by Anna Jacobs
It was a full half-hour before Mr Barrett returned. He ignored his wife and scowled at Cassandra. ‘The Captain wants to see you. He’s not pleased with our deception.’
Melissa swung her legs off the sofa and stood up. ‘I think I’d better go with her.’
‘I think you’d better stay here, my dear. I don’t want you upset.’
‘Do you want to be the one who empties the slops and helps me when I’m sick in the mornings, Simon?’
He threw up his hands. ‘Oh, do what you want, then. You always do anyway. I’ll never understand women.’
The steward was waiting outside and didn’t see Mrs Barrett behind Cassandra. ‘I’m to take you to the Captain, Mrs Lawson. He’s not in a good mood. What have you been doing? Oh, Mrs Barrett! Sorry. I didn’t see you there.’
Melissa smiled sweetly. ‘I’ve decided to go with my maid. She needs someone to speak up for her. Do you think that’s a good idea, steward? You know the Captain better than I do.’
He winked at Cassandra. ‘I think it’s an excellent idea, Mrs Barrett.’
He led them to the door of the Captain’s cabin, knocked and when a voice called to come in, he opened the door, waved them inside and closed it behind them.
The Captain looked up from his desk, frowning as he saw two women.
‘Please forgive me for coming with Lawson,’ Melissa said, ‘but I’m worried you’ll be angry with her. It’s my fault we kept her identity secret, you see. As I’m in a delicate condition, I was afraid to go on such a long voyage without a maid to help me.’
Cassandra watched her mistress blush and lower her lashes on to her cheeks. How could anyone blush on demand? she wondered. And would it make a difference?
The Captain stared at Mrs Barrett, his expression softening a little. ‘Nonetheless, you should have informed me of the change at once.’
‘I know. And I do apologise for that. But I was so ill when we came on board that I wasn’t thinking clearly. Lawson’s been wonderful, she’s such a hard worker. And all in the middle of her own tragedy. Did my husband tell you about that?’
‘No, but—’
Melissa rushed into an explanation of the death of the supposed husband, the fact that her maid’s only relatives in the whole world were on this ship. ‘So you see, she and I helped one another. And we both crave your forgiveness.’ She nudged Cassandra.
‘I’m really sorry, sir. I don’t like being deceitful but I was desperate.’
‘Hmm.’ He looked her over carefully. ‘It’s no use pretending to be meek. You don’t look at all meek to me. None of those women from Lancashire do. I’m having a lot of trouble with them. Why the Migration Agents always send out the sweepings of the gutter, I don’t know.’
Cassandra opened her mouth to protest hotly at this description being applied to her or her sisters, but a poke in her ribs brought her to her senses about that.
‘I’m sure Mrs Lawson’s sisters are as well-behaved as she is, Captain,’ Mrs Barrett cooed.
‘I shall check that with Matron and let her arrange when it’s convenient for you to see your sisters, Mrs Lawson. Do not disobey me in this. And I’ll have to lay this case before the Governor when we get to Perth. There’s no avoiding that. You’ve not been authorised to go to the colony.’
‘No, sir.’
‘You’d better be on your very best behaviour if you want a good report from me.’
She spoke from the heart. ‘Yes, sir. I’ll do anything to stay with my sisters. They’re all I have left in the world.’ The tears in her eyes were all too real.
He harrumphed and dismissed them with a wave of the hand.
Outside, Cassandra turned to her mistress. ‘I’m so grateful for your support, ma’am.’
Melissa shrugged. ‘I need a maid. What’s more, I expect that when we arrive in Western Australia, you won’t leave me until I can find someone else to replace you.’
‘I’ll do my best to help you in any way I can, I promise.’
But if what she suspected was true, Mrs Barrett wouldn’t want her help.
And then what would Cassandra do?
Isabel decided to receive the lawyer sitting at the dining table which occupied one end of the long, narrow parlour. Everything would be very straightforward, she was sure, and she’d get rid of Mr Featherworth as quickly as she could. She was looking forward to taking charge of the shop and would have started making changes before now, but the lawyer had sent word after the funeral that until the legal situation was settled, it was not possible to give her money from the estate and she shouldn’t do anything differently from usual.
This made her suspect that her husband had left something to his nieces and the thought of that infuriated her. She’d found it difficult to sleep since the funeral, because Joseph kept haunting her. Well, he could wander round the bedroom and stare at her all he liked. He couldn’t touch her, could he, not now?
She heard the door knocker and waited until Dot brought up the visitor, having already told the maid to deny entrance to everyone except the lawyer.
‘You always were a fool,’ she told Joseph when he came to stand in the corner of the room, arms folded. ‘Well, you’ve lost everything and it’s all mine, now. Mine!’
She swung round to see Dot and the Vicar standing in the doorway, both looking at her strangely.
She glared at the stupid girl then turned to the Vicar. ‘I’m afraid I’m not receiving visitors at the moment, Mr Saunders. I’m expecting my lawyer, who is to go through the will with me.’
‘Er, yes. Mr Featherworth asked me to join you, I’m not sure why. I do hope you don’t mind.’
She held back her anger. It wouldn’t be wise to make an enemy of the Vicar, but really, this was no business of his. ‘As long as you keep what he says today to yourself.’
‘I shall do whatever the lawyer advises, I promise you, my dear lady.’
She wasn’t quite satisfied with that response, but before she had time to ask exactly what he meant, the door knocker went again.
Mr Featherworth came in, looking distinctly nervous. He sighed with relief as he saw the Vicar.
Joseph had left something to those creatures! Isabel decided, looking across at the corner again. He was smiling smugly at her. With an effort she turned back to her two visitors. ‘Don’t waste time in civilities. Get on with the reading of the will.’
Mr Featherworth took out some papers, arranging them in two piles on the mahogany dining table. ‘This is the last will and testament of my client, Joseph Henry Blake,’ he said. ‘Shall I – um, read it to you or shall I summarise it first, then leave you to read your copy of the will at your leisure?’
‘Summarise it.’ Still he hesitated, so she added, ‘Well? Get on with it.’
‘I’m afraid that your husband has left everything he owned to his nieces, Cassandra, Xanthe, Maia and Pandora Blake. He stipulated that—’
Before he could speak again, Isabel let out a scream of pure rage. ‘No! Noooo! He can’t have done that!’
‘I’m afraid he could and did.’
‘But I’m his wife! And the shop belonged to my parents. He can’t leave it to anyone else but me.’
‘I’m sorry, but he has.’
She stared at him, bereft of words, feeling as if she was choking. ‘Do you mean I shall be thrown out of my own home, become a pauper?’
‘No, no, dear lady. If you’ll allow me to continue? Your husband included a provision for you to receive twenty per cent of the profits of the shop for as long as you shall live, on condition that you move away from Outham. In addition, he has set aside a sum of money to purchase a modest house for you – possibly in some seaside resort – the house to revert to his nieces upon your death and—’
Joseph was laughing. He was laughing at her! She jumped to her feet and rushed to the corner, trying to scratch his eyes out.
Mr Featherworth stopped reading to stare open mouthed as she began to scream. She went on and on, flailing abo
ut with her arms as if she thought someone was there, as if she was trying to hit someone.
‘No! No! You shan’t do it, Joseph Blake! The shop’s mine! Mine!’
Both gentlemen were on their feet now, looking at one another in shock, uncertain what to do about this.
The screams brought Dot running up the stairs.
The Vicar recovered first. ‘Fetch Dr Turner!’ he yelled to the maid. ‘And send for my wife.’
When Dot didn’t move, just stood staring at her mistress, he gave her a push. ‘Did you hear me?’
‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.’
Sobbing, Isabel began to tear at her hair, reeling across the room, bumping into furniture, still shrieking. ‘They shan’t have it!’ She sent a row of ornaments crashing off a shelf with one deliberate sweep of her hand, and then turned to do the same to the ornaments on the piano.
‘She’s gone mad,’ the lawyer whispered.
She spun round. ‘What are you two whispering about? Are you in league with him? Why are you all trying to cheat me?’
The Vicar moved forward. ‘My dear lady, you’re not yourself. Please calm down and—’
She picked up the poker and brandished it at him.
The lawyer darted forward. ‘We can’t let her do this, Saunders. Help me!’
As they attempted to restrain her, she fought back, scratching and biting, managing to leave a deep gouge mark down the Vicar’s plump cheek and the imprint of her teeth in the lawyer’s soft, well-manicured hand.
There was no reason in her eyes, just hatred and the wild light of madness. They both clung to her for grim life, panting and struggling to hold her down, certain she’d attack them if they let her go. She nearly shook them off a couple of times, for they were both plump and nearing sixty, but they caught her again and held her fast, face downwards.
When Dr Turner came running up the stairs, he paused for only a moment in the doorway to take in what was happening. Opening his bag, he took out a small blue-glass bottle. ‘Hold her down!’ he ordered. ‘I need to sedate her.’
But it wasn’t until Dot lent her aid that they were able to hold Isabel still for long enough to force her mouth open and pour some laudanum down her throat. Even then it took a full half-hour before she calmed down and they could carry her into her bedroom.
‘Has your mistress ever shown signs of madness before?’ Dr Turner asked the maid.
‘Yes, sir. She talks to herself all the time when she thinks no one can hear her.’ Dot hesitated and looked at them.
‘You must tell us anything you know.’
‘Well ... I’ve heard her telling Mr Blake he should have listened to her then she’d not have had to get rid of him. She acted as if he was still there.’ Dot shivered. ‘I kept to the kitchen when she was like that.’
All three men froze.
‘Are you sure she said that, girl?’ the Vicar asked.
‘Yes, sir.’ She put up her chin. ‘I am sure, sir. She said it more than once.’
‘Why did you not tell someone?’ Dr Turner asked.
‘Who’d have believed me? Mrs Blake was clever. Never did nothing when her friends were here. But I’m knocking about the house all the time and I couldn’t help overhearing things. Fair made me shiver, it did. I wasn’t eavesdropping, sir, honest I wasn’t.’ She began to cry.
There was silence, then the doctor said quietly, ‘Her husband was also worried about her sanity. He brought me round to see her once, but she was quite calm when I arrived.’ He nodded to the maid. ‘I do believe you, Dot.’
‘She has – a disordered mind?’ the Vicar faltered. ‘But she and my wife were friends. She visited our house regularly.’
The doctor looked down sadly at the woman. ‘She won’t be visiting anyone from now on. She’ll have to be locked away, I’m afraid. She’s dangerous as well as insane. Shall I – make the arrangements?’ He led the way out of the room.
‘Yes.’ Mr Featherworth hesitated then asked, ‘Do you think she’ll recover?’
‘I doubt it. They don’t usually, not when something has tipped them over the edge like this.’
‘There is some money for her. Can you find – somewhere decent? I don’t like to think of a lady being put into a common asylum.’
‘I know a place where they look after such people carefully as long as you can pay for the privilege.’
‘What am I going to do about the bequests?’ the lawyer wondered aloud.
‘What bequests?’
‘He left everything to his four nieces.’
Dot clapped one hand across her mouth to hide a smile. Serve the old hag right. Then she realised she’d be out of a job and her smile faded as she continued to listen to the men talking. They seemed to have forgotten that she was there.
‘I shall have to send a message to Australia,’ the lawyer said. ‘Though how long it’ll take for a letter to get there, I don’t know, or even if it’ll arrive safely.’
The doctor shook his head. ‘Letters can go astray. I have a cousin in Australia who writes to me regularly, but once or twice his letters haven’t arrived. You’d better find someone who’s going there – a man would be best – and pay him to deliver the message to the Blake sisters in person. And you’ll need to find someone to run the shop in the meantime.’
The doctor went back to check on Mrs Blake, but she was still asleep. ‘I know a married couple who’ll come and look after her here until we can make the necessary arrangements. He’s very strong. And careful. I can promise you they won’t ill-treat her, however strangely she behaves. I’ll warn them that she can seem quite rational at times.’
Mr Featherworth pulled himself together. ‘It’ll take time, but it’ll all be sorted out eventually, I suppose.’ He suddenly became aware of the maid, standing by the door, wide-eyed. ‘You, girl. Make sure you don’t talk about this to anyone.’
‘No, sir. And – please sir, what about my job?’
‘You’ll be needed till we’ve got her safely locked away, then I’ll pay you any wages owing and you can leave.’
She began to cry. ‘I’ll need references, sir. I can’t get another job without them.’
‘Is this a time to fuss about that?’ She continued to cry noisily, so he said impatiently, ‘I’ll get my wife to write them for you. Now carry on with your normal work. The Vicar and I will stay with your mistress until the doctor sends help.’
‘Shall I bring you up some tea and biscuits, sir?’
‘Good idea.’
When she’d gone the Vicar sighed. ‘This is most unfortunate. If it had only happened a few days sooner, we could have got the Blake sisters back. But their ship has already sailed for the Antipodes.’ Then he frowned. ‘Well, three of them went on the ship. I fear the oldest sister must be dead. There has been no word about her.’
A dreadful thought came into his mind and he dismissed it hastily. Surely Mrs Blake could not have been behind her niece’s death as well?
Well, whether she had been or not, it was too late to do anything about it, and it was no use prosecuting a madwoman.
15
After they’d finished cleaning out their quarters, something Matron insisted on them doing every morning, the single women went up the companionway, as they’d learned to call the steep wooden steps that led up to the deck. By that time, they were more than ready for a breath of fresh salty air. Some pushed to the front; others waited their turn patiently.
Even Maia was now well enough to enjoy the thought of a stroll and pulled a face when Matron asked the three of them to stay behind for a few moments.
‘I believe you have an older sister ...’ she began.
They looked at each other in surprise, then Pandora nodded.
‘You left her behind because she was married and—’
‘But—’ Xanthe began.
Pandora interrupted. ‘Let Matron finish telling us.’
‘Sadly, the very day after you left, your brother-in-law was killed in an accident. Wit
h the help of your Minister, Mr Rainey, your sister tried to join you on this ship as an emigrant, but there were no places left.’
Maia gasped. ‘Oh, no!’
‘Fortunately, Mrs Barrett’s maid had changed her mind at the last minute about coming to Australia with her, so that lady has kindly employed your sister instead and—’
‘You mean – Cassandra is on this ship,’ Xanthe exclaimed, unable to bear this slow telling a second longer.
‘Indeed she is.’ Matron gave them a look which was as close to a smile as she ever came. ‘If you’ll wait here, I’ll fetch her and you can have your reunion in private.’
Before she’d even left, Maia opened her mouth again and Pandora quickly put a hand across it, then put a finger to her lips and went to check that no one had lingered in any of the cabins.
They heard someone coming towards the companionway and then a woman’s skirts came into view, so they rushed to that end of the single women’s quarters. Weeping and laughing they flung themselves at Cassandra, hugging, kissing and hugging her again.
‘Let’s sit down and talk,’ she said at last, her arm still round Pandora’s waist.
When they were at the table, Xanthe asked in a low voice, ‘Why do they think you were married?’
Cassandra’s joy vanished abruptly and she bowed her head. ‘After those men captured me, they ... used me as they would a street woman ... on her orders.’ Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she daren’t allow herself to sob, as she ached to do, because someone might hear her.
There was dead silence, then Pandora put her arm round her sister’s shoulders. ‘I hope she rots in hell. Oh, Cassandra, was it – very bad?’
She could only nod. It was a few moments before she asked, ‘How did she force you to leave?’
‘She showed us your hair and told us she wouldn’t set you free until we’d left England. Did she change her mind? How were you able to join us?’
‘I escaped. I went to the Raineys and they helped me get to the ship in time.’