The Constant Heart (17 page)

They had climbed onto the table looking for more food. Rosina knew next to nothing about looking after small children, but she remembered that Bertha used to give her bread soaked in warm milk, sprinkled with a little sugar. She made some for them and was gratified when they demolished it in seconds and asked for more. They seemed to have forgotten about their mother for the moment, and Rosina was relieved not to have to answer any awkward questions.

As soon as they had eaten, she took them upstairs to her own room and put them to bed. She sat with them until they fell asleep. She smoothed their damp curls back from their foreheads and tucked the sheet up to their small chins. Poor little mites, she thought, sadly. What if they were to lose their mamma now? She went downstairs, praying silently that Caddie would have the strength to survive.

When Bertha returned, half an hour later, Rosina took one look at her face and was alarmed by her serious expression. 'Oh, Bebe. She's not . . .?'

Bertha slumped down on her chair by the range. 'She's very weak, but we've done all we can for her. Nora says she's seen worse.'

'You look tired, dear Bebe. I'll make you a pot of tea.'

'Ta, love. That's just what I need. As if things wasn't bad enough, we had a bit of a to-do with the blooming rent collector. He come demanding the rent and the poor soul hadn't got a penny to her name. Nora and me sent him off with a flea in his ear, but he'll be back tomorrow.'

'Papa and Artie should be home by then. Poor Caddie. We can't leave her alone in those dreary rooms, Bebe. We must bring her here and look after her.'

Forgetting their differences, Rosina went straight to Walter to ask for his help. She did not have to ask him twice. He organised the construction of a makeshift stretcher, using a piece of canvas and two spars donated by Higgins, the sailmaker. With Sam Smilie's help, he dismantled Caddie's bed and they reassembled it in the attic room at the top of the Mays' house. One of the sailmaker's apprentices staggered over with a pile of pillows and bedding and went back to fetch the truckle bed for Ronnie and Alfie. With their combined efforts, Caddie was brought to the house and put to bed.

When Rosina took her up a cup of tea she was horrified to find her lying pale and lifeless with tears running down her cheeks. 'There, there, Caddie, dear. Please don't cry.' She propped her up on the pillows and supported her while she sipped the hot, sweet tea.

'My baby,' Caddie sobbed. 'My baby.'

Rosina put the cup down and hugged her. 'Your baby is safe and well and being cared for by Gladys.'

'I want to hold him. You aren't lying to me, are you? He is all right?'

'He's a fine, healthy boy. And he has no name yet. What are you going to call him?'

Caddie managed a watery smile. 'He must be named after his dad. I wanted both Ronnie and Alfie to be called Arthur, but my Artie wouldn't have it. What? says he. Call them poor little tykes after me? Not likely! But this time I won't be overruled.'

'And it's a fine name, Caddie.'

'Now I want to see me boys. Please let me see them, Rosie.'

'You can see them when they wake up from their nap. Artie will be home tomorrow and you must get some rest. You don't want him to see you in a state, now do you?'

Caddie laid her head against Rosina's shoulder. 'I'm sorry. I – I just can't seem to stop c-crying.'

Rosina stroked her hair and made sympathetic noises, but she was at a loss to know what to do for the best. She stifled a sigh of relief when she heard Bertha's heavy tread on the stairs.

'Now, now, what's all this?' Bertha demanded as she wheezed into the attic room. 'I've got something here what will make you sleep, young lady.' She produced a brown medicine bottle from her pocket, uncorked it and poured a few drops of dark liquid into a teaspoon. 'Move away, Rosie. I'll take over now.'

Caddie took her medicine like an obedient child and lay back against the pillows, closing her eyes.

'Will she be all right?' Rosina whispered as they made their way downstairs.

'She will, so long as she don't start bleeding all over again. Nora said she'll look in later, but we've got to keep her quiet.'

'Thank goodness Papa and Artie will be coming home tomorrow,' Rosina said with feeling.

Rosina was too busy looking after Ronnie and Alfie to be worried when the
Ellie May
did not arrive on the morning tide. But as midday approached she was beginning to feel anxious. She had allowed the boys to go upstairs to see their mother, but Caddie tired easily, and Rosina took them into the kitchen where Bertha was preparing their dinner.

'For the love of God, get them kids out of me way,' Bertha said as Ronnie tugged playfully at her apron strings. 'Heaven knows, I like nippers, but I can't make a pot of oxtail stew with them under me feet.'

'All right, Bebe, we'll go and see Uncle Walter.'

'Huh!' Bertha said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. 'Uncle Walter indeed. Don't you get too familiar with that young man, Rosie. I seen the way he looks at you.'

'Walter?' Rosina gurgled with laughter. 'You're imagining things, Bebe. Walter is just a friend.'

'Men are never just friends. You keep him in his place, and concentrate on them as is in your station of life, so to speak.'

'I suppose you mean Harry?' Rosina caught Alfie by the hand. 'Stop matchmaking, Bebe. I'll make up my own mind about Mr Gostellow.'

Bertha looked up from chopping vegetables and her eyes were alert with curiosity. 'Has he proposed then?'

'Never you mind.' Rosina made a grab for Ronnie as he was about to head for the stairs. 'Come with me, boys. We'll leave Miss Crosspatch to get on with our dinner.'

She would tell Bertha everything, of course, but not yet. As she went towards the office, she could hear raised voices. She realised that it was Walter and Harry, and they seemed to be having an argument. They stopped mid-conversation as she entered the room. Ronnie and Alfie made a dash for Walter and clung to his legs, demanding sweets.

'Rosie, darling.' Harry took her hand and brushed it with his lips. 'How lovely you look this morning.'

Despite the fact that she had decided to reconsider his proposal, his proprietorial attitude struck a false chord. He was acting as though they were already engaged. She snatched her hand free, feeling the ready colour rise to her cheeks as she met Walter's questioning gaze. He looked away before she could speak, and he appeared to be more interested in feeding the little boys with broken biscuits than in what she might have to say. Really, she thought, men could be such infuriating creatures at times. Harry was assuming too much, and Walter was being difficult again. She would not let either of them see that she was ruffled by their differing attitudes. She managed a smile. 'Good morning, Harry. Good morning, Walter. I thought I heard raised voices. Is there anything wrong?'

'Nothing to bother your pretty head about, my dear,' Harry said. 'It was just business.'

'But the business is my concern, Harry. One day, when I reach my majority, it will be mine.'

'And when we are married I shall take all that responsibility from your delicate shoulders.'

'Harry!' She shot a covert glance at Walter, but he did not seem to be listening. She lowered her voice. 'I haven't accepted your proposal yet.'

'And I will continue to live in hope, but until then I intend to spoil you as you deserved to be spoiled. In fact, my love, I was just making arrangements with Walter for our next trip to Cremorne Gardens, since you enjoyed our last outing so much.'

'Oh, really? And what does Walter have to say about that?' She raised her voice so that Walter could not fail to hear, unless he had been struck deaf, which he quite obviously had not, as he looked up with a carefully guarded expression on his face. 'What do you have to say, Walter?' She could not quite keep the edge from her voice.

He shrugged his shoulders. 'Perhaps you should ask your father first. It's not up to me, Miss Rosina.'

So, he had reverted to being cold and formal. She bit back a sharp retort. When they had worked together to help Caddie it seemed as though their differences had been forgotten. Now it appeared that they were still very much on Walter's mind. She would not let him see that she was upset, and she turned to Harry. 'I'll speak to Papa when he comes home. I'm sure he'll agree. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take the children to see Sukey. Ronnie, Alfie, come along.'

'I have business in Watson's Wharf. I'll accompany you, if I may?'

'Of course, Harry.' Rosina shot a sideways glance at Walter, but he was making the children laugh by pulling funny faces at them. 'Come along, boys. Uncle Walter has more important things to do than play with you.'

Walter gave her a direct look, but he made no response. She took the children by the hand and led them from the office with Harry following close behind.

'When may I call on your father?' He fell into step beside her. 'Don't look alarmed, my dear. I only mean to ask his permission to take you on the next outing.'

'Harry, I wish you would not speak to me in front of other people as though we were already engaged.' Rosina bent down to pick up Alfie and she hoisted him onto her hip.

'Surely you don't count your father's clerk, Rosie? Walter is an employee, a mere servant. What he thinks doesn't matter.'

'Not to you, maybe, but it does to me. Walter is my friend, Harry.'

'And yet you were quite happy to trick him into thinking that we had dinner at my parents' house the other night, just so that you could accompany me to Cremorne Gardens. You used him as a decoy, Rosie. Now, I could be wrong, but I don't think that's the way to treat a friend.'

It was too painfully true, and Rosina could not look at him. Nor could she think of a suitable reply. She was saved from answering by Ronnie, who tripped and would have fallen if she had not held on to his little hand, jerking him to his feet. 'You're all right, Ronnie. We're nearly there.'

'You haven't answered my question, dearest. When may I call on your father?'

'Perhaps tomorrow, Harry. His mood will depend on whether or not he has had a good trip, and if you have another cargo for him.'

Harry stopped as they reached the Barnums' front door, and he smiled at her, gently pinching her cheek. 'What a good little businesswoman you will make, my pet. Of course I'll have another cargo for your father – a hundred cargoes if it pleases you. I'll call on him in the morning, and I'll bring a formal invitation from my mama, asking you both to dine with us.'

'Don't go too fast, Harry. You won't push me into making a decision.'

He reached across her to rap on the door knocker. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he looked deeply into her eyes. 'I will wait forever, if necessary. But I pray it won't be that long before I can make you mine. I have a fancy for an autumn wedding and a honeymoon in Italy.'

The door opened and Gertie looked them up and down. 'Yes?'

'Goodbye, Harry.' Rosina did not wait for Gertie to ask her into the house; she pushed past unceremoniously, dragging the children with her. Harry was going altogether too fast for her. The idea of being engaged was not unappealing, but the thought of getting married so soon was frankly terrifying. She breathed a sigh of relief as Gertie slammed the door, shutting Harry out.

'Some folks has got no manners,' Gertie muttered.

'I beg your pardon?' Rosina drew herself up to her full height, but it was difficult to appear haughty with two small children clinging to her, and wiping their noses on her skirt.

'I suppose you wants to see Miss Sukey?'