Hold On to Hope

by Jean Fullerton

  Then there was Joe, who had been abused and put in fear of his life at the hands of his own father. He had needed Kate’s undivided love and care to restore him.

  Lastly, there was Kate herself, who needed time to adjust to her new circumstances. Jonathan swept his gaze around the room to acknowledge the members of the Nolan family who all smiled at him.

  ‘I know some of you have already met him but to those of you who have not, this is Captain Quinn.’ Patrick led him further into the room. He walked Jonathan around the parlour and introduced him formally. The boys shook his hand and the girls curtsied. Joe stood up and bowed as if they were in school but Ella looked at him knowingly.

  Finally, he reached Kate.

  ‘My sister, Mrs Ellis, you already know, of course,’ Patrick said, with just a trace of amusement.

  ‘I do,’ Jonathan said, gazing down at the woman he would love into eternity.

  She raised her head. ‘Captain Quinn,’ she said softly.

  Jonathan nearly lost himself in her lovely blue eyes.

  ‘And this,’ Patrick said, ‘is my mother.’

  ‘Mrs Nolan,’ Jonathan said, offering her his hand. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you at last.’

  ‘And delighted, I am, to meet you, too, Captain Quinn,’ she said, gripping his hand more firmly than he expected. ‘Patrick, will you fetch a chair so our guest can rest his bones.’

  Patrick did as his mother asked and set it down beside Kate.

  ‘A drink, Captain Quinn?’ Patrick asked.

  ‘Perhaps after dinner,’ Jonathan replied, taking his seat. His leg brushed against Kate’s skirts.

  ‘That colour becomes you, Mrs Ellis,’ he said, in a low voice.

  ‘Thank you,’ Kate replied, her arm pressed against his.

  They exchanged a look and Jonathan only just managed to stop slipping his arm around her waist. He glanced around again.

  ‘You have a lovely home, Mrs Nolan,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you,’ Josie replied, glowing with pride.

  ‘And I noticed you’ve had a daguerreotype taken,’ he said, motioning towards the framed portrait perched on the table mantelshelf.

  ‘Yes. There’s a studio next to the Hoop and Grapes in Aldgate. They have painted scenes to stand against, pot plants and all sorts. We went with Mattie and Nathaniel and they had their likenesses taken, too,’ Josie said.

  ‘And I tell you, it’s the devil’s own job to keep the children still for the image to set, Captain Quinn,’ Mattie added.

  Jonathan laughed. ‘I can believe that.’ He turned to Kate. ‘Didn’t you want a picture of you and your children, Mrs Ellis?’

  Kate’s eyes flickered over his face. ‘Not just at the moment. Perhaps in a month or two.’

  ‘Are you visiting your family at all over Christmas, Captain Quinn?’ Nathaniel asked.

  ‘I am catching the train to St Albans to visit my sister the day after tomorrow but I will be back on the first of January’ – he looked at Kate – ‘as I have some plans to put into place for the New Year.’

  ‘So your second year at St Katharine’s will have everyone talking, too, Captain Quinn,’ Josie said.

  ‘I hope so. In fact, as it will be common knowledge soon, I can tell you that the guardians have agreed to use Mrs Benson’s bequest to enlarge the school. It will mean that I shall be moving from the house as the builders will be making the ground floor into the girls’ classroom. Mr and Mrs Delaney will stay in their quarters above and I’ll need to find somewhere else to live.’

  ‘Have you settled on where?’ Kate’s mother asked.

  ‘I’m not sure exactly but perhaps a house around here might suit me very well. It’s a brisk walk to the school but away from the docks.’ Jonathan gave her a crooked smile. ‘So who knows, Mrs Nolan, in a month or two we may be neighbours.’

  A look of delight flashed into the old woman’s eyes.

  Josie stood up. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Captain Quinn, we have to see to our dinner.’ She signalled to Annie, Beth and Ella who jumped off their chairs.

  Jonathan and the other men in the room rose to their feet as they left.

  ‘And we should set the table up,’ Patrick said.

  ‘Captain Quinn,’ said Sarah. ‘Kate tells me that in your travels you’ve been to my old home town of Kinsale.’

  ‘Indeed I have.’

  ‘We have a painting of the old place in Patrick’s office across the hall.’ A mischievous look crept into her eye. ‘Perhaps you’d like to show it to Captain Quinn, Kate.’

  Kate rose to her feet. ‘Of course, Mother,’ she said, giving Jonathan a look that set his pulse racing.

  He stepped back. ‘After you, Mrs Ellis.’

  Kate brushed past him and walked to the door.

  ‘Can I come, Ma?’ Joe said, scooting around from the other side of his grandmother.

  Sarah caught him. ‘Not just now, Joe, but if you help me up I’ll go and see if there are any marbles in the jar.’

  Kate entered her brother’s study and turned to face Jonathan, her senses and emotions reeling from having him so near. He closed the door then his arm encircled her waist, drawing her to him. Kate melted into him, her hands running up his chest and around his neck. She looked up into his face, hardly believing that she was in his arms again.

  ‘Jonathan, I—’

  His mouth pressed on hers in a demanding kiss. Kate closed her eyes and gave herself up to the pleasure of feeling his body against hers and his lips caressing her mouth, her cheek and her neck.

  ‘I’ve been wanting to do that every day for the last three months,’ he said, as they broke from a breathless embrace.

  Kate ran her hand over his face. ‘I couldn’t believe my eyes when you walked in.’

  He kissed her nose. ‘I dropped in on your brother last week and told him that now your mourning was over, I intended to marry you.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Nothing at all for a moment, then he said, “I can see you’re not a man to be deterred, Captain Quinn, so why don’t you join the family for Christmas dinner?”’ Jonathan replied, in a passable Irish accent.

  Kate laughed and his arm tightened around her. ‘What about an April wedding?’ he said.

  ‘What’s wrong with March?’ she asked, shamelessly nudging his leg with hers.

  A look of desire flashed across his face. ‘February it is, then.’

  ‘We will be the talk of every street corner.’

  ‘We will.’

  ‘And we’ll have to be good until then.’

  ‘Of course.’

  There was a light knock at the door.

  Jonathan raised his head. ‘I love you,’ he whispered.

  ‘And I you,’ she replied. ‘We ought to go back to the parlour.’

  He kissed her again and Kate lost herself once more in the heady pleasure of his embrace.

  There was a second knock.

  ‘We’re dishing up dinner,’ Mattie called through the door.

  ‘We should go through,’ Kate said, gently pushing him away.

  He sighed. ‘February seems a very long way away.’

  ‘That’s true but,’ Kate looked up at him from under her lashes, ‘you could always call in for a coffee on your way home from the Geographical Society.’

  He took her hand and kissed each finger individually. ‘I most certainly will.’

  He stared down at her for a moment then straightened the front of his jacket as Kate repositioned a couple of curls that had been dislodged.

  ‘Oh, and that,’ she said, giving him a quirky smile and pointing to the landscape over her brother’s desk, ‘is the picture you’re supposed to be looking at.’

  ‘Beautiful,’ he replied, not glancing at it.

  The extended table was already loaded with tureens of potatoes, turnips and carrots with a joint of beef at the centre flanked by jars of mustard and pickles. The plates were set out and Patrick was already at the head of the table. As Ka
te walked into the room with Jonathan beside her, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned.

  On the other side of the room Mattie slipped her arm in Nathaniel’s and smiled fondly at them. Josie took Patrick’s. Sarah had tears in her eyes, which brought a lump to Kate’s throat.

  ‘I thought you might like to sit between Kate and Ella, Jonathan,’ Patrick said, as everyone took their seats.

  ‘Thank you, Patrick,’ Jonathan replied, pulling out the chair for Kate.

  As he took his seat he moved it fractionally nearer to her and pressed his knee against her under the table.

  Joe scrambled onto the chair beside Kate.

  ‘Are you enjoying yourself?’ Kate asked.

  He nodded. ‘Christmas is the best day of the year!’

  ‘I am inclined to agree with you, Joe,’ Jonathan said, his gaze flickering onto Kate. ‘Particularly this one.’

  Patrick rose to his feet. ‘If we could bow our heads before we start. And no peeking,’ he said, casting his eyes around the younger children.

  Everyone lowered their heads as Patrick gave thanks for the meal and other blessings. After the ‘amens’ he began to carve the meat, piling it high on each plate. There was a small skirmish between the children over the crunchiest potato and the gravy jug but soon conversation quietened as the family tucked into their feast. When everyone had had another slice of meat, a second helping of turnips and the men had been persuaded to finish off the remaining potatoes between them, Patrick leant back in his chair and patted his belly.

  ‘Well, my love, you’ve done us proud yet again.’

  There was a chorus of approval and Josie inclined her head modestly.

  Mattie dabbed her mouth with her napkin then placed it on the table. ‘I shall be hard-pressed to match such a spread next year.’

  ‘Well you won’t have to, Mattie,’ Kate said, beaming at her family, ‘because I think it must be my turn.’

  Her mother, Mattie, Josie and Nathaniel smiled at her and Patrick rose to his feet and held up his glass.

  ‘I’ll drink to that,’ he said, and everyone raised their own glasses in agreement. He turned to Josie. ‘Now, Mrs Nolan, where’s the plum duff?’

  Josie stood and began to clear the plates.

  Jonathan’s hand found Kate’s under the table. She looked up at him and smiled as she remembered how miserable she had been only twelve short months ago. Now, against all the odds, she was sitting in the midst of her family with Jonathan, the man she loved, beside her. She had been taught some hard lessons and lived through tough times on her way to happiness. And she wasn’t foolish enough to think that life would always be smooth sailing but whatever the future held she knew she would always have Jonathan.

  Acknowledgements

  As with my previous three books, No Cure for Love, A Glimpse at Happiness and Perhaps Tomorrow, I would like to mention a few books, and authors to whom I am particularly indebted.

  As before, I have drawn on Henry Mayhew’s contemporary accounts of the poor in London Labour and the London Poor (edited by Neuburg, Penguin, 1985). His painstaking reporting of the worries, concerns and language of the people he interviewed have helped me set the scenes for all my books. Millicent Rose’s out of print The East End of London (The Cressent Press, 1951) which gives an account of east London before the slum clearances in the late 1950s early 1960s and provides a tantalising glimpse into the tight-knit communities clustered around the London docks.

  I again use several photographic books of old east London including East London Neighbourhoods by Brian Girling (Tempus, 2005), Dockland Life by Chris Ellmers and Alex Werner (Mainstream Publishing, 1991), London’s East End by Jan Cox (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1994) and East End Past by Richard Tames (Historical Publications, 2004). To get Jonathan’s army career right I drew on the comprehensive The Oxford History of the British Army (Oxford, 2003), The British Officer (Clayton, 2007), Lambert and Badsey’s The Crimean War (Alan Sutton, 1994) and Philip Warner’s Army Life in the ’90s which is a reprint of an article from Navy and Army Illustrated which gives a snapshot of the British army at the height of the Empire.

  Kate’s menu came from East London by Walter Besant (1899, reprinted 2005). It also helped me understand the school day at St Katharine’s, as did Victorian Life: School by Nicola Barber. I made use of the BBC’s excellent website http://www.victorianschool.co.uk/ and http://www.bbc.co.uk/schools/primaryhistory/victorian – britain/. Mayhew (cited above) gave me an excellent description of the Blue Coat Boy and Fiona Rule’s comparative and detailed study of Dorset Street in The Worst Street in London (Ian Allan, 2008) helped me fill in the details. Lastly, I would like to mention once more Lee Jackson’s brilliant website The Victorian Dictionary: http://www.victorianlondon.org/

  As ever no book is a single person’s effort so I’d like to thank a few more people. Firstly my husband Kelvin, my three daughters, Janet, Fiona, Amy and my best friend Dee for their unwavering support. My good friends and authors Elizabeth Hawksley and Jenny Haddon who encourage me on when the muddle in the middle seems almost irresolvable. My fellow author and chum Fenella Miller who is always at the end of the phone for a natter. Once again my lovely agent Laura Longrigg, whose encouragement and incisive editorial mind helped me to see the wood for the trees. Finally, but by no means least, a big thank you once again to the editorial team at Orion, especially Natalie Braine, for once again turning my 400+ pages of type into a beautiful book.