ‘Oh Moses,’ came a voice from behind, ‘will you look at that!’

  I felt my heart unclench, my body flooding with giddy relief as slowly I turned my head. I knew that voice; I had heard it so many times in my dreams. Yet how could it be true? There he stood, wearing a heavy English overcoat, but looking much as he had done all those years ago at Rockaway except for a scattering of grey in his fine brown hair. He hadn’t noticed me, he was watching as you set off swimming across the pond, using what had become your favourite stroke, arms stretched out as if pulling yourself over an invisible fence. ‘What a kiddo,’ he said; shaking his head in wonder, and that was when he saw me. The air around us seemed to darken; the leaves on the trees fell still, as he tipped his hat with a polite ‘Ma’am’. Then he took a step forward, his eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘Daisy?’ he asked, his hat clutched in his hand.

  I looked at him in silence, not wanting to break the spell. How fine he looked and how much I had missed him. But how could Johnnie Heaven be here at this London pond? Any moment now I would wake and he’d be gone.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I whispered.

  ‘Why, I’ve come to find you.’ Johnnie Heaven walked closer and fell to his knees on the grass. ‘What happened?’ he asked. He moved to take my hand but I brushed him off, uncomfortable at how he must see me, sitting here gripping my stick. I wanted to stand and take him in my arms, and yet I could not. But then I thought, why should I not be seen? I was still me. Whatever had happened, I was still me.

  ‘I had an accident,’ I told him, ‘during a dive.’

  ‘But you told me…’ Johnnie Heaven paused, ‘that you had recovered.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t.’

  ‘I didn’t know you were hurt. That’s why I waited for you, on that Dover beach of yours like a lonesome fool…’

  ‘I told you not to wait for me.’

  ‘But I did. I did wait because I never believed you wouldn’t come. I never believed you would stay with your husband. I didn’t know this,’ he gestured at my chair. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  I sighed, picturing myself in the hospital, remembering how desperate I had been. ‘I just wanted you to be free.’

  ‘Free!’ Johnnie Heaven stood up, brushing the grass from his trousers. ‘How could I be free without you? Who do you think I’ve thought of all these years? Daisy, you are the one who spurred me on. You gave me encouragement. We understand each other, you and I.’

  I smiled then and allowed him to take my hands, saw how translucent his nails were, the fingers of a swimmer. ‘However did you know I was here?’

  ‘Your brother sent word to me at Dover yesterday. I’m in training again. I didn’t manage the Channel that summer I waited for you. Failed for the third time,’ he laughed, ‘but now here I am back to try once more. Oh Daisy, I wish you had told me. I would have come at once; I would have looked for you everywhere. I thought you had changed your mind. That you had stayed with your husband after all.’ Johnnie Heaven let go of my hands and looked at me, waiting for an answer.

  I shook my head. ‘I didn’t stay with him. I haven’t seen him for years.’

  We heard splashing from the pond then; you had swum to the jetty and were turning somersaults and showing off, desperate to be seen.

  ‘She’s quite a swimmer,’ said Johnnie Heaven.

  I nodded. ‘Indeed she is.’

  ‘Hey kiddo,’ he called out, cupping his hands to his mouth. ‘Swim some more!’ He stared at you for quite some time as you made your way across the pond to the other girls. ‘Well what d’you know? She has a stroke just like mine. Did you train her?’ Then he paused and looked from me to you. ‘Is she your child?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said and I took a deep breath, steadied myself for what I had to say. ‘She is yours and mine.’

  ‘Yours and mine?’ I saw the shock on Johnnie Heaven’s face and for a dreadful moment I thought he might ask if I were sure. But then I saw his expression of surprise turn into one of pleasure and I knew he was thinking of our night at Rockaway.

  ‘But she doesn’t know,’ I told him. ‘That is the terrible thing. My husband stole her when she was born. I have only just found her. She doesn’t know I’m her mother.’

  I heard a cough from behind and turned to see Billy standing by the boatman’s hut. ‘You can tell her,’ he said, ‘b
ecause I’ve found Dob.’

  I stared at my brother, unable to understand why he was smiling.

  ‘He’s in Newgate.’

  ‘Dob is in prison?’

  ‘Fraud,’ said Billy. ‘And this is his second time. That’s why I couldn’t ever find him.’

  ‘So he can’t harm us?’ I asked. ‘He can’t stop Hettie and me?’

  ‘No.’

  I looked up then, just as the sun broke through the gloom, the clouds slid away and the tops of the trees blazed with light.

  ‘Watch me!’ you cried from down in the pond and Johnnie Heaven laughed. ‘Do you swim together, Daisy?’

  ‘No,’ I shook my head. ‘I haven’t swum since the dive.’ And then, as suddenly as if I’d been lifted up by a powerful wave, I knew that this was the time. If ever I was going to swim then it was now. ‘I can still use my arms,’ I told him, ‘and walk with my stick. It’s getting in that is the difficulty. I would need two people to lift this chair…’

  Johnnie Heaven looked at my brother and Billy nodded. So I pushed off my blanket, eased myself as far back into the chair as I could, and together they lifted me down the grassy bank. How still and sharp the water was, how graceful were the cygnets at the far end of the pond, nearly fully-grown and ready to fly. I stood up between the two of them, making my way slowly to the jetty, then Billy helped me to sit and took off my boots.

  I was fully clothed, it was a foolish thing to do, but I closed my eyes and waited for the glorious moment when I would go, when my mind would tell my body to take the plunge. I held out my arms and pushed myself forward, and then with all the force I could muster I threw myself off the jetty. A second later, I was under the water gasping from the cold. Would I sink? Of course I would not sink, I was my father’s child. If one limb didn’t work then I knew to use the others. But I had no momentum without both of my legs and as the left one dragged beneath me I knew I had to try to find a new balance in the water. I thought of the day Father had first taught me to swim at the second-class pool at the Lambeth Baths, the way he’d patted my chest. ‘Here,’ he had said, ‘this is where the floating power is, here in your lungs. Trust the water, Daisy.’ And I knew I had to confide in the power of water again. I must find my own buoyancy. So I struck out with my arms, turning myself this way and that until I was steady.