Suki, p.45
Suki, page 45
‘Captain Jack,’ she told him. ‘He’s the one I want.’
‘Then you’m come to the wrong ship,’ he said. ‘There’s no one a’ that name aboard the Bonny Beaufoy. Our captain’s Mr Tomson which is him down on the quay. There’s no Captain Jack.’
‘There must be,’ she insisted, ‘for this here’s the ship he sailed on. I have it on good authority. Captain Jack.’
‘Do she mean Mr Jerome?’ another sailor asked, coming up to join his shipmate. ‘His name’s Jack. An’ he were master of the prize ship on her way home, so he’rn a captain of sorts. What do ’ee look like, this Captain Jack of yourn?’
She told them happily. ‘Taller than either one of you, an’ a deal taller than me, with broad shoulders an’ long legs an’ a swaggerin’ way of walking. Wears his own hair, thick hair, dark brown like his eyes. White teeth, all lovely an’ even. Strong hands…’
‘That ain’t Jack Jerome,’ the second sailor said interrupting her before she could descend into further raptures. ‘Except for the swaggerin’. He’m a stocky sort a’ fellow with no hair to speak of, brown or otherwise, bein’ his head’s a-shaven.’
‘He must be here,’ she said, insisting because she w’as beginning to feel desperate. ‘Captain Jack. You must know him.’
But they turned back to their work. ’Twas a wench in pursuit of a lost lover and not worth the waste of breath.
Suki hoisted William into a more comfortable position on her hip and thought hard. He had to be here somewhere. Those men were fools not to know of him, when this was the ship he’d sailed on. She wouldn’t give up at the first hurdle. She’d ask one of the others. There were enough of them about and one of them was bound to know.
None did, although she tried more than a dozen. The answer was always the same. There’d been no Captain Jack aboard any of the three vessels, except for Mr Jerome, who turned up as she was questioning a surly fellow with a gold earring, and certainly wasn’t her Jack.
‘I’ll not be beat,’ she said to William, as she set him down on the cobbles and let him walk. ‘We’ll go back to the shipping office, my ’andsome, that’s what we’ll do, and see if they got a list of the crew.’ She should have thought of that in the first place, if she’d not been so quick to get to the ship. They would know.
‘No, ma’am,’ the clerk told her. ‘Crews are took on by the masters. They’m the onny ones what knows names and so forth. You’ll have to ask the master. I can tell you who he is.’
‘I know who he is,’ she said drooping with disappointment. ‘I seen him on the quay. Mr Tomson.’
As she trailed out of the office, carrying William on her hip again, she couldn’t think what to do next. There were blank walls whichever way she turned and it was nearly time to meet Miss Ariadne. Oh what was amiss with all these foolish people? Why couldn’t they tell her what she wanted to know?
The little boy was still waiting patiently beside her baggage. Poor thing. She’d forgotten all about him and he’d waited all this time. So as she couldn’t think of anything else to do, she strolled across to read his paper for him and calm her irritation by a good deed.
He jumped to his feet as soon as he saw her, smiling broadly and holding the paper out. ‘You read for me now?’
‘Yes,’ she said, and read. ‘You are to go to the Llandoger Trow and ask there for Quin Cutpurse.’ The impact of the name made her heart leap. Well, here’s a thing! Quin Cutpurse. The very man I should have looked for in the first place and here’s this boy been a-sittin’ here all this time knowin’ where he is. Quin Cutpurse. She had a sudden vivid memory of him: strolling through the Spring Gardens with Jack beside him, laughing together; sprawled before her in that dreadful brothel; scolding her for daring to address him by name, with his commanding voice and his swarthy face and that black eye patch of his. What’s this child doin’ a-looking for him? ‘Do you know the gentleman?’
‘No, ma’am,’ the boy said. ‘My master, he say to find him. Where I go? You show me?’
Let anyone try to stop her.
She handed him the bag and set off at a great pace. Quin Cutpurse! What luck! Neither she nor Blue were aware that the gentleman in the brown bob wig was following at their heels.
The Llandoger Trow was crowded and there was so much tobacco smoke in the air that it was impossible to see from one end of it to the other. It gathered in dense clouds under the beams, fogged the leaded windows and ribboned about the potboys as they struggled between the tables delivering full tankards and retrieving empty ones. There was no sign of the eye patch but there were plenty of people to ask and most of them cheerful with ale. She took her question to the barman, but was careful not to ask it until she’d sweetened him with custom by ordering a pint of good ale for herself and a platter of cold meats for the boy.
‘Quin,’ he said, when she’d read him the note. ‘You just missed him. He been in an’ out these last three days. Him and his mates. Waitin’ for something I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘This boy’s got a message for him,’ she explained. ‘He been told to wait here.’
‘Ah well,’ the barman said, turning to another customer, ‘that accounts. Yes, sir, what can I do for ’ee?’
She waited until the newcomer had been sewed, noticing idly that it was the gentleman in the brown bob wig she’d seen on the quay, then she pressed on. ‘You don’t happen to have seen Captain Jack anywhere’s about?’
‘I wish I had,’ the barman said, frowning. ‘He got two shillin’ on the slate he owe me. No, I haven’t seen un for months. Went to sea, so they say.’
Every road leads to a blank wall, Suki thought, and jumped as the bar clock struck three. ‘Oh, my dear life,’ she said to Blue. ‘Look at the time. My mistress will be on the quay and I’m not there to meet her.’ She led him to the corner of the room and sat him down at the end of one of the long trestle tables. ‘There’s your meat an’ there’s the rest of my ale to wash it down. You’m to sit here till Mr Cutpurse comes back. You understand? Which he’ll do in a while, I’m sure of it, if he’m a-waitin’ for something. I’ll try an’ get back to ’ee a bit later on, but don’t depend on’t.’ And with that she left him to vitals and vigil, picked up her baggage and strode off to the quay again.
Ariadne was waiting by the shipping office, looking very grand in a blue silk travelling gown with a stomacher embroidered in pink and gold and a flat bonnet trimmed to match. ‘La,’ she said, as Suki came panting up to greet her. ‘I thought you had missed me. Have ’ee dined? There’s a chop house nearby — serves a tolerable meal, I’m told. We’ve an hour to spare before the coach to Bath. I’ve so much to tell ’ee.’
It was actually an intolerable meal, for the chops were burnt and the ale flat, but as they were both too excited and preoccupied to do more than pick at their food, its lack of quality went unremarked.
‘We are to be in Bath for seven days,’ Ariadne reported, ‘which is little time for all that has to be done. Papa has taken a house in Queen Square. South Parade ain’t grand enough for us now that we have a bride in the family. ’Tis all for the bride. Much good may it do her. She grows more insufferable by the hour. But to return to the matter in hand. You must go the milliner’s first thing tomorrow morning, for I mean to have two gowns made up to the most particular specification, the most particular, and it must all be done in secret with none to know of it save thee and me.’
‘None will, I give ’ee my word,’ Suki said, gazing at her chop and wondering whether she would have time to slip back to the Llandoger Trow before the coach came. If Mr Cutpurse really was waiting for something, he could be back at any time. He could be there now, this very minute. And if anyone would know where the Captain had got to, he was the man.
‘’Tis a matter of outwitting ’em.’ Ariadne explained. ‘If I’m to be shamed before the company, then I’ll be shamed in a martyr’s gown and let us see how Mamma will enjoy that. With luck ’twill shame her. Which is a consummation much to be desired. It must be a plain white cambric or a calico if ’tis available, nothing too heavy for I have to move, but perfectly plain and simple, such as a nun would wear.’
‘Yes,’ Suki said vaguely. William was asleep on her lap and with any luck would sleep for an hour as he usually did of an afternoon. She might just have time. ‘Have I got time to run a message afore we catches the coach? If I left William here with you, I could be there an’ back in two shakes. He’m sound asleep and he wouldn’t be a bit of bother. He could lie in my shawl on a couple of chairs. I wouldn’t ask ’ee only ’tis urgent. Jack’s come home. His ship put in this morning.’
‘And you’ve found him?’
‘No,’ Suki said sadly. ‘I asked at the quay but they all said they’d never heard of him, which is arrant nonsense. He must be somewheres about an’ there’s a man at the Llandoger Trow — or to speak true a man as might be at the Llandoger Trow — an’ if he is, he might know where he is. ’Tis all unsatisfactory, I know, but he’m the only chance I got.’
She’d expected instant agreement, even assistance, but Ariadne was frowning. ‘How if you miss the coach?’ she said. ‘’Tis only a matter of minutes before ’twill arrive and they will be expecting us to travel together. I said nothing of your visit to Twerton, you understand, and ’twould be unwise to provoke ’em.’
‘I’ll be uncommon speedy,’ Suki promised.
‘But what if you ain’t speedy enough?’ Ariadne said. ‘And what if this man of yours ain’t at the inn? You said he might be, did you not? If he ain’t there, ’twill be a wild goose chase and no good will come of it, no matter how speedy you are. We must use our wits and see what is best to be done. Your lover is returned, you say. You are sure on’t?’
‘I’m sure on’t.’
‘But you ain’t seen him, so he must have some matter that needs his urgent attention or he’d have sought ’ee out at once. Or else he’s dead at sea and none have told ’ee of it.’
‘No,’ Suki said stubbornly. ‘He ain’t dead. I’d have known if he had been. I’m quite sure of that.’
‘Then we must assume he’s alive and ashore,’ Ariadne went on, thinking. ‘Ashore and a man afoot, so he will need his horse, sooner or later. You left word he would find it at Twerton, did ’ee not?’
Suki had forgotten all about Beau. But of course, Jack would go to Twerton to find him. He might be on his way there this very afternoon. Why hadn’t she thought of it? And why hadn’t she thought to ask for him at the livery yard instead of trailing off to the inn? ‘Have I time to run across to the yard?’ she asked.
But the Bath stage was trundling to a halt before the chop house. They could see it from their seat in the window.
‘You must write to your farmer,’ Ariadne said, as Suki picked up her sleeping baby and gathered her belongings. ‘You must give him instructions, tell him the address of our lodgings in Bath and our address in Cavendish Square, and say he is to send Captain Jack to find you wherever you are. ’Tis the sensible thing to do and, besides, you ain’t got time for anything else.’
But he could be at the Llandoger Trow, Suki thought as she climbed aboard the stage. Or at the livery yard. And me a hundred yards away. ’Twas too thwarting for words. Anything could be happening and she wouldn’t know of it. Quin Cutpurse could be returned and he and Jack could be together. They’d always been boon companions. A pair of rogues both. Oh, if only she could have run across to find out instead of being rushed away like this. That was the trouble with the Bradburys. They were always in a rush and Ariadne was just the same as all the others. ’Twouldn’t have hurt her to let me run to the inn. I could have been there an’ back in two shakes.
‘’Twill turn out for the best, you’ll see,’ Ariadne said. ‘You couldn’t have missed the coach. Just think of the questions there would have been. We must tickle ’em like trout if we’re to succeed.’
But as Suki settled William across her knees, she was thinking of the black boy with the blue eyes. He could be talking to Quin Cutpurse at this very minute, she thought, instead of me. And the thought made her burn with impatience and frustration.
Blue was standing in a stinking alley alongside the Llandoger Trow, piddling against the wall. He’d sat in the inn for as long as he could, but Mr Cutpurse hadn’t turned up and the lady hadn’t come back and, finally, when most of the men around him had finished their ale and sloped out and there was only the man in the brown wig and a group of argumentative seamen left, his bladder was so uncomfortable that he stole out of the place to find somewhere to relieve himself.
A tall man in green breeches and a dirty black jacket positioned himself alongside. Blue shifted his feet as he refastened his breeches but the man hadn’t come to piddle. ‘You the young un with the message for Quin?’ he said, revealing a mouth full of broken teeth. And when Blue nodded, he winked and said, ‘Follow me.’
For a second, Blue thought he was going to be taken back to his seat by the bar but he was wrong. The tall man led him to a low door at the side of the building and up a narrow flight of stairs to a low-ceilinged chamber on the first floor. A man with a black eye patch was sitting by the fire with two rough-looking men beside him, all of them smoking clay pipes and deep in conversation.
‘Here’s your young un at last,’ the tall man said, pushing Blue forward. ‘Found un in the alley a-waterin’ the roses.’
‘You weren’t seen?’ Quin asked.
‘No fear. I’m sly.’
Quin held out his hand for Blue’s message and recognised the handwriting at once. ‘Why ’tis from Jack,’ he said, ‘an’ no news at all. ’Tis instructions to the savage and here’s us a-thinking ’twould be news of a good take.’
‘Then we goes for the weddin’ party,’ the tall man said. ‘And takes the stage tonight by way of rehearsal and for to pay the landlord. That’s my opinion of it.’
Quin turned to the man on his right. ‘Charlie?’
‘I’m with Spider. I votes for the stage.’
‘Johnny?’
‘I ain’t keen,’ the third man said. ‘Not with a thief-taker about.’
‘’Tis only Melluish,’ Quin said, drawing on his pipe. ‘An’ he’s a stick-in-the-mud. You’ve only to look at him to see that. Him and that old brown wig of his. He’d be hard put to it to catch a cold, leave alone a thief.’
‘He’m a stubborn man,’ Spider observed, picking his broken teeth with a broken fingernail. ‘He been a-sittin’ in that there corner all afternoon, awaitin’ for us. He’m a-sittin’ there still, I’d lay money on’t.’
‘Let him sit all he likes,’ Quin said, laughing. ‘He’d have to get up prodigious early to catch me. My vote’s for the stage. He’ll not trouble us.’
‘What a’ the savage?’ Charlie Moss wanted to know. ‘What’s to be done with him?’
Quin Cutpurse turned to Blue and held out the paper. ‘What’s your name, boy?’
‘Blue, sir.’
‘Well then, Blue, when did our Jack give this to ’ee?’
‘Aboard ship, sir.’
‘And now he’m took to London, accordin’ to Spider here. Gone to Bedlam, so he has. So what’s to be done with ’ee?’
‘Send un packing,’ Johnny said, spitting in the general direction of the spittoon and missing by inches. ‘We don’t want a savage along of us. ’Twould queer our pitch.’
‘We could sell him in London,’ Charlie Moss said. ‘There’s many a nibbing cull a-lurkin’ in the Seven Dials would give their lucre for a sharp lad. Pertickly one small enough ter slip in winders.’
‘What’s your opinion of it?’ Quin asked the boy.
‘An’t please you, sir, I find my master.’
Johnny snorted with laughter. ‘Much good may it do un if he’m in Bedlam.’
‘Let him find that out for himself,’ Quin said. ‘He can stay here till we rides to London an’ I say we takes him along. Let him sniff out the lie of the land. See how things stand, in this precious asylum of there’n. If Jack’s to be sprung, he’ll see how ’tis to be done.’
‘An’ if he ain’t?’ Charlie asked.
Quin rubbed his thumb against his middle finger to signify the exchange of cash. ‘Then we’ll have us a sale, eh Blue?’
Chapter 32
By the time Ariadne and Suki arrived at their new lodgings in Queen Square, Ariadne was totally speechless and Suki totally cast down. To be caught in Bath when she knew that Jack had to be somewhere in Bristol was so distressing it was all she could do not to weep. But she settled Ariadne into her room, carried William down into the kitchen, inspected the room set aside for his nursery and generally tried to behave in her usual way.
The place was full of servants, but luckily she didn’t know any of them, except for Mr Jessup, who was too grand to notice her, and Barnaby, who was too distracted, and Hepzibah, who was too busy lording it because she was lady’s maid to the bride and felt she should be given first attention over everything and everybody in the house in consequence.
‘I’d have thought you’d have been with that husband of yours,’ she sneered when she saw Suki. ‘Or ain’t he come home to ’ee yet?’
‘I got work to do here,’ Suki said, huffily. ‘I’ve a babba to feed in case you haven’t noticed. ’Twouldn’t do for all of us to be a-sitting in the kitchen stuffing our faces with sweetmeats all day.’
To her delight, Hepzie actually blushed. ‘I’m tasting ’em for the bride,’ she said, and carried the little dish out of the kitchen.
‘If she go on a-feedin’ her face the way she do,’ Cook said, ‘the bride’ll go off bang afore she gets to the altar. I never seen a gel eat so much.’ She glanced up at the bell board. ‘There’s your young lady a-ringing for you, Suki. You can leave the baby with Abigail.’
Ariadne was sitting at the writing desk in her room busily scratching an instruction for the milliner. She signalled to Suki that she was to shut the door and then whispered her orders.
‘This is to go to my old friend the milliner,’ she said. ‘When ’tis done, you shall write to your farmer and then you can take your letter to the post when you deliver mine. What are the others about?’
