The Forget-Me-Not Summer (14 page)

Missie proceeded to tell them how she had been walking along the shore on her way to the village when she noticed a ship anchored out in the bay, and a small boat being rowed ashore. The men on it had hailed her, asking for directions to the island's only port. Suspecting nothing, she had waited until they came ashore before beginning to explain how they must proceed. She had scarcely begun her explanation, however, when she felt a stunning blow on the back of her head which plunged her into darkness. When she recovered consciousness, the ship was at sea once more, and one of the men, the crew called him Cripple Jack because he had a wooden leg, told her that their cook had been washed overboard in a tropical storm and Captain Hogg had kidnapped her to do the work the drowned man had performed.

Missie had tried to escape and had only desisted when the captain had threatened to put her in leg irons; had he done so she would not have dared to jump overboard, knowing that she would sink like a stone. So she had promised obedience if only he would take her back to her home island when he returned to the West Indies. He promised, of course, but she very soon realised that he was not a man of his word and would do no such thing. There were still places where human beings could be bought and sold, and she knew herself to be a very good cook, and an efficient maid of all work. There were people who would be happy to have her services without having to pay her a wage. She realised she must escape as soon as an opportunity offered itself.

When the
Pride of the Sea
berthed in Liverpool, every member of the crew wanted to go ashore, for Liverpool was famous amongst seamen for its many markets and
consequently many bargains. It fell to Cripple Jack to be left on board to keep an eye on Missie, and make sure she did not escape. But by this time Missie was familiar with the whole ship, for she had cleaned and scrubbed every inch of it, so when the ship was deserted, save for Cripple Jack and herself, she went to the captain's cabin and unlocked the cupboard where he kept his supply of rum. She filled a large glass almost to the brim with the spirit and took it out on deck, telling Cripple Jack that the captain had left the bottle out on his table and this was her private treat to herself.

He had immediately taken the glass from her hand and put it to his lips. She pretended to try to get it back, which made him drink all the faster. The gangway had been drawn up, but this was no bar to Missie. She waited until Cripple Jack's snores were deafening, then climbed nimbly over the ship's rail and with the aid of a loose rope lowered herself on to the quay, and simply disappeared amongst the crowds of people thronging the dockside.

Drunk with the success of her scheme, for freedom is a giddying experience after weeks of torment and imprisonment aboard a not very large merchant ship, she had trotted along, heading away from the docks. She meant to hide up somewhere until the
Pride of the Sea
had left the port, then return to the docks and stow away on any ship which was heading for the Indies. She had no money on her, of course, not so much as a penny piece, so she could not buy a passage, which was a great nuisance, since stowing away depended on her ability to find some nook or cranny where she would not be discovered. But that was for later; at present all that mattered was that she not be taken back aboard the
Pride of the Sea
.

She was some way from the docks and was wishing she had had the forethought to provide herself with some food, apart from the handful of ship's biscuits she had put into the pocket of her shabby black dress earlier in the day, when she heard a shout from behind her and, glancing back, saw the first mate pushing his way through the crowds towards her.

With her heart beating overtime she still retained enough presence of mind to knock over a box of fish awaiting collection, and saw the mate slip, try to regain his balance and then go down with an almighty crash, uttering swear words at which even the most broad-minded of seamen would raise startled eyebrows. Terrified, she had set off at her fastest pace and very soon had left the docks – and the mate – far behind, though by now panic had her in its grip. She was running from she knew not what; she simply knew that she would keep on running until her breath gave out.

It was then that she had spotted an old house with an overgrown basement and dived into the tangle of weeds and rubbish. She heard the pursuit go past but stayed in her hiding place, watching, as darkness fell and the moon came up. She saw many things, including drunken members of the crew, some accompanied by women, heading back towards the docks. Captain Hogg and his first mate had come last, but by then all thought of leaving her hidden nook had been forgotten in her anxiety not to be recaptured. Even her thirst had not been sufficient to drive her out of cover.

When eventually morning came and the danger seemed less, Missie had come out of her nook and continued to head away from the docks. She had rounded a corner and
found herself amongst factories instead of houses. Missie could see nowhere to hide, but she had been pretty sure there was no need; by now the men would all be back on ship, and the
Pride
would be heading for the open sea.

Indeed, she had been beginning to relax when she had heard someone shout behind her. Her heart had redoubled its frantic beating and she had hurled herself at a huge ivy-covered wall, finding the door quite by accident and shooting through it. Then she had collapsed upon the waist-high grass, wriggling deep into cover and staring at the door as though it might presently open to reveal the entire crew of the
Pride of the Sea
, come to drag her back into captivity. Nothing had happened, however, and she eventually realised that the shout she had heard had had nothing to do with her. As the days passed she had grown more confident, though she only left her sanctuary after dark, and never lingered outside the great wall for longer than necessity dictated.

The soft, sing-song voice ceased, and Miranda and Steve stared at the old woman with considerable admiration, which Steve was the first to admit. ‘Gosh, that's the most exciting story I've ever heard and you're brave as a perishin' tiger,' he told her. ‘But why do you go outside the garden, Missie? Especially if you still consider it dangerous to do so.'

Missie grinned, a flash of very white teeth in her dark face. ‘I need food,' she said simply. ‘I only go out in dark. First I make sure Cap'n Pig's ship not there, because he bear a grudge and I worth money as slave. I also look for ship to take me home.'

‘And you've not found one?' Miranda asked incredulously. ‘Not in all the time you've spent in England?'

Steve was watching Missie's face; it was difficult to read her expression but he thought a look which could almost be guilt crossed her face. ‘I have no money for passage; if I stow away I at mercy of captain. I too afraid.' She smiled, first at Miranda and then at Steve. ‘That why I so happy when you came, and came again. I begin to tidy garden . . . once, you gave me bread and cheese. I want help yet dare not ask until I sure you good people and my friends.'

Steve and Miranda exchanged a doubtful look. Neither had any idea of how much a passage from Liverpool to the West Indies would cost but both thought it would be a great deal. However, if they could find a ship bound for the West Indies and explain to her captain how Missie had been kidnapped, then surely a man of principle would take the old woman back home? Steve said as much and Missie nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, yes, but I need someone to speak for me. The
Pride of the Sea
cannot be only bad ship. If I tell wrong person, they could offer me passage then sell me at another port. I dare not, oh, I dare not!'

Steve and Miranda both nodded; in Missie's position, having suffered once from such treatment, they too would have hesitated to take any sort of risk. But Missie was gazing at them, her eyes bright with hope as she continued her story. It seemed that despite her desire to leave England she no longer visited the docks, realising that she might easily end up worse off if she asked for help from a smiling scoundrel. She pointed out, however, that her new friends might, with safety, haunt the docks during daylight hours and ask openly which captain, on a ship heading for the West Indies, was to be trusted to honour any promise he might make.

When Miranda suggested that Missie might write to her former employers, asking for their help, she pulled a doubtful face, explaining that she had been absent for so long that everyone would assume she had been taken by a shark, and would suspect a letter from a woman they had mourned for dead was a forgery by a confidence trickster wanting money.

‘I see. Then of course we'll help,' Miranda said warmly. ‘Though if you have to buy a passage, I don't know how we are to find the money. You see, ever since my mother disappeared more than a year ago, I've had to live with my aunt, who's not only poor but mean as well, and Steve here has a great many brothers and his parents need every penny to feed and clothe their kids.'

Missie's face, which had been full of hope, fell, but Miranda leaned forward and squeezed her hand. ‘It's all right. I've a friend who's a policeman; he might be able to tell us . . .'

Missie gave a small shriek and reminded Miranda that she was here illegally, with no papers, no passport, nothing to prove her story true.

‘Yes, of course,' Miranda said slowly. ‘Then you have no choice but to stow away. If we can find a crew member who's willing to help you . . .'

‘Someone like that would need paying, though,' Steve put in firmly. ‘But I think you're right, Miranda. Missie's best bet is to leave as quietly – and illegally – as she arrived.' He turned to the little old woman, whose face promptly lit up with hope once more. ‘Don't you know anyone from your home island who might be willing to give a fellow countrywoman a helping hand? Someone visiting England? What about those kids, the ones you
said were sent to school in England once they were old enough to leave their family; would they help if they knew you were in trouble?'

‘But if they're only kids . . .' Miranda began, only to be immediately interrupted.

‘If they are at a boarding school in England, they must be at least as old as us, probably even older,' Steve said. He turned to Miranda. ‘Have you an address for them?'

Missie's face, which had lit up with hope once more, fell. ‘No, no address,' she said sadly. ‘Master Julian and Master Gerald stay with uncle during holidays.'

Steve frowned. ‘The autumn term starts in a few days, probably a week or two later for boarding schools. But we can scarcely search the whole of England for two boys when we have no idea of their address.'

Miranda leaned forward and stared hard at Missie's tired, lined little face. ‘Think hard, Missie,' she urged. ‘Haven't they ever mentioned a town or a city, or a street even? The Grimshaws must have mentioned something about it.'

Missie shook her head slowly. ‘No, only that it's the Browncoat School . . .' She looked startled as Miranda and Steve gave a yell of triumph, and Miranda jumped up and grabbed Missie by both hands, pulling her off the stone seat and whirling her round and round until they both collapsed back on to the bench once more.

‘Missie, that's all we need to know,' Miranda said breathlessly. ‘The Browncoat School is famous, and it's no more than ten miles from Liverpool, which is probably why the Grimshaws chose to send their sons to it. Gosh, it looks as though we're on the right track at last. But will Julian and Gerald have enough money to buy
you a passage home? Do they have some way of contacting their parents?'

Missie's face was one enormous beam, and at Miranda's question she nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, yes; they can send what they call a cable. I'm certain all would be well. They are very good boys and will believe my story.'

Steve stood up. ‘Right, then I think we should have a plan of action,' he said briskly. The best thing is to wait until we're sure term has started at Browncoats. Then we can go up to Crosby, which is only a bus ride away. You'll have to come with us, Missie, because otherwise we won't be able to recognise Julian or Gerald, and might start telling your story to the wrong people, which would never do. I think we should go up to the school a week on Saturday.' He scowled at Missie, who was vigorously shaking her head once more. ‘Now don't say you're afraid that the crew of the
Pride of the Sea
might be lurking around the Browncoat school, because that's downright silly. They can scarcely kidnap you when you're with us and miles from the docks!'

But at the mere suggestion of leaving Jamaica House during daylight, Missie, who had been so brave, broke into floods of tears and begged them not to try to take her away from the only place she knew. Miranda and Steve begged, pleaded and argued, to no avail. Finally, Steve said, bitterly, that if she was determined not to go with them then she had better give an exact description of both boys, and also write an explanatory note which they could show Julian and Gerald if their own word was doubted.

Missie looked from one face to the other, then spoke hesitantly. ‘There is a way that is used on my island to
show what cannot otherwise be seen,' she said slowly. ‘It is frowned upon by the Grimshaws and many others, but . . . are you willing to try? It – it is a sort of magic . . .'

‘I'll try; I believe in magic,' Miranda said eagerly. ‘What do I have to do, Missie?'

Missie smiled at her, but shook her head, ‘Eldest first, is rule,' she said. ‘Close eyes, Steve, and think of nothing; make your mind blank or think of blue sky, and little white clouds . . . then I show you Master Julian.'

As she spoke she placed both hands on Steve's temples and began to mutter, and presently, to the boy's astonishment, he saw a face. It was less a boy's face than that of a young man, with thick, light brown hair bleached by the sun, a high-bridged nose and light blue eyes. Startled, Steve gave an involuntary jump. Missie's hands fell from his head and he opened his eyes to see her staring at him anxiously. ‘What you see?' Missie asked.