Never Look Back (85 page)

‘It’s not that rowdy in the saloon these days,’ she said with a sigh. This year there had been financial panic in the city, for the gold had finally run out. Up in the mountains whole towns were deserted, machinery, picks and shovels left to rot where they were dropped. Here in the city, scores of shops, restaurants, saloons and gambling places lay empty, and hundreds of people were thrown out of work. Every day saw more people leaving to return home to take up farming or work in factories. London Lil’s was surviving only because it was so well known and she had the cash reserves to keep it going until better times came.

James had suggested she sold up and moved away too. But she had a gut feeling this was where she belonged. Maybe when she returned from Oregon with Amelia she would put her energies into something new, but she couldn’t even think that far ahead right now, not when she knew James couldn’t be part of that new life.

Perhaps he sensed she was a little pensive, for he suggested going up for a walk on the hills. Matilda agreed readily, she didn’t want sad thoughts dominating the precious time they had left together.

She was out of breath when they got to the top of the hill and she stopped to look at the view of the city. She remembered when she first came up here in ‘49 there had been only a cluster of permanent buildings hugging the waterfront, now the city
spread right around the bay. Gone were the wood and canvas buildings she remembered being so much part of the scene in the early years, new regulations meant all building work had to be made of brick. She could barely recall now just how desperate it had been before the streets were planked, or a real sewage system laid. Now there were even gas lights in some places, and a horse-drawn omnibus service.

There were now dozens of churches, all well attended, schools, a real prison instead of the old hulk anchored out in the bay she distantly remembered, yet it was still a wild, lawless place. She supposed it always would be with its volatile brew of diverse nationalities and cultures, and now that the gold had gone, many of the more desperate, villainous element who had no money to leave the city would find new ways to make a living here. She suspected that even if they brought in a strong police force, however many sober-minded people tried to stop the gambling, vice and corruption, built churches, schools and middle-class homes, it would never quite lose its unique and colourful character. She hoped not, for that was what she loved about it.

‘Did I ever tell you that it was something you said that made me come here in the first place?’ she said thoughtfully.

‘Me!’

‘Yes, you were talking about the rumour that there was gold in California and you said the smart people wouldn’t go searching for it but make their money from supplying those who did with whatever they needed.’

‘I always was a smart arse,’ he grinned.

‘You were, weren’t you?’ she laughed. ‘Remember that day you said you knew I was carrying a child? I was so mad with you.’

‘It was you getting so uppity which made me love you,’ he said. ‘If only I’d been braver and told you how I felt, maybe our lives would have turned out very differently.’

‘I wasn’t ready for love then,’ she said ruefully.

He was silent for a moment, standing with his arms around her waist looking out to sea. ‘There had to be a purpose for us finding one another again hundreds of miles away from where we last parted,’ he said at length. ‘Surely it wasn’t just chance?’

‘I’d like to think so, but from what I’ve seen, there is no sense or reason in fate,’ she said. ‘Look at Giles and John! Giles hated
violence but he got shot. Poor John crushed by the timber he loved!’

‘Maybe that was all part of the plan, terrible though it was,’ he said. ‘If not for Giles’s death we wouldn’t have met, and John’s was responsible for guiding us to meet again. But I’ve no intention of leaving everything to fate, what we have is too precious for that. There is divorce, there is life without the army.’

While divorce was growing very common in California, Matilda wasn’t so sure it was as easy in other states. Nor was she convinced a gentleman from one of the best families in Virginia, a graduate of West Point, could turn his back on everything he’d been brought up to believe in. She turned to kiss him. ‘Don’t be too hasty, James, you love the army, so don’t throw that away carelessly. Give it more time.’

His head slumped down on to her shoulder. ‘Time will only make it worse. I can’t bear Evelyn,’ he whispered. ‘I know perhaps that’s not a very gallant thing to say about the woman I vowed to love and cherish, but I have to tell you, Matty, it’s important that you know.

‘Within days of our wedding I knew it was the worst mistake I’d ever made, she is so shallow, utterly self-centred, just another empty-headed Southern Belle. I caught her whipping her maid with my belt one evening, just because she didn’t like the way she’d arranged her hair. She would fly into a tantrum if her bath was too hot or too cold, I couldn’t even see that she was pretty any more the way I once did, just the sound of her voice grated on my ears. You can’t imagine what hell it is to have to live with someone you feel that way about. I felt like I’d been shut into a prison. But while I didn’t know where you were, I could try to live with Evelyn. Once I met you again, it became impossible.’

This was the first time he’d spoken so openly about her, and it shocked Matilda to think he’d kept all this bottled up within him for so long out of loyalty.

‘Don’t, James,’ she whispered, holding him tightly. ‘You mustn’t say such terrible things about her.’

He lifted his head and caught hold of her two elbows, his eyes so hard and desperate. ‘I should have known better, Matty, because I knew what real love was like. I loved Belle with my whole heart, and I thought I would die too when she did. I got a second chance when I met you, all the feelings were the same,
but like a fool I let you slip away, perhaps because I was afraid that you’d reject me.

‘When I met Evelyn I was never taken with her as I was you or Belle, but she set her cap at me, and I’m ashamed to admit that I went along with it just because she was the Colonel’s daughter. We didn’t even have a real courtship, Matty, I saw her only when I was home on leave, at dinner parties and dances. In between these times I was out on the plains with my men, and I fooled myself into believing I loved her because of who she was and what it would do for my career.’

‘I don’t believe you were as cold-blooded as that, James,’ she said. ‘You did what any sensible man would do, picked a wife who had all the right credentials. If you hadn’t met up with me again it would probably have worked out fine. Few people marry for love, they have children together and they learn to rub along.’

‘I don’t think I can ever rub along with her,’ he said wearily.

‘You’ve got to try to,’ she said. ‘Other men do, they bury themselves in their work. You are fortunate that yours will take you away a great deal.’

‘Let’s hope it will always bring me to you.’

Matilda bit back tears. She wanted so much more than stolen moments. She wanted him with her every day, to have his children, to love and be loved openly without shame or deceit. Her business was no longer important to her, she would gladly wash his shirts in a stream and cook over an open fire. But she couldn’t tell him that now, for he might throw away his career and lose everything. She had to keep him stable, love and cherish him so he could keep his faith in his ideals. It was the only way.

Instead she held him and kissed him until he lowered her down on the grass and made love to her. As he thrust himself into her with the skirts of her dress billowing around them in the breeze she was reminded of couples she’d seen as a girl in London parks. She had always imagined the women were whores, but perhaps they were just women like her, blotting out reality for a few brief moments.

The next morning as Matilda stood on the deck of the steamer waving goodbye to Sidney on the wharf, tears trickled down her cheeks. James had left at first light after a whole night of love-making. They had drunk wine with their supper, gone down to
the saloon and drunk champagne as they watched the show, for once they didn’t care who saw them together. Henry Slocum had joined them later, and Matilda had danced with both men as recklessly as she had the night of Zandra’s funeral. Then later James had taken her back upstairs, undressed her, unpinned her hair, and loved her with such fury she lost all sense of time and place.

But she had to think of the future now, and face that James might never be part of it. She had the holiday with Cissie and the children to look forward to, and all the excitement of bringing Amelia back with her. Last night Henry had suggested the houses being built at South Park would be ideal for her, it was a fashionable area, close to the best school, and above all a safe place to bring up a child. Maybe she’d even sell her share in London Lil’s, stay home and be a full-time mother.

‘Mama, Mama!’ Amelia shrieked, breaking free from Cissie’s restraining hand and running towards her mother as she came down the gangplank of the ferry to Oregon City.

Matilda dropped her valise and scooped her up into her arms, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. ‘My darling,’ she murmured as she showered kisses on her little face. ‘It’s so good to see you!’

‘Why are you crying?’ Amelia asked, her plump fingers wiping away the tears on her mother’s face. ‘Aunt Cissie said you’d be very happy to see how big I’ve grown.’

‘So I am,’ Matilda replied. ‘I’m the happiest lady in the whole world.’

Cissie, Susanna and Peter all rushed to hug her too, all of them talking at once. Cissie was trying to tell her she and Arnold had set their wedding for next month, Peter asking about Sidney, Susanna demanding that she admired her new dress and Amelia shouting out that they had made a special cake for her, and that Tabitha would be coming to see her later.

‘One at a time,’ Matilda exclaimed, laughing as she put Amelia down so she could hug and kiss each one of them in turn. ‘We’ve got lots of time.’

It was a warm, sunny afternoon, and as they walked home, the two little girls each holding her hands, Peter and Cissie carrying the valise between them, Matilda felt the tingly glow
of anticipation she always experienced on visits here. This evening and all tomorrow it would be mayhem, each one of the family bombarding her with their most important news, and each one vying for her undivided attention. But slowly, as they got used to her being there again, it would quieten down, and bit by bit, she would piece together the progress each of the children had made, and hear from Cissie all the funny stories, the local gossip, the triumphs and disasters. Then the best times would come, the serenity of being one with them again, to be able to relax, listen and observe. To feel like a real mother again as she hung out washing, prepared vegetables for dinner, and played with the children. Time to renew her friendship with Cissie, to talk about all those ordinary things old friends needed to share. To love and be loved.

She glanced down at Amelia, and smiled with pure delight. At first glance she didn’t resemble either her or Giles. Her hair was dark and curly like Giles’s, but her eyes a very dark blue, and her skin prone to freckles. Yet she had her mother’s determined chin and she was a very pretty little girl. At only six and a half it was too soon to know if she was going to be as smart as Tabitha, she certainly didn’t have the same serious nature – as she skipped along beside her she was singing a little song, and each time she saw someone she knew she called out to inform them her mama had come home.

Susanna was a smaller replica of Cissie. Identical dark curly hair, and the same wide mouth. But she had John’s blue eyes and his quiet, diligent nature, never happier than when she was making something with her hands, be it pastry, sewing dolls’ dresses or drawing, the sort of child adults admired and other children trusted.

It was hardly surprising that no one had ever guessed twelve-year-old Peter wasn’t John’s real son because he’d grown quite like him. He had brown eyes, but the dark hair he’d had as a baby had lightened to a pale sandy brown. He also had the same stalwart look. Yet he had Cissie’s fire – in several letters this year she had reported that he got into fights at school, led other boys into mischief, tore his clothes climbing trees and was always missing when she needed him. But there was always a touch of pride in her words, she was glad he was a real boy. Sometimes when Matilda looked at Peter she felt almost jealous he belonged
to Cissie. She loved Susanna too but she didn’t have the fierce feeling about her. She supposed it was only because Peter was the lynch-pin from the past, all tied up with the memories of Giles and New York, almost like the foundation stone of their family.

‘You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve been saying!’

Matilda was so engrossed in her thoughts and looking at the children that Cissie’s indignant remark startled her. ‘I’m sorry, Cissie,’ she said. ‘I was too busy admiring our brood. What did you say?’

‘That I got the house painted, look, isn’t it smart?’

Matilda looked ahead and gasped in surprise. Every time she came home to Oregon she found herself amazed at how the city had grown, how much cleaner and prettier it was than San Francisco, and at the pride the residents took in their homes and businesses. But Cissie’s rather drab little house now stood out as the smartest in the row. Not only had the clapboard been painted white, and the front door dark green, but the narrow strip of ground in front of it had been enclosed by a small picket fence and a few shrubs had been planted.

‘It looks as elegant as you, Cissie,’ she said with a smile, for her friend was wearing a fashionable green sateen gown with cream ruffles at the neck. She wouldn’t have looked out of place in one of the big eastern cities. ‘Now, what brought that on? Could it have anything to do with you about to become Mrs Bigglesworth?’

Cissie giggled. ‘Arnold built the fence himself. I think he wanted to prove he was as good as John. Once he’d painted it white it showed the house up, so I got a man to do it. I keep making excuses to go out, just so I can admire it.’