Authors: Irene Carr
‘
Oh, thank you,’ Bridget said. And later: ‘That was the best cup of tea I’ve ever had.’
Soon they were under tow again and remained so for the rest of the day. The two women cared for the baby between them, and Liza brought food from the galley. They slept when they could. Jock paid them several visits to see his son, but he also told them that the storm was blowing itself out. Late in the afternoon he came to say,
‘We’re off Sunderland and there’s a tug come to tow us to Newcastle.’ He looked at Liza. ‘Would you like to come on to Newcastle with us, or go back to the
Wear
Lass
?’
Liza did not hesitate. If she went into the Tyne there was a chance she would be recognised as an impostor: people there knew Liza Thornton.
‘I’d like to go back, please.’
‘
Come up when you’re ready. We’ll lower a boat for you.’ Then, as he left the cabin, he said, ‘And you can tell Billy Morgan he has a grand lass in you.’
‘
He’s not—’ Liza began to protest. But Jock had gone.
Bridget giggled.
‘That’s my Jock, always putting his foot in it. Anyway,’ she went on shyly, ‘are you sure there’s nothing between you and Billy?’
‘
No.’ Liza gave a flat denial. And knew she lied.
She could see through the porthole that the sea was now as flat as the lake in Mowbray Park. There seemed no need for the bulky oilskins, so she made a parcel of them. She kissed Bridget and the baby. The young mother clung to her, tearful.
‘You’ve been so good.’
‘
Cheer up and take care of that little lad,’ Liza urged. ‘You’ll soon have your mother to help you.’
Then, as she left the cabin, Bridget called,
‘I may be able to do the same for you one day.’
Liza went on her way, laughing and blushing. She was sorry to leave Bridget and the baby, who reminded her of her own child. She told herself that she and Susan would soon be together again.
The boat was waiting, hanging in the davits with two seamen in it and they helped her in. Like her, they had dispensed with oilskins. A winch clattered and the boat was lowered smoothly to the water. The two seamen cast off and pulled strongly for the
Wear
Lass
. ‘How are you getting on with Billy Morgan, Miss?’ one asked, with a broad Scots accent.
Liza, taken aback, answered politely,
‘Quite well. I take it you know him?’
‘
Oh, aye. Me and Mickey here, we’ve shipped wi’ Billy a few times. He’s a good man, and there’s a lot o’ the lassies fond o’ him.’ Liza knew she was blushing again.
Mickey saw this and broke in:
‘Give over, Angus, and leave the lass alone.’
Angus laughed.
‘From what I know already she’s well able to stick up for herself. But no harm intended, Miss.’
Liza smiled at him.
‘None taken.’
The gap between the two ships where they lay still was only a hundred yards or so and they had soon crossed it. Liza, sitting in the sternsheets, could see William standing on the bridge, watching her. She waved, and he responded. And there was the tug, a big paddle-wheeler, coming up fast to pass ahead of the
Wear
Lass
and station herself ahead of the
Frances
Hopkinson
, ready to take up the tow.
The seamen shipped their oars and the boat rubbed against the black-painted steel hull of the
Wear
Lass
. A Jacob’s ladder hung down, a line beside it and Mickey, nearest Liza, stood up and grabbed for them. But the tug’s speed had set up a big bow-wave, which swept into the narrow gap between the ships. As it passed under the boat first the bow and then the stern lifted, then dropped. Mickey was standing, had not gripped ladder or line. Caught unawares, he toppled backwards and over the side.
‘
Oh, Jesus!’ Angus cried. ‘Neither of us can swim.’
Then his friend surfaced a few yards away, spluttered, called,
‘Help!’ and sank again. Liza tore off her skirt and shoes and rolled over the side. Now she remembered how cold the North Sea was, and gasped. She struck out for where she had last seen Mickey — or where she thought she had seen him. By sheer luck she found him — and trouble. He burst up almost alongside her, coughing and crowing for breath, and threw an arm around her. They sank together.
Liza, eyes closed, felt him clinging to her with both arms, his legs churning, bumping into hers. They rose again, burst into the light and Liza took a breath, pushed feebly at his grip and pleaded,
‘Let go!’ That made no difference and they sank again. Now another hand appeared. It twisted Mickey’s fingers loose from her and held him out at arm’s length, his face above the water.
‘
Be still, Mickey!’ William barked. And, at the familiar voice, Mickey obeyed. Liza paddled on her own, gasping. ‘Just hold on,’ William said. ‘The boat’s here.’ And so it was, with Angus at the oars. It swung alongside them and Angus leaned over the stern and grabbed Mickey. He tried to lift the semi-conscious man but William ordered, ‘Just hold him. You’ll never lift him in on your own.’ Instead he pulled Liza to the stern. ‘In you go.’ She climbed in but not without a shove from him, his hand on her seat, the water dragging at her. William boosted Mickey in the same way, and Angus hauled from above, until the man lay in the sternsheets, breathing stertorously. Then William pulled himself inboard.
Angus paddled the boat back to the ship, and Liza undid her parcel, only too aware that below the waist she wore only stockings and drawers. William crouched above Mickey.
‘How are you now, lad?’ He wore only cotton drawers, had thrown off his clothes as he ran down from the bridge. They were plastered to his skin. Liza looked away and busied herself with her own problem.
‘
Awful bad, skipper,’ Mickey said dolefully.
‘
Not surprising,’ William said drily. ‘You’ve most of the North Sea inside you, but you’ll do.’ He sat back on his haunches.
Mickey sat up.
‘I’m sorry, though, getting caught like that.’
‘
It can happen to anybody.’
Liza shivered. But why me? she thought.
She had found the oilskin trousers and wriggled into their stiff folds. The
Wear
Lass
loomed alongside and this time Angus seized ladder and line. Liza climbed up, the line pulling her, and gained the deck. William followed, and she saw Angus rowing back to the
Frances
Hopkinson
. She and William hurried to their cabins. Liza undressed, dried herself and put on dry clothes. Then she towelled her hair and brushed it vigorously. When she heard William moving outside in the passage she snatched her thick coat and went out to join him on the bridge.
Both ships were getting under way, the
Frances
Hopkinson
towed by the paddlewheel tug. Jock McAvoy bellowed through his tin megaphone: ‘Is Miss Spencer there?’
‘
She is,’ William replied.
‘
My lads tell me we’re in your debt again, Miss,’ Jock bawled. ‘I didn’t see what happened because I was aft, seeing to the tow, but thank you. We’re hoping we’ll see more of you in the future.’
Liza waved in acknowledgement. William coughed and she knew why. They wanted to see more of her? They had already seen far more than she had intended. She avoided his gaze all the way into the Wear in the last of the light. The gas-lights were flaring on the quay as they berthed and she saw Gibson waiting with the Vauxhall. She suddenly felt very tired, and as she looked back over the past two days, she decided that that was not surprising.
William took her arm and led her down the gangway. ‘You look dead beat,’ he said. She did not argue, was grateful for the attention. He helped her into the front passenger seat, and drove them to the house, with Gibson in the back. ‘It’s a good job you had that time in London. You got a bit of a rest,’ he remarked. Liza almost laughed, remembering how hard and long she had worked to secure Cecily’s release.
They stopped in front of the house and the housekeeper opened the front door at once, with Martha behind her. William took Liza
’s arm and they climbed the steps together while Gibson drove the car to the garage.
Mrs Taggart peered at them as they came into the light.
‘My God, lassie! You look worn out.’ She glowered accusingly at William. ‘What have you done to the puir wee lamb?’
‘
Not him,’ Liza defended him. ‘Just life, Mrs Taggart. He’ll tell you all about it.’
‘
Aye, he will, but your bed is waiting for you and Martha will put you in it.’
Liza went with the girl, but paused on the stairs to say,
‘Goodnight, William. I really had a lovely time.’ Then she went on up, fell into bed and instant sleep.
*
* *
Flora Gibb woke from a doze. She had a corner seat in the carriage of the train from Newcastle, which was due to arrive in London in another hour. She had with her yesterday
’s newspaper, which had told her that the earlier report of Jasper’s capture had been incorrect. She had known that already, had laughed with Jasper as they read it. The latest report said the man arrested had been a burglar, who would be charged with breaking and entering.
Now she reflected that she was content with her efforts during her short visit to Sunderland. In those two days she had found Spencer Hall and a furnished, semi-detached villa to let in a street down by the river in Monkwearmouth. She had taken it, paying a month
’s rent in advance. She had also found a livery stable, where a pony and trap could be hired. Jasper would be pleased.
Flora was uneasy because she did not know what he
proposed to do. She loved him, but feared him too. She had come to enjoy her comfortable life while he was in prison. All she wanted now was for the pair of them to go on quietly, earning an honest living so that they would not be in fear of the law. Suppose they went abroad? She sighed wistfully and tried not to wonder about the awful fate she suspected he intended for the girl in Spencer Hall.
*
* *
William and Liza had not seen the report that Jasper was still at large. It had been published while they were at sea and the
Wear
Lass
was towing the
Frances
Hopkinson
northward.
SUNDAY, 10 FEBRUARY 1907, SUNDERLAND
Liza woke to the sound of distant church bells. Then she saw from the clock on the mantelpiece that it was past nine. She squeaked, rolled out of bed and ran to the bathroom. A knock on the door heralded the arrival of Martha: ‘I let you lie, Miss, because you were so tired last night and the captain said so.’
‘
That’s all right, Martha, but I must show my face now.’ She bathed hurriedly, dressed, then ran down the stairs.
In the dining room William looked over his newspaper.
‘Good morning.’
‘
I’m sorry I’m late, but Martha said she let me sleep on your instructions. Thank you.’
He put aside the paper.
‘You were very tired last night, after a rough passage.’
‘
Don’t stop reading on my account,’ Liza said quickly. Mrs Taggart entered then, catching the last remark.
‘
Not at all,’ William said. ‘I haven’t had breakfast yet —thought I’d wait for you.’
‘
He shouldn’t have his nose stuck in a paper anyway when there’s company at the table,’ Mrs Taggart said tartly. ‘Good morning, Miss Spencer.’
‘
Good morning, Mrs Taggart.’
‘
My name is Elspeth, Miss Spencer.’
‘
Oh. Thank you.’ Liza had wanted a friend and now she had one. She wondered what had brought it about, then saw William wink.
‘
I told Elspeth all your adventures,’ he said. ‘She was amazed and impressed.’
Elspeth agreed.
‘Aye, and so I am, and you such a little lass.’
Liza tried to sit taller.
‘Have we any duties today, Mrs’ —she corrected herself ‘— Elspeth?’
‘
No, but tomorrow we start on preparations for the party next Saturday, and there’ll be plenty of them and the house turned upside-down. You’ll find there are people who are dab hands at having these grand ideas but it’s left to the likes of you and me to carry them out.’
William helped himself to coffee from the sideboard.
‘Not this time. The party will be at the Palace Hotel. There will be preparations, but no clearing up afterwards, and this house will remain intact.’ He cocked an eye at Elspeth. ‘Or do you want me to call it off ?’
‘
Certainly not!’ She bristled. ‘The lassie deserves her party. She’s earned it.’ She marched out.
He grinned at Liza.
‘What are your plans for today?’