A Fatal Freedom (32 page)

‘And after Mr Peters died,’ Thomas said. ‘His friend Sir Hector Rutland suggested he would supply you with somewhere to live so you could make him feel good whenever he wanted, did he?’

‘Don’t you come the high and mighty with me, Joe Banks, Thomas Jackman, or whatever you call yourself.’ Millie sounded aggrieved. ‘A girl has to look out for herself. Mr Rutland said it was a crime beauty such as mine shouldn’t have the proper setting and that he’d provide me with every luxury.’

‘And you understood that that meant becoming his mistress?’ asked Ursula.

‘I suppose you’ve never done anything like that! That’s because you haven’t got the looks for it.’

Ursula couldn’t help being amused at this. ‘When did it all go wrong?’

‘Two days after I arrived,’ Millie wailed.

‘Up until then it had been all sweetness and light, had it?’ asked Thomas.

‘He treated me as though I was special. Said I made him happier than any woman ever had!’

A cart cut across their path, the cabbie hauled on the reins, the horse neighed loudly and almost reared. Ursula grabbed at the side of the cab to avoid ending on the floor. The cabbie swore at the cart’s driver, who returned some equally salty words. The incident slowly sorted itself out. ‘Sorry folks,’ said the cabbie. ‘Weren’t my fault.’

As they resumed the journey, Thomas said resignedly, ‘You better tell us what happened.’

‘He only brought in Guy, what he said I had to make as happy as I’d made him. Well,’ Millie drew herself up with a quaint dignity. ‘I said if he thought I was that sort of girl, he could think again.’ Suddenly she lost her poise once more. ‘So then he hit me on my arm … and my ribs and … and said he knew exactly what sort of girl I was and if I knew what was good for me, I’d do as I was told.’ Tears poured down her cheeks. ‘And … and after that it was awful. I was locked in and they came and demanded what they said was their right. And that Bee girl told me I had no choice and she’d learned to make the most of it. Do what they wanted, she said, and I’d get what I wanted. What I wanted was to get away from there!’ she ended on a long wail.

Ursula was thankful that the noise from the road made it unlikely their cabbie could hear anything.

‘So that’s when you wrote to me?’ said Thomas.

Millie nodded. ‘Well, you’d given me that card and said you was an investigator and that if I needed help at any time to let you know. Only you didn’t come!’ Another wail. ‘And I hated what I was asked to do. Bee didn’t seem to mind what went on. Only I did.’ She slumped back, seemingly exhausted.

Ursula had to feel sorry for the girl. She’d been incredibly foolish and had received bitter coin.

‘What’s to become of me?’ Millie whispered despairingly.

At that moment the cab came to a halt and Thomas climbed down. ‘We’re here,’ he said and held out his hand first to Millie and then to Ursula. She shook out her skirts, looked around and realised that the scene confronting her was familiar. She had seen that carved screen with its amazing animals before, had heard that lazy leonine roar and the bright monkey chatter, and had smelled the earthy animal odours. Then from somewhere she heard the roll of a drum and a crowd gasping in excitement. To the left of the menagerie was a large tent.

‘It’s a circus!’ breathed Millie.

Thomas paid off the cabbie and took Millie’s arm. ‘Come with me, ladies.’

The ground was rough; Millie cried out several times as she stumbled in her slippers and even Ursula, wearing sensible shoes, had difficulty keeping her balance. Another roar came from inside the tent.

Once round the back of the circus, Ursula saw a collection of caravans arranged in a circle around a large fire. It made her think of wagon trains drawn up for the night. Were they ready to repel Indians?

Dusk was drawing in; the soft light blurred the outlines of the buildings beyond the fire, they could be anywhere but in the middle of a bustling city.

Thomas approached the largest of the caravans, climbed the little flight of steps and knocked on the door. ‘Jackman, Ma,’ he called.

An oil lamp hung by the door illuminated the scene as a huge woman dressed in a flowing crimson dress patterned with paisley, a turban round her head, emerged from the caravan. ‘Ah, Thomas, Thomas,’ she cried and drew him into a warm embrace. Almost he vanished from sight. ‘Thank you, Ma,’ he said, emerging again.

Ma gave him an indulgent look, then surveyed the two women. ‘And you bring me someone in need, yes?’

Thomas leaped down the steps and brought the girl forward. ‘This is Millie, Ma.’

The woman came down and took hold of her hands. Millie stood nervously as though she feared also being drawn into that vast bosom. From the menagerie came the muffled roar of a lion and she started to tremble, shrinking into the warmth of Ursula’s coat.

Ma cupped her hand round Millie’s chin and nodded approvingly. ‘Ah, sweet girl. And another one you bring, yes?’ she added, looking at Ursula, her dark eyes bright with curiosity.

‘I’m happy to meet you but I’m not in trouble,’ said Ursula.

Ma climbed back up the steps into the caravan. ‘Come in, my dears. Hungry, are you?’

Ursula realised that she had had nothing to eat since a roll at lunchtime and that she was indeed in need of food. For the first time she noticed that a slim tin chimney came through the caravan’s roof; smoke emerged from it and the smell of some sort of stew made her mouth water.

Millie seemed reluctant to enter. She looked at Thomas and reached for his hand. ‘What will happen?’

‘We shall eat. And you will be safe.’

She gave him a wobbly smile then allowed him to lead her up the steps.

Inside the caravan was all the splendour of the East, with spangled cushions, Turkish carpets and hangings, and beautifully polished brass ornaments arranged with style on a series of shelves. In one corner a gently glowing stove bore a steaming pot. Ma moved over to it and started spooning deliciously smelling meat and vegetables into individual pottery bowls decorated with gaily painted motifs.

‘Ma, you’re magic,’ said Thomas.

‘Sit, sit,’ ordered Ma, indicating benches lining the caravan, all furnished with soft cushions. A long table ran in front of one of the benches. Ma placed three well-filled bowls on this and provided three spoons. A dark loaf of bread was cut and heavy-looking slices placed beside the bowls. Then she extracted a firkin from beneath one of the benches and poured ale into three tankards. ‘You must enjoy,’ she said and Ursula tried to place her slight accent; probably Eastern European, she decided.

The stew was subtly spiced and the bread tasted of rye. ‘This is delicious,’ said Ursula gratefully. ‘You are a wonderful cook.’

‘I like food,’ said Ma. ‘Food is elixir of life, no?’ She settled herself beside the stove, opposite her guests, and regarded with approval the speed with which the bowls were emptied.

From outside came the sound of loud applause. ‘Ah,’ said Ma. ‘Circus, it is over. Soon comes Pa.’

More applause.

‘Show must have gone well this evening,’ said Thomas.

‘Pa has ideas for new show. When we go to winter grounds, we work on them. You must come, see.’

‘You can be sure of that, Ma.’

‘Hey, hey!’ came a booming voice and the caravan door opened. In came a moustachioed man that Ursula recognised as the lion-tamer from her first visit to the menagerie. But this time he was dressed in a tail coat over an elaborately embroidered waistcoat and bright red cummerbund. He took off his top hat and threw it on to a bench. ‘Thomas, my Thomas! You came!’

Thomas rose. ‘We are very grateful, Pa, for your and Ma’s hospitality.’

‘My boy, you are welcome. And this,’ he turned to Millie. ‘This is the pretty lady who will stay with us.’

Millie shot an alarmed glance at the investigator. Ursula could see her thinking that a cooking pan had given way to fire.

Pa gave a deep, rumbling laugh. ‘No need to look like that, my dear. Thomas tells us you are in deep water and need a safe docking. We offer you one here.’ He patted her cheek. ‘You will be very safe with us.’

Millie gave a panic-stricken look around the caravan.

Ma gave her a warm smile. ‘Pa and I, we sleep in back,’ she indicated a door at the rear and Ursula realised that this travelling home had another room. ‘You are happy to sleep here?’ She indicated the bench. ‘We have feather bed for you; very comfortable.’

Millie looked doubtful.

Thomas placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘You have my word that you will be completely safe. No one will abuse you or treat you with anything but courtesy.’

Millie’s gaze switched between Ma and her ringmaster husband. ‘I have no money,’ she stammered.

Pa drew himself up till his head almost touched the roof of the caravan. ‘You insult us!’ he boomed out.

Millie shrank back and suddenly looked exhausted. ‘I … I’m sorry, sir. I … I’m not used to being treated so well. Please, I’m very happy to be here.’ Then she straightened her shoulders. ‘I do not like to be beholden, you see.’ She looked at Ma. ‘Perhaps I can help you in some way?’ She picked up one of the cushions and gently stroked its embroidery. ‘These are so lovely. I cannot do such elaborate work but I am good with the needle otherwise.’

Ma threw out her hands in a gesture of delight. ‘You can sew? That is wonderful, is it not, Pa?’

‘It is indeed. You see,’ he turned back to Millie. ‘With the circus there are always costumes that need repair. It is hard work for Ma to keep up.’

‘I can help,’ Millie said eagerly.

‘Now you are tired. We are all tired,’ Ma said. ‘We arrange for night-time, yes? And Thomas and the so nice other lady will go home. And perhaps come again tomorrow to see friend safe and well?’

‘An excellent idea,’ said Thomas. He took hold of one of Millie’s hands and held it in his. ‘You must sleep well and not worry about Hector Rutland. You are safe here and I will be back tomorrow. I will collect your clothes from the Peters’ house. Don’t worry, I won’t tell them where you are.’

Ursula looked longingly at her precious coat. Millie had wrapped her arms around herself, hugging the coat, as though it was part of the safety that had so suddenly been given to her. It was impossible to ask for it back tonight. Perhaps Thomas could do that tomorrow. She stifled a yawn and wondered how long it would take to walk back to her lodgings.

* * *

Thomas guided Ursula away from the circle of caravans. People were flooding out of the circus, happy, chatting, calling out to others. In the background the monkeys were chattering.

Soon they were once more in the heart of London, traffic all around them. Further down the street was a stand for hansom cabs. Horses stood, one leg bent, heads hanging low, half asleep.

‘Are you tired?’ Thomas asked Ursula.

‘Not at all,’ she said brightly. ‘Though I might take an omnibus from here. If there is one that goes towards Victoria.’

‘We should talk about the meeting with Miss Fentiman that you mentioned in your letter.’

‘We should.’ Ursula yawned. She really was very tired.

‘Hey – Jackman, isn’t it?’ yelled a voice.

A cabbie was fitting a nosebag on his horse. ‘Where you bin, mate?’

‘Alf, my friend!’ Thomas went over to him. ‘I should ask where’ve you been? Or perhaps I shouldn’t.’

‘Around, mate, around. And in and out, don’t yer know?’

‘Petty larceny, was it? Yet again?’

‘Ah, yer know ’ow it is, mate.’ The cabbie was a big chap in a flowing caped coat. ‘Come in and chew the cud for a while.’ He indicated a rectangular wooden shelter, light spilling out of an open door. ‘Bring yer lady friend.’

‘Do you mind?’ Thomas asked Ursula. She shook her head. Cabbie Alf looked interesting, his face a mass of wrinkles as though he was continually smiling, his nose a smashed cauliflower.

They entered the little shelter; there was a fire burning in an enclosed stove with a coffee pot sitting on top. A plain wooden table was surrounded with half a dozen mismatched chairs. A collection of mugs sat huddled on a small shelf.

Two cabbies already sitting at the table looked up as they entered. ‘Me old policeman mate, Tom Jackman,’ said Alf with a broad grin. ‘Ain’t seen ’im in an age.’

‘Hey, cabbie!’ A loud cry from outside. A well-dressed gent pushed his face round the door. ‘Need transport, don’t yer know.’

One of the cabbies rose hastily. ‘My turn.’

‘Need two, we do.’

Both cabbies vanished outside.

Alf picked up the coffee pot and waved it at Thomas and Ursula.

‘Won’t say no,’ said Thomas but Ursula shook her head. If the coffee was anything like that continually available in California, it would be over-brewed and disgustingly strong.

In a couple of minutes they were seated at the table, Thomas and Alf supplied with mugs.

‘So, tell us how you got banged up,’ said Thomas.

It was a cheery tale of golden opportunities that turned out to be lead-bottomed. ‘So here I am, back on the cabbie run, thanks to me old dad, who never gives up on me.’

Thomas seemed about to say something but another customer yelled for a cab and Alf disappeared. ‘Make yourselves at ’ome, I’ll be back shortly, and it’s starting to rain,’ he called as he left.

Thomas leaned back in his chair. ‘Might as well accept his invitation, where better to have that conversation on Miss Fentiman?’

Ursula had no desire to get wet. So she told Thomas all about Rachel Fentiman’s job with her brother-in-law.

‘He sounds as though he was an out-and-out bastard,’ she finished.

He tutted. ‘Never be taken for a lady with that sort of language.’

For a moment Ursula was taken aback, then she saw his eyes twinkling and laughed. ‘I’ll never get over living in a mining camp. But,’ she said, hastening on. ‘As I told Rachel, if Joshua Peters was giving his customers such a raw deal, wouldn’t it be possible one of them decided to take his revenge?’

Jackman looked thoughtful. ‘That all fits in with what I’ve heard in the docks. It seems as though Peters’ cheating ways have been catching up with him; the firm appears to be on the verge of going bust.

‘So there could be more than one angry client who suffered a raw enough deal to make him take his revenge on Joshua Peters.’