The Ragged Heiress (12 page)

‘Wake up, Daisy.’

Someone was shaking her gently by the shoulders. Struggling for breath, Lucetta felt the waters release her body and she opened her eyes.

‘You were having a bad dream,’ Nurse Hastings said, raising her to a sitting position and piling pillows behind her back. ‘You’ll feel better when you’ve had something to eat. Can you feed yourself, or would you like me to help you?’

Lucetta clasped her hand to her chest. The dream had seemed so real. The cries of the desperate people rang in her ears and the taste of the filthy polluted water lingered on her lips. ‘What happened to me?’ she whispered. ‘Why am I here?’

Nurse Hastings held a spoonful of gruel to Lucetta’s lips. ‘You were shipwrecked, Daisy. The
Caroline
collided with a paddle steamer in thick fog. It was in all the newspapers. You were one of the lucky ones, but then you took sick with the typhoid and that’s why you were transferred here.’

Lucetta swallowed a mouthful of warm sweet gruel. ‘In my dream there was darkness and the water was cold.’

‘Do you remember your name?’

‘No. I wish I could, but I can’t.’ Shaking her head, Lucetta blinked back tears of weakness. ‘I don’t know who I am.’

Nurse Hastings fed her another spoonful of gruel. ‘You will, Daisy. It will all come back to you as you regain your strength. And there are two people very eager to see you.’

* * *

‘I don’t know you,’ Lucetta said, staring at the two rough-looking men who claimed to be her brothers. ‘I think you have the wrong girl.’

Stranks curled his lips in an ingratiating smile. ‘Come now, Lucy my duck, you must remember me. I’m Norman, your big brother what used to dandle you on his knee when you was a baby.’ He nudged Guthrie who was standing at the foot of the bed, clutching his cap in his hands. ‘As did you, Lennie. Ain’t that right?’

‘That’s it,’ Guthrie muttered. ‘We’re your brothers, Lucy.’

Lucetta stared at them trying in vain to place their faces. They looked vaguely familiar but surely she would have instantly recognised blood relations. She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you at all.’

Stranks laid a badly wrapped paper parcel on the end of the bed. ‘We brought you something to wear, ducks. You can’t come home in your nightgown.’

‘Come home?’ Lucetta said faintly. ‘I am not well enough to leave hospital, am I?’

She cast a pleading look at Nurse Hastings who was standing by her side with the protective attitude of a small but determined guard dog.

Nurse Hastings eyed Stranks and Guthrie with obvious distaste. ‘It’s not up to me, Daisy. I mean, Lucy. It’s for the doctor to say if you’re fit enough to leave our care.’

‘The young doc who’s been looking after you says you can home if there’s someone to look after you,’
Stranks said, shooting a look of pure malice at Nurse Hastings. ‘It ain’t up to you, nurse.’

‘I really don’t know you,’ Lucetta protested weakly. ‘I think there’s been some mistake.’

Nurse Hastings laid her hand on Lucetta’s arm. ‘Don’t upset yourself, my dear. I’ll go and speak to Dr Harcourt. He’ll sort this out.’ She marched off towards the office at the end of the ward.

‘Get dressed, girl,’ Stranks said gruffly. ‘We’re taking you home and that’s that.’

‘Hold hard there, Norm,’ Guthrie said in a low voice. ‘Don’t scare her. She’s been very sick.’

Lucetta warmed to Guthrie. He had the look of a shaggy old mongrel, but she was quick to hear a note of genuine concern in his voice. ‘I have been ill,’ she agreed. ‘And I’m still very weak. Perhaps I should stay here for a while longer.’

‘They need the bed for someone who’s really sick,’ Stranks said impatiently. ‘We’ll leave you to get dressed and then we’re taking you out of here, like it or not.’

‘C’mon, Norm,’ Guthrie muttered. ‘We’ll wait outside the ward until she’s ready.’

‘All right,’ Stranks said reluctantly. ‘But we’re not going without you, Lucy. If the doctor says you’re well enough then you’re coming with us.’

Lucetta lay back against the pillows and watched them leave with a sinking heart. Dr Harcourt had already told her that she was well enough to go home, providing he was satisfied that she would be well cared for. He was a nice young man, earnest and pleasant-looking if not exactly handsome. She had grown to
like him during the past week when she had been recuperating on the ward. She had discovered that not only had he several younger sisters but that he and Nurse Hastings were first cousins. It was obvious that they were fond of each other, but Lucetta suspected that Mary Hastings’ feelings went a little deeper than mere cousinly affection. Her cheeks would flush prettily if Dr Harcourt teased her, something he would only dare to do if Sister Demarest was otherwise occupied.

With her world shrunk to the size of the hospital ward, Lucetta wove fantasies around the young couple during the long nights when sleep evaded her. She imagined Mary dressed in her wedding finery, smiling happily on the arm of her new husband Dr Giles Harcourt. Closing her ears to the sighs and moans of the other women on the ward, Lucetta saw herself as a guest at the wedding, welcomed into the two families. She knew that it was only a dream, but escaping to her imaginary world was a comfort during the lonely hours of darkness. After almost a month, Lucetta had begun to feel quite at home on the ward. Her own identity continued to evade her and she was quite frankly terrified of leaving the security of the hospital, particularly if that meant accompanying the two uncouth strangers who claimed to be her next of kin. She lay rigid and frightened with the sheets pulled up to her chin as she kept her gaze fixed on the office door, waiting with bated breath for it to open.

She did not have to wait long, and the expression on Mary Hastings’ face confirmed her worst fear.

‘I’m sorry, Daisy, but Dr Harcourt thinks you are
quite well enough to go home with those two who claim to be your brothers.’

Lucetta snapped to a sitting position. ‘You don’t think they are related to me, do you?’

Mary turned away to draw the curtains around the bed. ‘It’s not for me to put ideas in your head, but I will say that I don’t see any family resemblance between you and them. They’re not your sort, if you know what I mean.’

‘I think I do, or rather I don’t feel as though they’re my blood relations.’ Lucetta clutched her forehead with both hands, squeezing her skull as if by doing so she could force her memory to return. ‘I can’t remember anything. I just can’t.’

‘There, there, Daisy. Don’t upset yourself. I’m sure it will come back in time.’

Lucetta shook her head, allowing her hands to fall to her sides. ‘I just don’t know, but it seems I have no choice but to go with them. Will you help me dress, please, Mary?’

Nurse Hastings turned away abruptly, clearing her throat. She snatched up the package and made an attempt to untie the string, but when the knots proved stubborn she tore at the greasy brown wrapping. ‘Well,’ she said, wrinkling her nose as she pulled out some grubby-looking undergarments and a blouse that might once have been white but was now yellowed with age and frayed at the cuffs, followed by a linsey-woolsey skirt that had also seen better days. ‘Looks like they bought this stuff from a stall in Petticoat Lane or a dolly shop in Hoxton.’

Lucetta fingered the coarse calico chemise and the odour of stale sweat emanating from the material made her feel sick. ‘This can’t be mine, Mary. I’m certain I’ve never worn such a garment in all my life. It doesn’t smell like me.’

‘Perhaps you’ll find something more suitable to wear when you get home,’ Mary said hopefully. ‘I expect they tried their best, but they’re only men, poor things.’

Despite an overwhelming feeling of foreboding, Lucetta allowed Mary to help her dress, but the stays appeared to have been made to fit a much larger person and had to be discarded. The chemise hung off her like a shroud, as did the blouse, and the skirt trailed on the floor, threatening to trip her each time she took a step. Mary begged some pins from Sister Demarest and spent a good ten minutes on her knees taking up the hem. ‘I’ll grant that you’ve lost weight since your illness,’ she said, clambering to her feet, ‘but you can’t have shrunk four inches in height. I think your brothers have got some explaining to do, Daisy.’

‘It’s simple,’ Stranks said, eyeing Nurse Hastings as if he could cheerfully throttle her. ‘Our sister’s clothes were all lost when the ship went down. We had a bit of a rush to find her something to wear, but our little Lucy will have nothing but the best when we get her settled at home.’ He hooked his arm around Lucetta’s waist. ‘Come along, ducks. Lennie’s gone to find a cab. We’ll have you home safe in no time at all.’

Fighting back tears, Lucetta turned to Mary who was standing side by side with Dr Harcourt. ‘Thank you
both for looking after me. I might have died but for your care.’

Giles Harcourt smiled, shaking his head. ‘You are made of stronger stuff than that, Daisy.’

‘She ain’t Daisy,’ Stranks said belligerently. ‘It’s Miss Guthrie to you. Miss Lucy Guthrie.’

Giles acknowledged this intervention with a stiff nod of his head. ‘I beg your pardon.’ He turned to Lucetta with a shy smile. ‘Goodbye, Lucy, and good luck.’

‘Here, what d’you mean by that, mate?’ Stranks demanded, pushing Lucetta aside and squaring up to the doctor. ‘Ain’t we good enough for your little Daisy?’

‘I meant no disrespect, sir.’

‘It’s just a manner of speaking, Mr Guthrie,’ Mary said hastily. ‘We always wish our patients the best of everything when they leave our care.’

Lucetta gave her an impetuous hug. Parting from Mary was physically painful. She had come to think of her as a friend. ‘Goodbye, Mary. I will miss you.’

‘Come and see me when you are settled,’ Mary said tearfully. ‘I stay in the nurses’ home when I’m on night duty, so I’m quite easy to find.’

Stranks caught Lucetta by the arm. ‘Come on, Lucy. I’m taking you home, girl.’

The cab ride seemed to last forever. Squashed in between Stranks and Guthrie, Lucetta could scarcely breathe. Their body odour mixed sickeningly with the foetid smell of the second-hand clothes that she had been forced to wear. Worse still, her skin had begun to itch and she suspected that the garments harboured fleas. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she demanded.

‘Shut your trap,’ Stranks muttered, staring straight ahead.

Lucetta turned to Guthrie, sensing a more sympathetic soul. ‘Who are you really? I’m sure I would remember you if you were my brother.’

‘I said shut up,’ Stranks roared before Guthrie had a chance to answer. ‘One more word from you and you’ll feel the back of my hand across your chops.’

Lucetta sank back against the leather squabs, her worst fears realised. Whoever these men were they could not be related to her. How they knew her, or what they wanted from her, was a mystery. She was trapped, helpless and terrified. Whatever they planned for her, she was certain that they were up to no good. She considered throwing herself from the moving vehicle, but she was wedged firmly between them and there was nothing she could do other than bide her
time. At least she had someone on her side. She knew that she had one friend in London, and when the opportunity arose she would escape and make her way back to the Fever Hospital and find Mary. She closed her eyes, blotting out the view of the busy streets as they flashed past the cab.

Lucetta awakened with a start as the cab came to an abrupt halt, and her hand flew to her mouth as the smell of the river almost choked her, conjuring up terrifying visions of darkness and panic. She could feel the cold waters of the Thames closing over her head. She couldn’t breathe. She was drowning. The memories of that dreadful night began to surface through the haze that had dulled her mind during her fever. ‘The ship,’ she cried. ‘It sank. People were drowning—’

Stranks clamped his hand over her mouth and he held her to his side, squeezing her until she could hardly breathe. ‘Stop that noise or I’ll break your neck.’

‘He means it, girl,’ Guthrie whispered. ‘Best do as he says.’

Stranks thrust some coins into Guthrie’s hand. ‘Pay the cabby.’

Lucetta struggled, but Stranks only tightened his hold. ‘One word from you and it’ll be your last.’ He waited until Guthrie had clambered down from the cab before lifting Lucetta bodily from the vehicle. ‘She’s been ill,’ he remarked conversationally to the cabby. ‘Poor girl had typhoid. Nasty disease, but she’s on the mend now. Let’s get you inside, ducks.’

Lucetta opened her mouth to cry for help but Stranks tossed her over his shoulder and suddenly her world
was upside down. The cobblestones swam before her eyes and she almost bumped her head on the top step as Stranks descended into the gloom of the foul-smelling area that led into the basement. Guthrie had gone on ahead and Lucetta heard the grating of a key in a lock followed by the groan of a door opening on rusty hinges. Her view of slime-encrusted stone steps and cracked flagstones gave way to dusty wooden floorboards speckled with mouse droppings and empty carapaces of dead cockroaches. ‘Put me down,’ she demanded, beating her fists against the back of Stranks’ legs.

He dropped her unceremoniously onto a pile of filthy sacks. ‘Lock the door, Lennie, and give me the key. We don’t want our little investment to wander off and get lost in the wicked city.’

Guthrie did as he was told, handing the key to Stranks with a deprecating grin. ‘We done it, Norm. We got our pot of gold.’

‘Not quite,’ Stranks said, slipping the key into his pocket. ‘We got to convince her family that she’s alive and well and worth the ransom money.’

Lucetta made a vain attempt to get to her feet but the room spun dizzily around her and she sank back onto the sacks. She clutched her hands to her forehead as the cries of drowning people filled her ears. ‘The ship was in a collision – I remember it now. The smell of the river brought it all back to me. I must find Mama and Papa. Were they rescued too? You must take me to them. They will pay you for your trouble.’

‘Mama and Papa.’ Stranks mimicked her girlish
voice. ‘They’re dead and gone, ducks. You’re an orphan, but you’re a rich one. We should get a lot of money for you.’