Folly (16 page)

176

ELIZA 1878 Seeks Out Mr. Tucker

Eliza could see that Mary was shaken up terrible. She was sneaking around, having secret outings, whispering with Bates in full view of everyone, never smiling--not even at Nut, though he seemed to be part of the mystery. She certainly wasn't her cheery self--well, who would be?

All the times it might have been Eliza! She'd been grateful before, but now ... What wouldn't she give to be in Mary's place? That was worth considering, wasn't it? If Eliza could get Mary safely elsewhere, she just might play the very same game in pursuit of Harry Bates.

So, what or who might be prevailed upon to take on Mary Finn? Hope and intrigue and wiliness popped up like blisters after a spilt kettle. Eliza would not sit about

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waiting for an act of thievery where her man was concerned. She'd got fresh vigor in her mission, and Mr. Tucker would soon be feeling it!

It was most gratifying to see the soldiers' eyes brighten at the sight of her. This was like a good deed, a
duty
, even, for a girl to spread a bit of charm about for these poor young men.
Starved
, they likely were, for a glimpse of a girl's curvy bits not to mention a kiss and a cuddle. Not that she was here to do any kissing, but Eliza was certain that even just
looking
at a healthy lass would give these boys a reason to fight a little fiercer for England.

"Now, there's a peach I'd like to take a bite of!" one fellow called out.

"A pair of peaches!" shouted another. This caused quite a chorus of remarks, going decidedly off-color. Possibly not the most
refined
regiment, thought Eliza. She'd best snag her quarry and depart quickly.

"Can I help you, miss?" It was an older, grizzly chap, a servant.

"I'm looking for Mr. Tucker, if you please. Just for a minute."

"In there." The man pointed to the stable. "But!" He held up a hand to stop her. "The men aren't permitted lady visitors dropping by willy-nilly."

"Oh. Well," said Eliza, "I'm not a lady. I mean, I am a
lady
, of course, but I'm his cousin, too. Eliza Pigeon."

"His cousin, is it?" The man scratched his chin so hard

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his tongue slid out over his lower lip. "Funny as how they've got so many sisters and cousins."

So she wasn't the first to use that ploy. What a disgusting man! Eliza wished she had a coin to sweeten him with. She adjusted her bodice instead.

"I'll let you have your minute, miss. But I'll need to be keeping an eye out for nonsense." He tipped his head for her to follow him into the stable, setting off a new round of hooting from the lingering soldiers.

Mr. Tucker was down a few stalls, brushing a horse. How did anyone work in a place that reeked so?

"I've brought your
cousin
, Mr. Tucker." The man leaned against an open bin full of straw. "You do recall your cousin? Miss, uh, Miss Pigeon?"

The young man certainly remembered her. His cheeks went all pink and his eyes skipped about like he'd been caught looking. "Of course," he said. "Thank you, Mr. Cleves. Cousin, dear. How is your injured ankle?"

"Quite healed, thank you." Would the nasty man just stand there?

"And your purse? In good health as well?"

Eliza couldn't help but laugh. He was a pretty one, that was a fact, but nervous as a chased bird. No wonder Mary was still only on nodding terms with him--he was afraid of women!

"Is ... has something happened?" His voice dropped low. "Miss Finn ... is ... also in good health?"

"The thing is, Mr.--Cousin--that Miss Finn's got herself into some trouble."

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He looked quite ill, now that she leaned closer in the gloom of the stable.

His eyes darted over to where the Cleves chap was now chewing on straw. "I wouldn't know," Mr. Tucker said, hasty-like. "I hardly know her." He shrugged, offering half a smile.

"I just wondered if she'd be a girl you might fancy?" Eliza waited for a nod or a blush, praying that he'd consider himself a suitor and entice Mary away from Bates. But no, he stared off at one of the horses, his face plain and mouth slack. She had an idea, though.

"I was wondering," said Eliza, quiet as she could, "if perhaps you'd like to know her better?"

He blinked. How could it hurt if she tried out a version of the truth?

"I'll be honest with you. She's got herself mixed up with a fellow in the house, you see. Someone who was promised to me. And so I thought, well, if you--"

"Hey," said Cleves. "What's all the whispering?"

Mr. Tucker was staring at her, blank-eyed, as if she were speaking like a Chinaman.

"I can see I was mistaken. A flirty one like Mary doesn't appeal to all kinds."

Now he reddened up. "A fellow in the
house
? On Neville Street?" His head was wagging, surprised-like.

She should stop now. But "Yes, and he's
my
fellow. I don't foretell a happy ending."

"She's ... in
trouble
?" he said. "She ... she doesn't look it, but maybe she
is
trouble." His face twitched a

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little, like he was holding a sneeze. "I ... no ... I wouldn't want, well, some fellow's leftovers."

"No, I can see that." Disappointment ached in Eliza's throat. "It's no concern of yours."

"No concern of mine."

He walked her to the stable door, with as dull a face as ever she'd seen. Perhaps he was stupid after all.

181

MARY 1878 Seeks Out Mr. Tucker

We servants went to the Sunday service, same as the family did, always scurrying home to put the luncheon on the table. Lady A. were ever so urgent about having an elegant Sunday luncheon, though the embarrassment of Miss Lucilla living here with her husband elsewhere meant no one were invited except theirselves and Miss Hollow.

Sundays, apart from those minutes in church, were as busy as any other day, but the supper was a light one. I were watching out for a minute to call my own, but it were Eliza who disappeared while Nut and I did the washing up and scoured the pots. I must have spoken to Caden ten times an hour inside my head, from haughty to pleading and back again. I only wanted a chance to say a few words to his face. But all of Monday went grinding by and most of Tuesday with me spitting prayers at Heaven there'd be a reason I'd be sent out.

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Finally, an hour before supper, Cook sighed. "Find us some fresh cress, will you, Mary? The girl who comes round this way must grow hers on a dung heap." I were out the door before I'd blinked.

The barracks and the street were near empty, where usually they were crowded with soldiers. I made myself go into the stable and found the man Cleves. I inquired could I see Mr. Tucker and he were smirking and uppity, said I should speak to an officer.

"An officer?" I said. "I only want to see Mr. Tucker for a minute."

"Third door from the end," said Cleves.

The interview behind third-door-from-the-end were a short one. It does not take long, after all, for a man to crush a girl's heart to sawdust.

I couldn't remember, after, how I'd explained my quest. His words, though, are chiseled deep in me, said patient-like and slow like I were slow myself.

"I'm sorry, miss. He requested that he be shipped out with the battalion. They departed yesterday for Afghanistan. We've got a column going through the Khyber Pass to Jellalabad."

He were using foreign words but the intent were clear.

"I believe you've been disappointed by your young man ..." Him sniggering, no doubt, behind his mustache, while my hopes tumbled straight through to my boot soles, not pausing in the middle where the cause of it all were churning me up.

183

JAMES 1888 Finds Shelter

The sharp, sweet lemon drop cheered James up. He'd better move more quickly; the rain had hurried dusk. The night and the fog were dancing, each trying to put a foot down first. He'd walk the whole way around the Hospital grounds, keeping a sharp lookout for anyone familiar. If he still hadn't found the chaplain's house, he'd widen the circle, street by street. It couldn't be too far. Miss Byrd managed to walk the distance with a cane!

James ducked from doorway to doorway until he was too wet to care. There were so many streets! And so many people! He arrived back at the Hospital's main gates, gloomy and sodden. But,
Coram's knuckles
, he saw policemen! Two bobbies were marching up the drive and two more were speaking with the porter, Mr. Travers. Was this because of James? They'd called in the police force?

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He slipped behind a stall with a painted sign, DUBIE'S WELL-MADE BROOMS. The man shooed him off with one of his meager brushes.

"Hah!" shouted James. "You call these brooms?" As a second-former, he was a broom expert. He'd made much finer! He ducked and tore away as Dubie came thwacking after him.

He watched from a doorway, only steps further along. A small crowd of dark figures clustered at the porter's booth, but it was too dim to see who they were. Behind the gates, the castle of the Hospital loomed, lights twinkling in some windows, but mostly dark. The children were in their beds by seven o'clock and it must be far past that now. When had they missed James? They'd had their supper, they'd washed, been tormented, said their prayers, and climbed into their cots. Walter would be fretting next to the empty bed. Frederick would pretend not to care. He'd likely pretend he'd helped with the escape.

There were men with lanterns assembled at the gate. They were coming to look for him, he knew it. But he hadn't found Mama Peevey yet, so he could not be found himself.

James blinked away his tears. His head was heavier than his neck could bear. He crept into a narrow lane between two houses, all the way to the end. He stamped his feet at the scooting shadows and found the entrance to a cellar, half covered by a brick archway. On his knees, he groped about in the blackness, collecting rags and newspapers that littered the alley. He laid them down across a step and made himself a nest.

185

ELIZA 1878 Mary Cracks

It gave Eliza a nip of pleasure to see Mary blubbering when she come back that day. Had she been to visit one of those women who could flush a baby? And been told a price too high? Or had her new friend Mr. Tucker hurled a few stinging words in her direction, finally armed with the truth?

Nut, the baffled little squirt, kept tugging on Mary's arm, saying, "Miss, why're you crying, miss? Miss!" until Eliza stepped in and gave him a swat. That swat got Mary's notice.

"Do not
ever
touch him again!" Her finger stabbed at Eliza. She looked half barmy.

"Mary!" Mrs. Wiggins did not tolerate the use of emotions in her kitchen. "Whatever's troubling you, it needs to get packed away. Have you got my cress?"

"No, Mrs. Wiggins," said Mary, calm-like for a moment.

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"I did not stop for the cress, as my life were ending." With that, she started up the stairs. With a blotched face and hair all thataway!

"Miss!" called Nut. "Where are you going?"

"Hell," she called back. "Straight to hell."

"Whatever has got into her?" Cook was right bewildered.

"I'll tell you," said Eliza, finally bursting out with it. "
Bates
has got into her. And left something behind, if you take my meaning."

Oh, what a pleasure to say it aloud!

Only not realizing the effect.

"Here!" cried Nut. "Help me!" He had both hands on Mrs. Wiggins, steering her swooning body into a chair.

"That was quick, Nut. Good work." Eliza flapped a tea towel in front of the cook's face.

Mrs. Wiggins blinked and pressed a hand over her heart.

"I'm off," Eliza whispered to Nut. "You stay with her and I'll find Mary."

"Don't you tell any more lies," said Nut. But Eliza was clattering up the stairs and didn't bother to answer. Where did the hussy think she was going, looking half-crazy? Not to their attic room by way of the front stairs, so what was she after? This was utterly ...
gripping
. The heat of it, the
fun
, was like a rash on Eliza, racing along her arms and up her neck.

Then, whoa! She skidded to a stop on the second

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landing. Mary was there, as distraught as she'd been below. But Miss Lucilla was there too, with Bates carrying in her purchases. They all three looked at Eliza, arriving as she did with a bit of a bump.

"Has this household gone mad?" said Miss Lucilla. "Why are you standing about, Mary? And so ...
disarranged
?"

"I've been looking for you, Mrs. Overly. I need to speak to you, private-like."

"Mary," said Bates, gentle and worried.

"For Sebastian's sake," Mary added, ignoring him.

Eliza gaped at Mary's gall. The words of the handbook flew into her mind:
Never begin to talk to the mistress unless it is to deliver a message or to ask a necessary question
.

Miss Lucilla glance around, blank as usual, seeming disconcerted to have three servants looming, expecting something from her.

But, tugging at her gloves, she rose to the moment. "Mary, take my parcels from Mr. Bates and bring them into my room." She led the way.

Bates placed the packages in Mary's arms as though he were handing over an infant. Eliza let out an exasperated gust of breath.

"Mary." Bates was urgent. "You shouldn't be here."

She grasped the parcels and turned tail, flouncing almost. Eliza reached out to touch Bates's sleeve but he shook her off as if she were Nut.