A Place Called Home

by Dilly Court

  ‘Your grandfather has the police looking for you, but I’ve no intention of taking you to Albemarle Street,’ Linus said casually.

  ‘I won’t go anywhere with you. Let me go or I’ll scream and me friends will come and save me.’ She caught sight of Peckham, who was romping with another mongrel. She whistled and he was suddenly alert. He came bounding up to them, wagging his tail.

  ‘If that cur bites me I’ll kill him,’ Linus said through clenched teeth. ‘Keep him quiet or it’s the last you’ll see of him.’ He twisted her arm, making her yelp.

  Peckham leapt at him and Linus kicked out with his foot.

  ‘Don’t hurt him,’ Lucy cried. ‘I’ll do what you want.’

  He propelled her past the public house and into the next street, where a carriage was waiting. ‘Get in,’ he said gruffly as the coachman leapt down to open the door.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere with you.’ Lucy sent a pleading look at the coachman but he turned his head away.

  ‘Yes, you will,’ Linus said firmly. ‘I’m taking you to find your grandmother. That’s what you want, isn’t it?’

  ‘Really?’ Lucy stared at him, trying to decide whether he was telling the truth. ‘You know where my granny is?’

  ‘Of course. How else would I have known exactly where to find you?’

  She decided that it was worth the risk. ‘All right, but my dog comes with me.’ For a moment she thought he was going to refuse, but he gave her a curt nod and she climbed into the carriage, followed by Peckham. He jumped onto her lap and she held him so close that she could feel his small heart beating nineteen to the dozen. The warmth of his body gave her courage and she sat very still, staring out of the window so that she did not have to look at Linus when he took his seat opposite her. He tapped the roof with his cane and the carriage moved forward, slowly at first and then picking up speed.

  The city streets flashed past the windows, which at first was exciting as every hoofbeat was taking her closer to her grandmother, but the journey seemed to be taking a long time. Linus sat with his eyes closed, although Lucy did not think that he slept. She cleared her throat noisily in an attempt to attract his attention. ‘Are you sure we’re going the right way?’

  He opened one eye. ‘It’s none of your business, so shut up.’ He opened both eyes when Peckham growled deep in his throat. ‘And keep that mongrel quiet or I’ll pitch him out onto the road.’

  Lucy subsided into silence, stroking the dog’s head. It seemed strange that her grandmother had come this far, when they had always lived and worked in a small area of the East End. The manufactories and mills were giving way to flat and featureless open countryside: Lucy was beginning to panic. ‘Where are you taking me? Granny wouldn’t have come this far out of London.’

  ‘Ask no questions, and you’ll be told no lies,’ Linus said smugly. ‘That’s what my nanny used to say to me.’

  Lucy could see that she was not going to get an answer, but she was growing more suspicious with every passing minute. She considered the likelihood of being fatally injured if she were to open the carriage door and jump out, abandoning the idea almost instantly. A broken neck would not solve her problems. She settled back against the leather squabs. If she bided her time until they stopped somewhere she might be able to give Linus the slip and make her way back to London.

  She awakened with a start, realising that she must have fallen asleep. The inside of the carriage was in semi-darkness, but only a short while ago it had been morning. She peered out of the window and saw that they were in what looked like the middle of a forest. When the coachman opened the door she knew for certain that they were a long way from the polluted atmosphere of the city: the air smelled fresh and clean, with just a hint of wood smoke and the rich, fruity aroma of damp soil.

  Linus roused himself. ‘This is your destination, Lucy Pocket.’ He alighted from the carriage, leaving the coachman to assist Lucy. Peckham jumped to the ground and ran off into the trees, barking excitedly.

  ‘Where are we?’ Lucy asked anxiously. ‘Where’s my granny?’

  ‘Why don’t you go into the cottage and see if she’s there?’

  The grim smile on his face confirmed her suspicion that she had been tricked. There was a triumphant set to his shoulders as he strolled towards the open cottage door. ‘Meg, where are you? What sort of welcome is this for your lord and master?’

  Lucy turned to the coachman. ‘Where are we, mister?’

  ‘Epping Forest, miss. I wouldn’t advise you to wander off on your own.’ He climbed back onto the box, delving into the capacious pocket of his greatcoat and bringing out a pipe and a tobacco pouch. It was obvious to Lucy that he was not going to help her, no matter how much she pleaded.

  ‘Don’t just stand there, child.’ Linus turned and beckoned to her. ‘This is your new home.’

  A young woman emerged from the cottage, brushing her mousy hair back from her forehead with a work-worn hand. Even at a distance of several feet Lucy could see the dark shadows beneath eyes which appeared too large for her pale face. She must, Lucy thought, have been beautiful once, but she looked as fragile as a winter rose, faded and dying from the cold. Linus slipped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the lips. Even to Lucy’s inexperienced eyes it appeared to be a possessive gesture rather than an affectionate one. ‘I’ve brought you a helper, my dear,’ he said, pointing at Lucy, who stood motionless and undecided. ‘This is Lucy Pocket. She’ll be living with you from now on.’

  ‘I can’t look after another child, Linus. I have my hands full already.’ Meg clutched her belly in a gesture that Lucy recognised, having seen it many times in women worn away to almost nothing by constant child-bearing.

  ‘Lucy will help you with the children,’ Linus said casually. ‘You’ve got Bramwell to help with the chores, and Hester to keep you all fed. What more do you want, woman?’

  ‘Have you come to stay this time, Linus?’ Meg asked wearily. ‘If so, you’d better come in, and bring the child with you.’ She retraced her steps, dragging her feet as if every step was an effort.

  Linus threw up his hands. ‘Women! Who knows what goes on in their little minds?’ He glared at Lucy. ‘Get inside. I’m not telling you again.’

  Reluctantly, and partly because it had started to rain, Lucy followed him into the cottage, and was immediately assailed by the delicious aroma of baking bread and something savoury that was bubbling away in a pot on the range. The kitchen was surprisingly large, with a beamed ceiling from which hung bunches of herbs and strings of onions. Ladder-back chairs with rush seats surrounded a pine table, which was littered with cooking utensils. A middle-aged woman, who Lucy assumed must be Hester, was up to her elbows in water at the stone sink. She gave Lucy a curious glance and then carried on with what she was doing. Meg hurried across the flagstone floor to pick up a small girl, who was sobbing and pointing at a little boy who had a wooden doll in his hand and was swinging it around his head.

  ‘Bertie, you bad boy,’ Meg said crossly. ‘Give it back to Vicky. It’s not your toy.’

  Linus looked on with barely veiled impatience. ‘Can’t you stop her crying, Meg? Why is it that I come home to nothing but wailing infants?’

  ‘It’s not as if you had nothing to do with their coming into the world, Master Linus.’ Hester stopped what she was doing to glare at Linus.

  Lucy could hardly believe that a servant would dare to speak to Linus in such a way. She fully expected him to berate her for her insolence, but he merely shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘You’re a religious woman, Nanny. I thought you would call it God’s will that we’ve been so blessed.’

  ‘Stop it, Linus. Don’t tease Hester.’ Meg took the doll from the boy and thrust it into the hands of her sobbing daughter. She picked her up and cradled her in her arms. ‘There, there, dear. You have your dolly back, so all is well.’

  ‘The children would be more blessed if they’d been born on the right side of the blanket,’
Hester said gloomily. ‘Your poor mother would die of shame if she knew how you’d turned out, Master Linus.’

  ‘Well, as she’s been dead for ten years it’s not going to upset her now. I should have pensioned you off ages ago, but I kept you on out of the goodness of my heart.’

  ‘You kept me on because I’m useful to you. I work for almost nothing, and do my best to look after Meg and the babies. It’s a pity you don’t do more for them.’

  Lucy held her breath. She had seen Linus in a temper and she waited for him to erupt in anger. Meg seemed to share her concern and she stepped in between Linus and the irate Hester. ‘That’s enough, Hester. Don’t let’s spoil the short time that my husband is with us, my dear.’ She set Vicky down on the floor and the little girl toddled over to her brother, waving her doll in triumph.

  ‘Common-law, not legally wed,’ Hester muttered, hobbling over to the range and opening the oven door. She closed it again. ‘Another five minutes or so and the bread will be ready. I suppose you will want to eat in the dining room now that he’s home?’

  ‘Thank you, Hester. The master and I will take our meal together, but I think perhaps Lucy would be more comfortable if she ate in the kitchen with you and the children.’ Meg turned to Lucy with a gentle smile. ‘Bram will be in soon for his midday meal. He’s a bit older than you, but I’m sure you’ll be friends.’

  ‘I’m Sir William’s granddaughter,’ Lucy said with dignity. ‘And I’ve been brought here against my will.’ She pointed at Linus. ‘He told me that he was taking me to my granny, and he lied.’

  Meg’s blue eyes widened and her pretty mouth drooped at the corners. ‘Is this true, Linus?’

  He seized her by the arm. ‘I think we need to talk in private.’ He propelled her towards a door at the back of the room. ‘Bring me a bottle of my good claret; better still, the child can make herself useful. She can wait on us, Nanny. Don’t say that I never think of your aged bones.’ His laughter echoed round the kitchen as he left, taking Meg with him.

  ‘Well now. Here’s a pretty kettle of fish.’ Hester looked Lucy up and down as if calculating the cost of her outfit. ‘I think I can guess the reason why you’re here, Lucy Pocket. I didn’t know Sir William had a granddaughter.’

  ‘Well, he does, and it’s me,’ Lucy said angrily. ‘I don’t want to be here any more than I wanted to live in that big house in Mayfair. I’ve run away once and I can do it again.’

  At the sound of her raised voice both children started to bawl and Hester rushed over to them. ‘Now look what you’ve done. You’ve upset my little darlings.’

  Lucy ran to the door and wrenched it open. She raced outside and found herself caught in a heavy shower. Blinded by the rain she cannoned into someone with such force that they were both knocked off their feet.

  Chapter Seven

  LUCY FOUND HERSELF lying in a puddle winded and gasping for breath, with Peckham licking her face.

  ‘Look where you’re going, nipper.’ A boy scrambled to his feet and stood looking down at her with a puzzled expression on his freckled face. ‘Who are you?’ He held out his hand and helped her up, ignoring the dog’s threatening growls. ‘Good dog,’ he said firmly. ‘I mean her no harm.’

  ‘It was your fault,’ Lucy gasped. ‘I was just walking out of the door.’

  ‘You were racing as if the devil himself was on your heels.’ He pulled her into the porch. ‘I’m soaked to the skin and now you are too. What’s your name?’

  She shook free from his grasp. ‘Let me pass. You can’t keep me here.’

  ‘Go on then,’ he said with a wave of his hand. ‘Run if you must, but you won’t find your way through the forest. You’ll be lost and you’ll never find your way out.’

  Lucy glanced at the coachman, who had taken shelter in the log store, but he was staring into space, smoking his pipe, oblivious to anything that was going on around him. ‘I ain’t afraid of nothing,’ she said crossly. ‘Tell me which path to take and I’ll be off.’

  He ran his hand through his wet hair, brushing it back from his forehead. His eyes sparkled as if he was about to burst out laughing at any moment, and his generous lips curved in a grin. ‘You’re a spunky little thing, but you still haven’t told me your name, or what you’re doing here.’

  Lucy shivered. Her clothes were wet and she was close to tears, but she was not going to let herself down in front of a stranger. ‘I’m Lucy Pocket.’

  ‘Bramwell Southwood, commonly known as Bram,’ he said, shaking her hand. ‘I’m Meg’s brother, but you’re a bit of a puzzle. I suppose he brought you here, because we don’t get visitors in the normal run of things.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the carriage. ‘It was a bad day when Meg took up with Daubenay. I hope you’re not his kid.’

  ‘Indeed I’m not,’ Lucy said indignantly. ‘He kidnapped me and he’s going to leave me here.’ The words tumbled from her lips. She had not meant to tell this strange boy so much and she watched him closely, trying to judge his reaction. Would he help her? Or would he think she was lying?

  He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut short by the sudden appearance of Hester. She caught Lucy by the scruff of the neck. ‘I can see you’re going to be a pest,’ she said, sighing. ‘Haven’t I got enough on my hands without having a runaway child to look after?’ She propelled Lucy into the kitchen, followed by Bram and the dog.

  ‘I’m not a runaway,’ Lucy protested. ‘I’ve been kidnapped. I just told this boy so but I don’t think he believed me.’

  Hester let her go, shaking her head. ‘You’re wet through.’ She turned to Bram. ‘And you’re leaving muddy footprints on my clean floor. I don’t know what the world is coming to.’

  Bram shrugged his shoulders, looking down at Hester from his superior height. Despite everything Lucy was impressed. At a guess she put his age at fourteen, or maybe fifteen, but he was tall and broad-shouldered, making him seem much older. Despite her reservations she found herself drawn to him. He looked like someone she might be able to trust, and she liked the way his hazel eyes twinkled. He bent down to drop a kiss on Hester’s lined cheek. ‘Don’t blame me, Hester my darling.’ His expression darkened. ‘Linus is the one to blame for us being stuck in the middle of nowhere, and it seems he brought the kid here against her will.’

  Hester gave Lucy a searching look. ‘Is this true, child?’ She frowned thoughtfully. ‘It would account for the fact that she doesn’t seem to have any luggage.’

  ‘I was trying to find my granny. Sir William paid her to give me up, but I know she didn’t want to lose me. We was always close.’

  ‘Who is Sir William?’ Bram asked curiously. ‘None of this makes sense.’

  ‘Sir William Marriott says he’s my grandfather.’

  Hester stared at her, frowning. ‘Then you must be Julius’s daughter. That would make Linus your second cousin, or something like that. How come I’ve never heard of you until this day?’

  Lucy shrugged her shoulders. ‘Don’t ask me. I didn’t know who my pa was until a short while ago. Ma ran off when I was two and I’ve always lived with my nan. That is until Sir William turned up and spoiled things. He wants me to grow up to be a lady.’

  ‘And you’re in line to inherit his fortune,’ Hester mused. ‘No wonder Linus wants to get rid of you.’

  ‘You understand.’ Lucy’s voice broke on a sob. ‘I think he wants to kill me.’

  ‘What nonsense is this?’

  The sound of Meg’s voice made them turn with a guilty start. Hester moved swiftly to the range and lifted the lid from the bubbling pot. ‘I’ll serve up now, shall I?’

  ‘Where is the claret? The child was supposed to bring it.’ Meg fixed her gaze on Lucy. ‘You’re wet.’ She glanced at her brother. ‘And so are you, Bram. What’s going on? Can’t I have a quiet meal with my husband without all this fuss?’

  ‘Common-law,’ Hester muttered beneath her breath. She lifted the pan from the hob. ‘Sit the little ones in their seats, Meg
,’ she added, jerking her head in the direction of Bertie and Vicky, who had found a common interest in trying to catch Peckham, who so far had managed to dodge their clutching fingers. ‘Bram will fetch the wine and I’ll serve the stew. Let’s hope it’s good enough for Master Linus. He was always a fussy eater.’

  Lucy’s first reaction was to save Peckham from being mauled by two lively little children, but it was obvious that he could take care of himself, and she helped Hester by slicing the bread and spreading it with butter. She would eat first, she decided, and make her getaway when Linus had gone. There must be a well-trodden path leading out of the forest and she intended to find it.

  Darkness had fallen with surprising speed considering the fact that it was early summer, but the foliage of the ancient oaks, beeches, silver birch and hornbeam formed a dense canopy, excluding all but the smallest glimpses of sky. Lucy had been walking for hours: she was exhausted and even Peckham, despite his usual boundless energy, was exhibiting signs of fatigue. The dried leaves crunched underfoot and twigs snapped, sending eerie echoes resonating through the forest. There were other sounds that made the hairs on the back of Lucy’s neck stand on end, sounds that were unfamiliar to a city child. Slithering noises in the undergrowth were followed by snorts and snuffles which were chillingly human. Wings flapped in the branches overhead, and nocturnal animals were beginning to wake up and move about. This was their territory and not hers. She sank down against the thick bole of a pollarded oak, with Peckham snuggling up at her side. The thundering of hooves on the hard-packed forest floor was too close for comfort. Visions of a headless horseman galloping through the trees flashed before her eyes, and she screamed in terror, covering her face with her hands.

  Then, in the distance she heard someone calling her name. She held her breath, thinking that once again it was her active imagination playing tricks on her.