Far From Home (49 page)

She crossed the bridge and cantered towards the foothills and up the mountain track. The air felt crisp and sharp as if there would soon be snow. The sky was blue, with soft white clouds floating above the mountain tops. Hetty snickered and put up her ears. ‘Yes, Hetty,’ Georgiana murmured. ‘It’s a long time since you and I had such a ride.’ She stroked the horse’s neck. ‘And there have been many changes since we were last here.’

When she reached the ridge she turned to look back as she always did. Smoke was curling from the chimneys of the cabins, sawing and hammering reverberated along the valley as more buildings were being put up. The valley had a permanent, established look to it, she thought. As if the cabins and buildings were putting down roots and settling themselves comfortably into the ground.

She turned again and rode into the forest. She had asked Dekan if he would show her where Lake had died, but he had shaken his head and told her it was a faraway place. ‘But you will find his spirit in the forests and the mountains, or by the rivers and streams,’ he had said. ‘He will always be there if you look for him.’

‘I know that to be true,’ she murmured now. ‘For that is what Lake himself said.
I am at one with the elements of nature, the solitude and the silence
.’ She drew into a space between a group of trees and listened. She could almost hear his low voice, his breathing and his presence. Something scuttled nearby and she turned her head. The tops of the trees rustled as a cool breeze blew and she thought she could hear the distant howl of a wolf.

‘I know you are here,’ she said softly. ‘And you told me that whilst you were on this earth, you would always love me.’ Her breath caught in her throat. ‘But you have left me alone and I miss you so much.’ She started to sob and, covering her face with her hand, she allowed the mare to find her own way back down to Dreumel’s Creek.

Wilhelm went on a final journey to Philadelphia before winter. He brought Georgiana a letter from Larkin, though written by Dolly, to tell her that Edward had died a peaceful death. ‘He sent his last words of love to his little girl,’ they wrote. ‘And asked that we tell you he trusts her life to you.’

Georgiana folded up the letter, swallowed a lump in her throat, heaved a sigh and considered that she was now totally and morally responsible for Jewel’s upbringing. She called the child to her and, holding her in her arms, told her quietly and gently of her father’s death and that she would be looking after her from now on.

As time passed, Jewel often cried and pensively asked about her papa and questioned why he had to die. Sometimes at bedtime as Georgiana tucked her up, she would cling to her and ask when she would be going home. Georgiana decided one night that in order to distract her she would tell her of her father’s life before he went to live in California.

‘Before me, do you mean, Aunt Gianna?’ she asked, and her mouth trembled. She sat up in bed. ‘And before Larkin and Jed and Dolly!’

‘Yes,’ Georgiana replied, and realized how Edward had sheltered his daughter, and that apart from her little friend Lorenzo and his mother, these were the only people that Jewel knew. So she told her of her father’s brother Martin, and of her grandmother, then reluctantly told her of May, Edward’s wife.

‘So, she’s my mama!’ Jewel said eagerly. ‘May we go and see her?’

‘She isn’t your mama,’ Georgiana explained. ‘Your mama was a lovely Chinese lady, called Tsui. May is an English lady who lives in another country.’

Jewel seemed confused. ‘Does my grandmother live in another country?’

‘She does. She lives in England.’ Gently she pulled the covers over her and tucked her in again. ‘I’ll tell you more another day. Now, time for sleep.’

Over the winter, Jewel asked many questions about her uncle and if he had any children, and about May, and demanded why she lived in a different place from her papa, and Georgiana answered as best she could. The child often followed Wilhelm about, tugging on his sleeve or holding his hand as if she needed the reassurance of a male presence, used as she had been to her father, Jed and Larkin. Wilhelm responded warmly to the little girl, building her a toboggan and playing with her in the snow. Then Jewel asked Kitty if she was Caitlin’s mama and looked curiously at Ted when he said that he was Caitlin’s da.

‘Poor little mite,’ Kitty said. ‘She’s all mixed up. Perhaps you should take her to England to see her gran and her uncle! I know I would take Caitlin home to see my ma if she was alive.’

Georgiana was thoughtful. The idea had crossed her mind more than once, not only for Jewel’s sake, but her own. She was restless, couldn’t concentrate on any project and whenever she looked up into the mountains, she imagined she could see the image of Lake riding down the track towards her.

Wilhelm came into her log house for supper one night as he often did. It was cosy and warm, unlike her old cabin, and they sat together after Jewel was put to bed, watching the flames dancing in the stove.

‘There’s a shadow enveloping me, Wilhelm,’ she confided, knowing that he would understand, having been through this sorrow himself. ‘Wherever I go, wherever I look, Lake is there, and—’ She swallowed hard as emotion threatened to overwhelm her. ‘I don’t ever want to forget him.’

She wiped away a tear which had escaped onto her cheek. ‘But – I am in limbo. He’s holding me fast. Whilst I am here within the sight of his mountains and forests, I cannot proceed with my life.’ She lifted a melancholy face to him. ‘Am I being disloyal? Am I forgetting our love so quickly?’

‘No,’ he said softly. ‘You are not being disloyal, but you are still young.’ He smiled as she shook her head and denied that she was. ‘Yes, you are. You still have youth and vigour running through your veins.’

‘Dearest Wilhelm.’ She put her hand into his. ‘Whatever would I do without you? You are so wise.’

‘No.’ His voice cracked as he spoke. ‘I am not wise at all. I am the most foolish man in the world.’

She gave a tearful laugh. ‘Why do you say that?’

He wiped his eye as if he had something in it. ‘Because I know that I am.’

‘I think I might go to England in the spring,’ she said suddenly, and didn’t notice his sharp intake of breath. ‘Jewel should meet her father’s family and they should meet her. Her grandmother might want to bring her up.’

‘But you will come back to Dreumel’s Creek?’ he asked quietly. ‘Your home is here, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t know.’ Her voice was sad. ‘If it is my home, I mean. I have travelled so many thousands of miles since I came to America that I’m unsettled and can’t tell if I’m ready to put down roots. Since Lake died I have no conception of where I belong.’ She thought for a moment, then added, ‘And I’m not sure if I knew before.’

‘I would miss you,’ he murmured. ‘Dreumel’s Creek isn’t the same without you. I discovered that when you went to California.’

She nodded absent-mindedly. ‘I know.’ She looked up at him and was surprised at how downcast he was. ‘I would miss you too, Wilhelm. Everyone. But it needn’t be for ever.’ She bit on her lip as she considered. ‘I feel that I owe it to Jewel. Her father entrusted her to my care and I must do what I think is best for her.’

He gave an exasperated exclamation. ‘And what is best for you, Georgiana? You escaped to America to find freedom! To prove that you are an independent woman. Yet you cannot let go of what you consider your obligations – your – allegiances!’

She stared at him. She had never seen him so roused. He was the calmest, steadiest man she had ever known, yet now he was flushed with what seemed to be outrage.

‘So – is that wrong? Should I disregard my inner feelings of loyalty? My conscience? Please advise me, Wilhelm, for I value your opinion.’ She gazed at him beseechingly. ‘Because I no longer know what is right or wrong or indeed what I want.’

He put his hand wearily to his forehead and rubbed it. ‘I’m sorry, Georgiana. So very sorry. I spoke hastily. Of course you must do what you think is best. You have the right to choose. That has always been your aim. Jewel is a dear sweet child and, yes, she must visit her family. It is only just and fair.’

He got up to leave and patted her shoulder as she sat on the sofa looking up at him. ‘I’m being selfish.’ He gave a whimsical laugh which didn’t quite convince her. ‘I am thinking only of our evenings together – our conversations. I will miss those. Who will I talk to when you go away?’ She saw him take a deep breath as he continued. ‘As of course you must.’

Am I making the right decision? she wondered as the ship left New York the following spring. I asked myself this same question when I departed from England over five years ago. Am I now merely retracing my steps? Why am I leaving my friends whom I love so dearly?

Kitty had given birth to a boy during that long harsh winter, and had called him Robert, his father’s real name. Wilhelm had been subdued all winter, concerned, she thought, about his cattle surviving the cold. But he had come to see her and Jewel off at New York, waving both arms in the air as the packet ship pulled away up the river Hudson on course for Liverpool, from where they would travel by railway across to Hull.

For the first fortnight the weather was fair and the sea calm, but then a hurricane blew in, the ship tossed and rocked on the high seas, their belongings fell from shelves and the lantern swayed precariously from its hook in the ceiling. Both Georgiana and Jewel were so sick they couldn’t eat anything but thin soup and biscuits. The sea was rough for several days, with wind and hail to add to their discomfort, and they kept to their cabin, which was hot and stuffy. When they finally emerged as the storm abated and there was a fresh breeze carrying them, they saw that there had been considerable damage on deck, with a ripped and tattered jib sail and a broken mast. The rest of the journey was long and tedious and they spent weary days walking around the deck for exercise.

A train was leaving Liverpool early the following morning after they disembarked. It was cold, dark and wet in Liverpool and as the train chugged and hissed its way towards Hull, Jewel leaned exhaustedly against Georgiana. She had lost weight during the journey and her face was drawn and pallid, making her dark oriental eyes look enormous.

‘Are we nearly there, Aunt Gianna?’ she whispered. ‘I am so very, very tired.’

‘Poor darling.’ Georgiana put her arm around her. ‘Rest if you can; it is a long journey but we’ll be there before nightfall.’

An elderly woman sitting across from them in the carriage had been eyeing them surreptitiously since the start of the journey. Now she leaned towards Georgiana and asked curiously, ‘Is your husband a Chinaman, my dear?’

How very impertinent, Georgiana thought. ‘No,’ she answered plainly.

‘Oh? Then the child is not yours?’

Georgiana didn’t see fit to answer her, but the woman stared at Jewel and continued. ‘My son has gone to America. I was to have gone too but I changed my mind at the last minute, which is why I am travelling back on this train. He told me just before we were due to board that there were all kinds of people in America. Black and yellow, Red Indians even!’

‘So there are,’ Georgiana replied coldly. ‘And pink and white just like you and me.’

Surely Jewel won’t be turned away because of her Chinese blood? she pondered. I hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps her grandmother will not accept her as part of her own family? Will Martin? And whatever is May going to say when she sees her?

Georgiana was quite disorientated when they stepped from the train in Hull. She felt cramped and hemmed in, used as she was to the wide open landscape of America. The smells of the blubber and seed oil which drifted over the town made her feel nauseous. She was disturbed too at the sight of beggars, men, women and barefoot children, sitting in the station waiting for the arrival of visitors with their hands outstretched and a desperate appeal in their eyes.

I’d forgotten about them, she thought, as she dropped a copper into a woman’s eager hand. How could I? Why did I not remember when I was desperate for my own independence that there were so many others in need? Her thoughts turned to the young girl Grace, who had so actively campaigned for women in poverty. She had then married Edward’s brother Martin, who had fallen in love with her. I wonder if she has given up that cause now that she is married to a rich man. It would be so easy to forget, she thought guiltily. Just as I have done.

They walked from the railway concourse into the Royal Station Hotel, where they were to rest for a few days before proceeding to make their visits. Georgiana had written to Edward’s mother telling her of his death, and also to May so that she could make preparations for her marriage. She had also told them that she was journeying back, but she hadn’t mentioned Jewel, preferring to tell them in person.

The hotel, though newly built the year that Georgiana and Kitty left for America, had been refurbished and decorated for the visit of Queen Victoria two years earlier. The manager proudly showed Georgiana and other special visitors the apartments which the Queen had occupied, and which had been furnished in a rich and sumptuous manner.

‘Nowhere in the world can you find an hotel finer than this,’ he exclaimed, pointing out the elegant pillars and arches and handsome glass roof above the entrance court. Georgiana, having seen the Astor and many other New York and Philadelphia hotels, agreed that the Royal Station Hotel compared very favourably in every degree.

The next day she showed Jewel the old shipping town of Hull and found that she had, after all, a warm feeling inside her when she saw the familiar landmarks of the town and the choppy brown waters of the Humber. They walked down the shopping street of Whitefriargate, where the rich bought their fripperies and the poor queued at the workhouse door. She showed the child the ships in the old dock which had been renamed the Queen’s Dock since Her Majesty’s visit, and the golden statue of King William, and then she posted a short letter to Wilhelm telling him that they had arrived safely.

‘I like it here, Aunt Gianna!’ Jewel, more cheerful now that she was rested, skipped alongside Georgiana as they walked along the bustling Market Place which was crammed with canvas-covered stalls, and listened to the call of market traders as they competed with one another. ‘I could find my way in this town without getting lost. Not like in San Francisco. Papa wouldn’t let me go out on my own in case – in case – I got lost – Papa!’ she suddenly cried and, clinging to Georgiana’s hand, started to weep with great racking sobs and copious tears. ‘Papa! Where are you? Papa!’