The Constant Heart (49 page)

'Caddie said to tell you that she's taken them back to the tunnel, and you'd know where to find them. I'm sorry, I truly am.' Sam reached beneath the counter and produced a bundle wrapped in butter muslin. 'Gladys packed up a bit of food to keep you going. She's out of her mind with worry, but she's a good woman and she wouldn't see no one go hungry.'

'Thank her for me, Sam. I hope the boys get well soon, and I can't thank you enough for all your kindness.' Fighting exhaustion and a feeling of desperation, Rosina hurried from the shop clutching the bundle; she headed off once again in the direction of the Thames tunnel.

She found them all huddled together in a dark alcove not far from the entrance.

'Where've you been all day?' Bertha demanded crossly. 'You should have stayed to see that we was all right and not gone gallivanting off on some fool's errand.'

Rosina squatted down on the damp floor, ignoring Bertha's outburst, and she unwrapped the parcel of food. 'I'll explain later. You'll feel better when you've had something to eat.'

'Better!' Bertha puffed out her chest, glancing nervously into the dank depths of the tunnel. 'I can't stay in this terrible place a moment longer. I can't believe as how it's come to this – us living like sewer rats or toshers. What would the captain say if he could see us now?'

Caddie laid her hand on Bertha's arm. 'Don't upset yourself so. It can't be helped.'

Bertha shook free from her grasp. 'That's easy for you to say. You're used to living like this but I ain't. My rheumatics is playing me up already in this disgusting hole.'

Ronnie and Alfie fell on the food, cramming bread into their mouths and staring wide-eyed at Bertha. Caddie hitched the baby over her shoulder, casting an anxious look at Rosina. 'What shall us do? Bertha's right. We can't stay here forever, and my babies might already have caught the sickness.'

Rosina nibbled a piece of dry bread, leaving the heel of cheese for Bertha and Caddie to eat. Their plight was desperate. She toyed with the idea of spending some of the money in her purse on a night's lodgings, but abandoned the thought immediately. They were safe down here, if not comfortable. She managed a weak smile. 'We will have to make the best of it for tonight, but I promise you we will find somewhere much more suitable tomorrow. We will start out at first light and go to Etheredge's Wharf. We still have the barge, and I have found a man of the law who will help free Walter. Once we are back in business, everything will be all right again.' She had spoken with more confidence than she was feeling, but her words seemed to have a soothing effect on Bertha and Caddie. There was nothing more she could do now, other than try to sleep on the hard ground in the eerie, echoing tunnel, listening to the constant drip, drip, drip of the water running down the brick walls.

Next morning, Rosina struggled to maintain a cheerful exterior as the small party made their way to Etheredge's boatyard. The children were fretful and Caddie was almost beside herself, watching them for symptoms of the dreaded scarlet fever. Bertha grumbled all the way, complaining of everything from sore feet to sunstroke. It came, therefore, as a welcome surprise when they finally reached Etheredge's to find that the repairs to the barge were completed. At least one of Rosina's fears was allayed: she had thought that the Gostellows might have gone back on their word, but it seemed that the work had been paid for in advance, and the account had been settled. The
Ellie May
was now hers and the barge was ready to resume trading.

'There's only one thing, miss,' the foreman said, frowning. 'We got plenty of work on hand and we needs the space. You're going to have to move the vessel away from the wharf as soon as possible, and today for preference. We've already kept her here longer than we would normally. We heard that your dad had passed away, and we're all very sorry. He was a good man, but business is business. You do understand, don't you?'

Rosina managed to nod her head and to flash him a bright smile. 'Of course. Leave it to me.'

'Well?' Bertha said impatiently. 'What did he say?'

'He said we've got to move the boat today.' Rosina stared at the swirling waters of Limehouse Hole, a deep part of Limehouse Reach where ships could turn with ease. She might be used to sailing on a Thames barge, but she had no clear idea how to steer the boat or trim the sails. She cast a desperate glance at Caddie. 'I can't sail her. I don't know how.'

Caddie squared her shoulders. 'I never done it on me own, but I've sailed with Artie afore he got the job with Captain May. We worked a lighter taking coal from the barges to the wharves. I reckon we could manage between us to shift her to another wharf.'

The foreman, apparently overhearing this conversation, cleared his throat with a polite cough. 'Er, excuse me, young ladies. Did I hear you right? Are you thinking of sailing the barge out into the reach on your own?'

Rosina eyed him warily. 'And what if we were?'

'Well, don't take me wrong, miss. But you ain't a freeman of the Watermen's Company by any chance, are you?'

'No, indeed I am not.'

'Nor, if you'll pardon my saying so, are you a qualified skipper.'

'No, but my friend here is accustomed to working on a lighter in the Pool of London. I think we two can manage to shift the
Ellie May
.'

'Look, miss. Again, don't take no offence, but it's a bit tricky on this here stretch of the river. If you'll let me, I'll lend you one of my men. He'll make sure that you gets safely to a wharf downstream.'

'Thank you, sir,' Rosina said, stifling a sigh of relief. 'That would be most kind.'

He tipped his cap. 'It's the least I can do for Captain May's daughter.' He turned abruptly and walked away, shouting instructions to one of his men to help the young ladies make sail and move the vessel to another wharf.

'And what's to become of me and the nippers while you two are playing at being sailors?' Bertha demanded crossly. 'Are we to sit on the muddy foreshore and wait for the tide to come in and collect us like bits of flotsam?'

Rosina exchanged worried glances with Caddie. 'We can't very well take the little ones on the boat.'

Caddie nodded in agreement. 'No, indeed. It would be ever so dangerous.'

'Well, I ain't no nursemaid. Not to a baby and little tykes like them two.'

Rosina pulled her purse from her reticule and took out a shiny silver florin. 'Take them to the Bunch of Grapes pub over there.' She pointed to the building. 'Maybe the landlord will let you sit in the parlour with them until we can get back. You could enquire about a cheap lodging house or some rooms that we might be able to rent.'

Bertha took the coin and stuffed it into her pocket. 'Well, I suppose that would be all right. Maybe the landlord's wife might let me have a bit of milk for the nippers.'

'Hungry,' murmured Alfie, rubbing his tummy.

'Me too,' Ronnie said, nodding his head. 'Want a drink.'

Caddie passed the baby to Bertha. 'We'll be back as soon as we can, Bertha. You threaten the boys with a good spanking if they play up. I won't stand for badly behaved children.'

'Huh!' Bertha said with feeling. 'They wouldn't dare. Bertha Spinks don't stand for no tantrums. Come on, you two. One word out of place and you'll get a thick ear.'

Rosina watched her as she stomped off towards the pub with the two little boys skipping along behind her. She turned with a start as someone plucked at her sleeve.

'Master has sent me to take you out into the reach.' A tall, gangly young man dragged off his cloth cap and grinned at her shyly. 'Pip, miss. Me name is Pip.'

She eyed him curiously. His weather-beaten face was plain to the point of being ugly, with a nose which had obviously, at some time in the past, met with a fist or a blunt instrument that had broken the bone, and now it had a slightly comical crooked appearance. His lopsided smile was impossible to resist. 'Thank you, Pip. We would be most grateful for your help.'

He nodded. 'Tide's right. We should cast off now, afore it turns.

Rosina hesitated: she was suddenly afraid, although of what she was not quite certain. She had never feared the river; it had always seemed like an old friend, but then her papa had been the master of the
Ellie May
. Caddie on the other hand seemed to have no such forebodings. She was about to descend the ladder from the wharf to the barge when Pip leapt onto the deck to assist her. He swung her down as easily as if she had been a featherweight, and then he held his hands out to Rosina. Taking a deep breath, she allowed him to help her down onto the barge. He looked from Rosina to Caddie. 'Excuse me for being so bold, but do either of you two ladies know how to steer a boat?'

Caddie moved swiftly to the tiller. 'I do, if you'll tell me which way to head.'

Pip touched his cap in a salute. 'Aye, aye, cap'n.' He gave a throaty chuckle, as if delighted by his own wit. Caddie wiped her hands on her skirt and took the tiller. Rosina saw that she was nervous, but there was nothing that she could do, nothing except stand back and watch while Caddie steered the boat and Pip set the topsail to catch the light airs. 'We can't go too far away,' she said, thinking of Bertha and the children waiting for them in the pub.

'It's all right, miss. We can moor close to Duke Stairs, and it ain't far to walk back to Etheredge's.' Pip turned to Caddie with an appreciative smile. 'You done well, miss. As if you was born to it, like.'

'Me husband taught me how to steer a boat. He said I was a natural.'

Pip's smile faded. 'You're married then, miss?'

'Widowed.'

'Oh!' Pip's face split into a huge grin.

When the
Ellie May
was safely away from the wharf Rosina stifled a sigh of relief. 'That was well done, both of you.'

'Nothing to it, miss.' Pip took the tiller from Caddie. 'I'll take her from here, miss – er, missis. It ain't far to Duke Stairs and I know a place where we can moor her safely for the time being.'

Caddie moved to where Rosina had perched on a coil of rope. 'He seems to know what he's doing, all right.'

Rosina nodded her head, keeping an eye on Pip as he skilfully manoeuvred the vessel around tiers of lighters and dumb barges, heading for a small wharf. He might not be very bright, but he certainly knew what he was doing when it came to sailing a barge. An idea struck her and she rose to her feet, making her way across the deck to his side. 'Mr Pip, do you think it possible that you might be able to work for me? I need to start working the river but neither Caddie nor I are qualified to sail a barge. We desperately need to resume trading, or we will starve. It's as simple as that.'

'That's simple all right, miss.' Pip's brow furrowed into lines and he was silent for a while as he manoeuvred the vessel skilfully alongside the wharf. He passed the tiller to Caddie. 'Hold her steady, missis, while I make her fast.' On shore he might move clumsily, but on board the barge he was as nimble as a performing monkey: he shinned up the ladder with the mooring rope in his hand, made fast and landed back on deck with a flying leap.

'Thank you, Mr Pip,' Rosina said, smiling. 'Where did you learn to handle a boat like that?'

'They trained us at the foundling hospital, miss. But they reckoned as how I weren't bright enough to pass no tests, so they sent me to the repair yard. I always wanted to work on the river, not just on the shore, but I'm a bit touched in the head, like.'

'I don't think that's true,' Rosina said gravely. 'From what I've seen, you are more than competent, but I can't afford to pay you very much, Mr Pip. Not for a while anyway. I believe my papa paid Artie a percentage of the profit on the cargo. And you would only have myself and Caddie to crew for you. I cannot afford to hire a master.'

Pip slapped his sides and seemed to find this hilarious, laughing until he was breathless. 'That's a good 'un, miss. Me, simple Pip Phillips, a waterman! Well, I never did.'