by Anna Jacobs
Maia still looked puzzled. ‘But that doesn’t explain why you’re pretending you were married.’
Cassandra saw Pandora and Xanthe roll their eyes at their sister’s naiveté. She had to force the words out. ‘Because there may be ... results of those days. I may be – expecting a child.’ She couldn’t stop more tears rolling down her cheeks and shame sat leaden in her belly, though she couldn’t have prevented what happened.
‘When shall we know?’ Pandora asked gently.
She’d said ‘we’ not ‘you’, Cassandra thought wonderingly. Then she truly knew she was back with her family again, not struggling alone in a hostile world. It seemed as if the weight on her shoulders shifted slightly and grew a little lighter. ‘We’ll find out quite soon. I should be starting my monthly any day now or ... not.’
They sat in silence, but Pandora kept hold of her hand and Cassandra clung to it, feeling she could cope with anything if only she wasn’t alone. ‘I’d better tell you about my imaginary husband. We named him John Lawson and said he was killed in an accident, a runaway horse and cart. We may as well make him a drayman.’
‘Why didn’t you come to see us before now? We’ve been under way for days.’
‘I only got passage on the ship because Mrs Barrett needed a maid. Her husband insisted I pretend to be their former maid Hilda until after the ship had got well away from England, so that there would be no possibility of me being sent back. Mrs Barrett is pleasant enough but she never lifts a finger to help herself. And then with the rough weather, they were both ill, so I had to look after them. He wanted me to keep pretending I was Hilda. But I refused.’
‘That was cruel. He must have known you wanted to see us.’
‘He doesn’t think about me, just how well his wife is served. Neither of them has even asked whether my quarters are comfortable or how I’m feeling, though they think I’ve recently been widowed.’ She sighed. ‘So only you three and the Raineys know what really happened to me.’
‘And I suppose those involved know too,’ Xanthe said. ‘If I ever meet our aunt again ...’
‘That’s not likely.’
‘If you are – you know, expecting a child, we’ll look after you,’ Pandora added.
‘I pray I’m not.’ She couldn’t hold back a shudder.
They heard footsteps on the companionway and one of the younger girls came down, stopping near the bottom to call, ‘Matron says you’re to come up and get some fresh air now.’ She went back up on deck without waiting for an answer.
‘We’d better do it,’ Xanthe said. ‘Matron’s word is law down here. On this ship, she, the doctor and the Captain are like a trio of those Greek gods Dad loved so much.’
They went up and gradually edged into a place by the rail, staring out across the sunlit water.
‘To think we’d never seen the sea before,’ Xanthe said. ‘Isn’t it beautiful? We were always promising ourselves to go on an excursion to Blackpool, but we never did.’
‘We spent too much time with our heads in books,’ Cassandra said grimly. ‘And Father was so generous to those in need, we never had much money to spare. I’ll never make that mistake. I’ll always make sure I have some money saved from now on.’
They couldn’t speak too frankly because the decks were crowded, single women and families in one area, single men in another, with Matron sitting between the two groups. This didn’t stop the younger men looking, and as usual, they kept staring at Pandora, who always seemed unaware of her startling good looks.
But with her new-found knowledge of what men really wanted, how little some men respected women, Cassandra wondered if she would ever be able to trust a man again, even Reece. She banished that thought, angry at herself. Hadn’t she promised herself not to dwell on things that couldn’t be changed? She wouldn’t let that woman ruin the rest of her life.
‘How do you pass the time?’ she asked. ‘Mrs Barrett is so fussy, she keeps me quite busy. I’m always having to fetch her something or mend things she’s torn, or read to her. She’s like a spoiled child, kind if she gets what she wants from her husband, but irritable towards me if he crosses her. But though I’ve got work to do for her, there are still hours to fill.’
Xanthe grimaced. ‘It’s been very boring until now. Because of the bad weather they’re only just starting to organise group activities. But we can read already, so why should we join a reading class?’
‘I heard there was going to be a singing group,’ Pandora said. ‘You three would enjoy that, I’m sure. Would your mistress let you join it as well, Cassandra?’
‘I don’t know. She’s in a delicate condition and is friendly one minute, then snaps at me the next. I can ask her, though.’ She looked up and saw her mistress staring in her direction from the area set aside for cabin passengers. Mrs Barrett beckoned and Cassandra sighed. ‘I’ll have to go back to her now.’
‘She didn’t let us spend much time together, did she?’ Xanthe grumbled.
‘Never mind. Once we reach Australia, we’ll stay together.’
‘Not if they send us to different places,’ Pandora said. ‘I overheard Matron talking to the doctor last night, telling him about the last group she brought out here, how some maids were sent to country homesteads a long way from Perth. And there are no railways in Western Australia – can you imagine that? – so travel isn’t easy. From the way she talks, it sounds like the Dark Ages there. I wish we hadn’t come.’
They looked at one another in dismay.
‘Surely they wouldn’t separate us?’ Maia said.
Xanthe moved closer to her twin. ‘They might try. Will we even have a choice of what jobs we take?’
‘Of course we will,’ Pandora said. ‘We don’t have to accept a job if we don’t want it. We’re not slaves.’
‘But there are four of us. No one will be looking for four maids. And how will we live if we’ve no work?’ Xanthe asked. ‘We’ve only a few coins between us.’
‘I’ve got some money,’ Cassandra said. ‘Mrs Southerham gave it to me. And she’ll be in Western Australia. Surely she’ll be able to help us?’
‘Reece is there, too,’ Pandora said slyly. ‘I doubt you’ll have to find a job at all once he knows you’re there.’
Cassandra flushed. That was her dream, but she couldn’t marry him without telling him what had happened to her. It wouldn’t be fair. And anyway, she still had nightmares, so she wouldn’t be able to hide it.
Mrs Barrett beckoned again, so she gave each of her sisters a hug, then hurried across to her mistress, who didn’t really need her but was bored and wanted fussing over.
Mr Rainey was shown into the Vicar’s study. After exchanging greetings, he came straight to the point. ‘I’ve been hearing rumours about Mrs Blake.’
‘Ah. Yes.’
‘Is it true she’s gone mad?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘What about the shop? There’s also a rumour that it wasn’t left to her.’
Mr Saunders stiffened. ‘How did that news get out?’
‘So it is true!’
‘I really can’t discuss the poor lady’s affairs.’
‘I’m not interested in her. It’s her four nieces who are my concern. They were my parishioners, after all.’
‘We fear the oldest one has been killed.’
‘No. She escaped from her captors and came to us. But we felt it better for her to get away from her aunt, so we hid her.’ He hesitated, then decided it was time for the truth to be told. ‘It was Mrs Blake who arranged for her to be kidnapped, you see.’
The Vicar goggled at him, opening and shutting his mouth, and it was a few moments before he could string a few words together. ‘You’re sure Cassandra Blake is alive?’
‘Didn’t I just say so?’
‘What a relief! That’ll solve the problem of what to do with the shop.’
‘Not quite.’
‘What do you mean? Surely she can come and take charge of it on behalf of
her sisters till they return from Australia?’
‘She’s on her way there with them.’
Silence, then the Vicar stood up. ‘We’d better go and tell the lawyer about this. Featherworth is the one who’ll have to send word to Australia. I just pray we’ll find all four young women safe and sound. You never know what’ll happen on such a long and perilous journey.’
Mr Featherworth listened to what Mr Rainey had to tell him, asking a few questions, then shaking his head. ‘It’s a terrible business. The doctor tells me Mrs Blake is still out of her mind and very violent, has to be restrained for her own safety. Tomorrow we’re taking her to a place in the country near Halifax. It’s been strongly recommended by the doctor and is run by people who will care for her properly. I’m going with them to make sure everything is all right. I’ve got an order from the magistrate to take charge of everything until the heirs can be found.’
‘What are you going to do with the shop until then?’ Mr Rainey asked.
The lawyer sat tapping his fingers on the desk for a moment or two. ‘I shall have to employ someone to manage it, I suppose. I know nothing about shopkeeping.’
‘What about the senior man there?’ the Vicar asked. ‘Won’t he do?’
‘Well, he’s been very helpful and is keeping things going, but I’m not sure. He’s very young for such responsibility. I’d prefer an older man.’ And there was something about Prebble that Mr Featherworth didn’t quite trust. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but you got that feeling sometimes about people – and his judgement had never let him down before.
‘Why not give the young man a chance?’ the Vicar said. ‘I’ve known the Prebbles for years. They’re members of my congregation, regular attenders. I married the parents and christened young Harry. Decent folk, they are, from humble beginnings, but making something of themselves. You’d have to pay him more than he’s getting now, of course.’
‘I’ll talk to him before I make my mind up. Then there’s the maidservant, Dot. I’d thought to dismiss her but now I’m not sure.’
The Vicar pursed his lips, then passed judgement. ‘I don’t like to think of a housemaid having that place to herself. Who knows what she’ll get up to without proper supervision?’
Mr Rainey cleared his throat. ‘My wife has a cousin who works as a governess, but is between jobs at the moment and is coming to us next week for a rest before she seeks a new post, because she’s had the influenza and is run down. We could ask Alice – Miss Blair – to live there and keep an eye on things, if you like. You could trust her absolutely. She’d only ask for food and board, and perhaps a small honorarium.’
‘I was going to suggest a parishioner of my own, a widow,’ the Vicar said in an aggrieved tone.
Mr Featherworth stepped in hastily. He wasn’t fond of the Vicar and didn’t want him poking his nose into the Blakes’ affairs, which he would be able to do if one of his parishioners was installed above the shop. On the other hand, he did respect and like the Methodist Minister and his wife, who were both well thought of in town. ‘Perhaps you could introduce me to your wife’s cousin when she arrives, Mr Rainey? If she’s free, it may be just the thing. In the meantime I’ll have to consider how to contact the Blake sisters in Australia.’
The Vicar frowned. ‘You’re definitely sending someone to find them, then? Won’t that be rather expensive?’
‘It’ll be more expensive, yes, but I believe it’s essential. I’ve been considering asking the young man who works in the shop to go, not Prebble, but Zachary Carr. He knows the sisters by sight and he’s always been very helpful when I’ve dealt with him.’
‘That’s an excellent idea,’ Mr Rainey said warmly. ‘They’ll need more help in the shop, though.’
‘Prebble’s already asked about appointing someone. He tells me he knows a suitable young man. He’ll have no trouble finding more help in these troubled times.’
‘Have you asked the young fellow if he’s prepared to go?’
‘Not yet. I wanted to make enquiries about him first, to make absolutely sure that he’s reliable.’
Pandora hated sewing, so let the twins join that particular shipboard class without her. But she did join a group to whom one of the ladies was reading a book aloud. She’d rather have read the book for herself, but didn’t say that. At least it passed the time. And some of the other young women from Lancashire who hadn’t joined groups were misbehaving, so she didn’t want to be thought like them. Safer to participate in some quiet activity and keep out of the others’ way.
When the lady reader was unwell one day, Pandora volunteered to take her place, wanting to know what happened next in the story, as well as to fill in another hour or so.
Matron looked at her in surprise. ‘Can you read well enough?’
She bit back a hasty answer. ‘I think so. Let me show you.’ Finding the place they’d reached in the book, she started reading.
Matron stopped her after a couple of paragraphs. ‘Excellent. I’ll let you take charge today, then.’
‘Thank you. And Matron?’
‘Yes?’
‘Someone said there was a library on board. Could I borrow books from it, do you think? I’ll be very careful with them.’
Matron gave one of her rare smiles. ‘Not just a library. A benefactor has donated a box of writing materials and diaries, and those who know how to write can apply for a diary and keep a record of the voyage. Some people make two copies and send one back to their families. I’ve been waiting till the weather calmed down to distribute them.’ Her frown returned. ‘Unfortunately, the single women on this ship have been more difficult to settle than usual.’
Pandora beamed at her. ‘Oh, I’d love to keep a diary.’
‘You didn’t join the sewing class, though.’
She grimaced. ‘I don’t like sewing.’
‘Nonetheless, it’ll be helpful for you in your new life. There are no cotton mills in Western Australia and you young women were brought out as maids. Employers will think more of you if you can at least do the mending. Perhaps you could reconsider the sewing class?’
‘I’m not good at it and I doubt I ever shall be.’ And she hated sewing, would far rather use her brain.
‘There’s nothing like perseverance for improving a skill. Mrs Barrett says your eldest sister is quite a good needlewoman. I must say it’s very kind of her to instruct her maid as she is doing.’ She cocked her head, waiting for an answer, and when it didn’t come, she added, ‘Besides, the busier you are, the more pleasantly the voyage will pass.’
Pandora looked at her pleadingly, because this sounded like an ultimatum.
‘Didn’t you hear what I said? Sewing is a valued skill in a maid. You need to be able to do it. Besides, by joining the class, you’ll gain an item of underwear. There’s a box of underwear cut out and ready to sew, donated by a group of ladies who care about the welfare of young women sent out into the world on their own.’
Knowing it wouldn’t be wise to defy Matron, and bearing in mind the fact that she wasn’t so well supplied with clothing that she could ignore a free gift, Pandora gave in. ‘Oh, very well, I’ll join the sewing class, then. But I’ll ruin anything I touch. I just don’t seem able to sew a straight seam, however hard I try.’
‘I’ll teach you.’ This was said very confidently.
She hid her doubts and was given a diary and writing implements that very afternoon, something which thrilled her. She stroked the crisp, clean paper of the first page and considered how best to begin.
One thing Pandora did enjoy was organising their mess’s meals, but she was thankful they hadn’t got any of the more unruly single women in their group to disrupt things.
Food was plentiful and many of the young women from Lancashire put on weight quickly, acquiring rosy cheeks again. There were some startling transformations. One woman, who’d seemed middle-aged, grew young again before their eyes.
Well, it was no wonder. For breakfast they had te
a or coffee with bread and butter, and there was as much as anyone could want. Occasionally they had molasses or jam to spread on the bread, or ship’s biscuits instead of bread. Pandora didn’t care what they were given. She’d been hungry for so long, she enjoyed every mouthful now.
Dinner was usually meat and potatoes, with preserved pork or beef being the most common meats, though occasionally there was fresh meat when one of the ship’s animals was slaughtered. None of the Lancashire contingent complained if the preserved meat was a little salty. They’d all known hunger.
With the food they were sometimes given preserved cabbage or pease pudding made from dried peas. The preserved cabbage wasn’t to some people’s taste, but Matron urged them to eat it to ward off scurvy.
A few girls hid the cabbage in their handkerchiefs and tossed it into the sea, others refused point-blank even to touch it. They were stupid, Pandora thought. It stood to reason Matron knew what she was talking about, as she’d done the voyage several times now. It seemed a strange way to earn a living, but the older woman obviously enjoyed ship life and was often to be seen gazing out at the ocean, her expression content.
The women were given flour, suet and sugar for each mess every alternate day, and were allowed to make cakes of any sort from it, which the cook would bake for them.
Pandora asked his advice and learned a lot about cooking in difficult conditions. Xanthe took an interest in this, too, but some of the mess leaders only made simple things to which they were used, not showing any interest in extending their skills.
Others were too busy stealing things from one another to care what they ate, as long as there was food. The more they recovered from the famine days, the worse some of the girls’ behaviour grew. The objects they liked most to steal were photographs of the others’ sweethearts or brothers. Then they’d pretend that these were their sweethearts. This caused a lot of distress among the victims.
When she found her father’s book gone from under her pillow, Pandora reported it to Matron, who searched all the single women’s cabins, with the Purser standing by. The book was found and many other small articles too that people had missed.