The Constant Heart (47 page)

The little boy stopped, staring at her with his thumb plugged into his mouth. Now she was absolutely certain that she had found them, and she broke into a run. Ronnie scuttled away from her like a frightened animal, but she had seen where he went and she followed him. Caddie was sitting on the ground with her back to the damp wall. In her arms she cradled baby Arthur, and Alfie lay sleeping with his head resting on her lap.

'Caddie. Thank God I've found you.' Rosina threw herself down on her knees beside her. Ronnie hurled himself at Caddie, wrapping his arms around her neck.

'Rosie? Is that really you? It's so dark that I can hardly see.'

'Yes, it's me. Don't be scared.'

Ronnie let out a howl that awakened Alfie, who began to sob hysterically.

'Don't be frightened, Ronnie,' Rosina said, bending down to stroke his head. 'It's Rosie. I've come to take you away from this dreadful place.'

Caddie drew her knees up, clutching her children to her breast. 'We ain't going to the workhouse, Rosie. It's all that's left to us now that our home is gone, but I'd rather die. You shan't take us.'

'My dear, no one is going to the workhouse. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I promise you that I will look after you and your babies. Now, get up and come with me. This is truly a dreadful place.'

Somehow she managed to get the small family out of the tunnel. Caddie gulped a lungful of air, which although dank with the stench of the river was somewhat fresher than that in the depths of the tunnel. 'Where shall us go? The bailiff come the day afore yesterday and they took everything from the house. Then the locksmith come and changed the locks. I had no choice but to come here.'

Rosina lifted Alfie onto her shoulders and she took Ronnie by the hand. 'Well, we're together now and that's all that matters. I'm taking you back to Sam Smilie's shop. I'm sure they'll let us stay there until morning, and then we'll set about finding somewhere to live. After all, we haven't lost everything. The
Ellie May
is at Etheredge's Wharf and I will go there first thing to see if the repairs are completed.'

Caddie nodded tiredly, cuddling her baby a little closer as they set off for Black Eagle Wharf.

Gladys threw her hands up in horror when she saw the state of the children. 'Gawd above! They look like chimney sweeps.' She tickled Ronnie's tummy, eliciting a reluctant gurgle of laughter from him. 'I never saw such a dirty boy in all me born days.'

Caddie collapsed onto the sofa and Rosina took Arthur from her arms. He stirred, opened his blue eyes and then closed them, slipping back into a deep sleep.

Bertha picked up Alfie and set him on her knee while she peeled off his filthy shirt. 'Could we have a kettle full of hot water, Glad? These little 'uns is like to catch something horrible from all this filth.'

Gladys turned to her husband who was standing in the doorway with a bemused expression on his face. 'Make yourself useful, Sam. Go and fetch a bucket of water from the pump.'

He scratched his bald head. 'I will, ducks. But I'm thinking we ain't got room to put these good people up in any comfort.'

'Please don't worry about that,' Rosina said anxiously. 'If we could just stay here for tonight, I don't mind sleeping in a chair and Bertha can have the sofa.'

'I'll fetch some blankets,' Gladys said, wrapping Ronnie in her apron. 'Go and fetch that water, Sam. I'm sure we can make do for now.'

Sam went off mumbling something unintelligible.

'I can't thank you enough, Gladys,' Rosina said, rocking Arthur gently in her arms.

'There's no need for thanks, love.' Gladys took a glass jar of barley sugar from the mantelshelf and broke off small pieces, giving one each to Ronnie and Alfie. 'Your pa was good to us when my Sam got sick with the fever and couldn't work. Neighbours help each other, that's what he used to say when he slipped me a few shillings to buy bread for the nippers. Now I got a chance to help his daughter and it would be a hard-hearted woman who could turn little chaps like these out on the street.' She moved to the table and began cutting slices from a loaf of bread. 'We've only got bread and dripping. I'm afraid it ain't what you're used to, Rosie.'

'You'd be surprised what we've got accustomed to in the past few months,' Bertha said ominously.

'Bread and dripping would go down a treat, and I could murder another cup of tea.'

*

Next morning, after an uncomfortable night when she had slept very little, Rosina raised herself from the chair by the range and stretched her cramped limbs. During her wakeful hours she had been racking her brain as to what to do next. She was desperate for news of Walter, and she fully intended to visit him in prison, but first she would have another attempt at persuading Sukey to return the diamond ring to Harry. Her whole future depended on that wretched ring. Sukey had agreed to part with it once, and if Captain Barnum had not intervened, Walter might now be a free man. She stepped carefully over the sleeping bodies of Caddie and her children as they lay curled up on the floor, covered by a threadbare blanket. Bertha was lying on the sofa with her mouth open and her bosom rising and falling rhythmically as she slept. Her legs hung over the edge, and Rosina noticed that her toes protruded through holes in her stockings. Her discarded boots were down at heel and the soles were worn through. Somehow these small observations brought home their impoverished state even more forcibly than the fact that they were now homeless. Bertha had always been so particular about appearances, and it hurt Rosina to see her in such straitened circumstances.

She crept out of the kitchen and made her way through the scullery to the tiny back yard. The pump water was cool and refreshing and she washed her face and hands, smoothing her hair back into a knot at the nape of her neck. Above her the sky was pearl-grey and the clouds were tinged pink by the rising sun. Today she must gather the threads of her old life and look to the future. It was a terrifying thought that she had five people who were dependent upon her for everything. She must think clearly and act appropriately. Shaking the water from her eyes, she put her hand in her pocket and took out the purse that Jenkins had given her. She leaned against the brick wall and counted out the coins. Once again she was struck by Roland's generosity. There was enough here to keep them going for a week or two, if she managed the money with care. First of all she would go out to the bakery in Wapping Street and purchase fresh bread for breakfast, enough for the large Smilie family as well as her own. For they were her family – Bertha, Caddie and the little boys. They might not be her flesh and blood, but she would never, never let them down. She would find a place for them to live and she would seek work. There must be something that she could do, even though she had been raised like a lady and had never had to do anything more arduous than mend a sock or a torn frill on one of her gowns.

Rosina found that Sam was already up and about, opening the shop to catch the early morning trade of sailors, dockers, sackmakers, ropemakers and riggers who wanted to fill their pouches with baccy before the start of their working day. He turned his head and smiled as she came through the door. 'You're up early, ducks.'

'I'm going to the bakery to fetch bread for breakfast, Sam.'

'Lord above us, you don't have to do that. Keep your pennies, Rosie. It seems to me, no disrespect meant, that you'll need to count every last farthing.'

'You're right, but I can't take your hospitality without giving something in return.' She flashed him a smile as the slipped out through the open door. The cool of the night still lingered, and had alleviated some of the worst of the city stench: the cobblestones gleamed with dew. All around her, it seemed as though the sleeping wharves were yawning back into life. Men were hurrying, heads down, towards their workplaces and the cranes were groaning into action as barges and lighters moored alongside, waiting to unload their cargoes. She hurried towards the High Street where she purchased bread that was fresh from the oven and still hot. She had worked out her money very carefully, and she went next to the grocer's where she bought a half-pound of butter and a pot of raspberry and plum jam as a treat for the children. She carried them back to the wharf with a spring in her step.

As soon as she had breakfasted, she would go to the Barnums' house in the hope of seeing Sukey; then she would take the omnibus to the Old Bailey, where she would visit Walter in Newgate prison. Her heart soared at the thought of seeing him again – Walter, who was really Will. He might not have admitted it, but her heart told her that they were one and the same. She could not wait to see his face again, and to tell him that she was working for his release with the aid of Septimus, if he had managed to remain sober long enough to carry out his investigations. Then she would make her way to Etheredge's Wharf to inspect the
Ellie May
.

Rosina stopped for a moment on Watson's Wharf, staring at the red-brown sails of a sailing barge. Her future was inextricably bound with the river. It was not going to be easy, but she would not be beaten. She raised her chin, looking towards the fiery red sunrise in the east. That was where prosperity lay – downriver. She would find a new home, and she would get the
Ellie May
back in business. She would succeed – or die in the attempt.

'Go away, miss. I ain't to let you in. Master's orders.' Gertie's freckled features contorted with malice when she saw Rosina; she would have slammed the door in her face if she had not put her foot over the sill.

'Please, Gertie. Just tell Miss Susan that I would like a few words with her. It's very, very important.'

Leaning her weight against the door, Gertie hissed like an angry cat. 'Go away.'

'No. I'll stay here all day if necessary. I want to see Miss Susan.'

'Who is it, Gertie?' Sukey emerged from the parlour.

Rosina pushed past Gertie, almost knocking her off her feet. 'It's me, Rosie.'

'I don't want to see you. You're not welcome here.' Sukey retreated into the room.

Ignoring Gertie's protests, Rosina followed Sukey into the parlour, closing the door behind her. 'We used to be such good friends. Won't you spare me just a few minutes?'

Sukey paced the floor, twisting the diamond ring on her left hand. 'My father has forbidden me to see you ever again. I can't go against his wishes.'

Rosina stood quite still, hardly daring to breathe. 'But you know that I would never do anything to hurt you, don't you?'

'You set your cap at Harry, even though you knew how I felt about him, and then you tried to convince me that Roland had not really proposed marriage.'

'It wasn't like that, Sukey. Roland never meant to propose to you. I told you the last time I saw you that it was all a terrible mistake. He is already engaged to another. A titled lady.'

Sukey stopped pacing. She turned to Rosina with a glint of suspicion in her blue eyes. 'How do you know that? You told me he had gone abroad. Was that a lie?'

Rosina could not meet her gaze and she looked away. 'He did go abroad.'

'You went away too. Were you together? Have you got Roland in your thrall as well as Harry?'

'No. I mean, for goodness' sake, Sukey. Walter is in Newgate because Harry accused him of stealing that hateful ring and worse. When you wouldn't help me who else was I to turn to? Who else knew the truth about the ring other than Roland?'

'Did he or did he not go abroad?'

Rosina knew that she was on dangerous ground: one false step would send her into a morass of lies. If Sukey found out that she had followed Roland to Rotterdam and that he had accompanied her back to England, she would jump to the wrong conclusions. There was a time for telling the truth and a time when it was inappropriate. Meeting Sukey's hostile gaze, Rosina knew that this was such a moment. She shook her head. 'He took my father to Burnham-on-Crouch in Essex, to stay with Bertha and her cousin while he was convalescing. I saw him in Burnham when he returned from his business trip to Holland. I begged him to come to London and make things right with you, but he was afraid.'