Читать книгу Nettie’s Secret - Dilly Court, Dilly Court - Страница 8

‘Nettie, are you going to allow these three idiots to dictate to you?’ Robert edged past Byron and Ted, but Pip folded his arms across his chest and refused to move from the doorway.

‘Stop this, all of you, and that includes you, Pa.’ Nettie reached for her cape and wrapped it around her shoulders. ‘I appreciate your concern, but I intend to see this through. I love my father and I’ll stand by him, no matter what trouble he’s in. I care for all of you, but I know what I must do, so I’m asking you to let us leave without causing a fuss.’

Byron and Ted exchanged weary glances and Pip moved away from the door.

‘Do you know what you’re letting yourself in for, Nettie?’ Byron asked in a low voice. ‘You’ll be in a foreign country, unable to speak the language, trying to eke out an existence on what your father can get for his paintings. If he can’t earn his living honestly in London, how do you think you’ll manage abroad?’

‘I’ve had enough of this,’ Robert said impatiently. ‘Don’t listen to them, Nettie. I’m going to buy our tickets and I want you to take the luggage and wait for me on the platform. Our train will be in soon.’ Robert swept past Byron and Ted, elbowing Pip out of the way as he left the waiting room.

Nettie faced them with a tremulous smile. ‘Don’t think I’m not grateful, but you must see that I have no choice. I’ve been looking after Pa since I was a child, and he needs me even more now.’

‘He’s using you, Nettie,’ Byron said urgently.

‘Maybe, but that doesn’t alter the fact that he’s my father and I have to stand by him.’

‘If you say so.’ Ted gave her a hug. ‘But I’ll miss you, Nettie. Who’s going to listen to me when I get so miserable that I feel like crying?’

‘You’ll get over her in time.’ Nettie returned the embrace. ‘You deserve someone much nicer than Pearl. I won’t forget you, Ted.’

‘We’ll all miss you.’ Pip managed a smile. ‘Look after yourself, Nettie.’ He picked up Robert’s luggage and took it out onto the platform, leaving Nettie and Byron facing each other.

‘I suppose nothing I say will make you change your mind?’

‘Don’t make this even harder than it is, Byron.’

He brushed her cheek with a kiss and turned away. ‘I’ll go now. I hate goodbyes. Take care of yourself, Nettie.’

She followed him out of the waiting room and watched him stride away, passing Robert, who was returning with the tickets clutched in his hand. He waved to Nettie.

‘Our train leaves in five minutes. We’d better hurry.’

It was still early morning when they arrived in Dover, and after making enquiries, Robert announced that the next ferry was due to sail at midday. This gave them time to have breakfast in a hotel close to the harbour and to rest before the crossing. Nettie sat on the terrace enjoying the warm spring sunshine with only a slight breeze to ruffle the feathery tops of the pampas grass that towered over the neatly kept flowerbeds. The air was so fresh and clean after the soot and smoke of the city, and the scent of spring flowers was sharpened by a salty tang from the sea. Nettie would have been happy to remain here all day, but she had to face the fact that they would be leaving soon and might never return. It was a disturbing thought. She sat back and closed her eyes – the sound of birdsong and the mewling of seagulls was a pleasant change from the clatter of boots on cobbled streets and the rumble of cartwheels, the shouts of costermongers and the porters bellowing at each other in Covent Garden as they went about their work. She was slipping into a deep sleep when she was awakened by someone shaking her shoulder.

‘Is it time to leave, Pa?’ she asked sleepily.

‘It’s me, Nettie.’

She opened her eyes and sat up straight. ‘Byron. What are you doing here?’

He pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘You don’t mean it.’

‘Yes, I do. I hate my job at the law firm. It’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life, and I don’t trust Mr Carroll to take proper care of you.’

‘But I don’t know where we’re going, or how we’ll live.’

‘All the more reason for coming with you. I’m strong and I can earn money doing manual labour, if necessary. I won’t allow your father to drag you into poverty, and I’ve always wanted to travel, so this is a good opportunity. Besides which, there’s something you don’t know about me.’

Nettie gazed at him in amazement. ‘What is it, Byron?’

‘My mother was French. She left home when I was very young and I never saw her again, but my first language was French.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’

‘It didn’t seem important. When I was younger I tried not to think about the mother who’d deserted me, but recently I’ve been considering going to France to look for my French relations. I even have a passport.’

Nettie gazed at him, too stunned to put her thoughts into words. ‘That’s so strange, but how did you know we were here?’

‘The cabby who picked me up at the railway station had taken a fare to this hotel, and when he described the pretty, dark-haired young lady and a much older man, I knew it must be you – or at least I hoped it was – and I was right. Here I am and here I stay. I’ve paid for my passage and I’m ready to go.’

‘I don’t know what Pa will say about this, Byron.’

‘There’s not much he can do about it. I’m free to do as I like, and I intend to travel to France.’ He hailed a passing waiter. ‘A pot of coffee, if you please, and some bread and cheese. I didn’t have time for breakfast.’

Nettie waited until the food arrived. ‘I think my father is in the hotel lounge. I’m going to tell him you’re here, Byron. If he comes upon us together he’ll be angry and the last thing we need is a scene. If the cabby remembers dropping us off here it won’t be hard for the police to trace us and, if Pendleton talks, I don’t think it will take them long to associate Pa with the forgeries.’

Byron had just bitten off a chunk of bread and cheese and he nodded wordlessly. Nettie would have gone anyway, regardless of anything that he might have said. The main thing was to keep her father behaving in a manner that would not draw attention to them, which was difficult for someone who loved being the centre of attention.

It was sad to stand on deck watching the white cliffs fade into the distance, but in some ways it was also a relief, and Nettie began to relax. Her father had been angry at first, but he had been quick to admit that having Byron with them might prove advantageous. Nettie did not enquire further, but she suspected that her father would happily devote himself to his art, leaving Byron and herself to support him.

‘A penny for them?’ Byron appeared at her side.

‘I was just thinking that we’ve done it now. We’re on our way to goodness knows where. It’s not the first time I’ve been homeless, but at least everyone at home speaks English.’

‘Then it’s just as well I decided to join you.’ Byron leaned on the railings, staring at the rapidly disappearing shoreline. ‘I’ll translate for you.’

‘Tell me about your mother. How did your parents meet?’

‘Father was a medical student, and he went to Paris to attend a series of lectures. He was out one evening with friends and they saw a man beating a young girl. They intervened and took her back to her lodgings in a poor quarter, but Father was concerned for her welfare and he returned next day to make sure she was all right.’

‘And they fell in love at first sight. How romantic,’ Nettie sighed and closed her eyes. ‘It sounds like a fairy tale.’ She could see it all in her imagination; it would make a wonderful start to her next story.

‘Not really. It didn’t have a happy ending,’ Byron said with a wry smile. ‘I was only four when my mother left home. I remember her putting me to bed one night, and I can still smell her perfume when she kissed me and told me to be a good boy. She was gone next morning and I never understood why she had deserted me.’

Nettie reached out to lay her hand on his. ‘Byron, that’s so sad. It’s amazing that you still remember how to speak her native tongue.’

‘We always spoke in French together, and when I went to school I told my teacher that I wanted to learn the language. She loaned me the books and I studied French on my own. It made me feel closer to Maman.’

‘How brave of you, Byron. It must have been such a difficult time.’

‘I don’t think my father ever really got over it. He never remarried and he devoted himself to his patients in one of the poorest parts of the East End.’

‘He sounds like a very good man.’

‘He was, but he passed away five years ago. I think he died of exhaustion, because he gave so much to others.’

Nettie slipped her arm around his shoulders. ‘I am so sorry, Byron. I wish I could have known him.’

‘It’s all in the past, but you can understand why I have no ties in London, which leaves me free to accompany you and see that you’re kept safe.’

‘And you might find your mother’s family.’

‘Yes. I doubt if I’ll ever see my mother again, but I’d like to learn more about her and why she left us like she did.’ He glanced up at the darkening sky. ‘Let’s go to the saloon. I’m hungry and a cup of coffee wouldn’t go amiss.’

‘I expect Pa’s there already. He’ll probably have found an audience to impress with his tales of his life as an important artist. He likes to tell people that he’s been all over the world, although, in fact, he’s never been any further south than Dover.’

‘Let’s hope there aren’t any off-duty policemen on board,’ Byron said, chuckling.

As Nettie had predicted, they found Robert seated at a table in the saloon, surrounded by an admiring audience.

‘Nettie, my dear. Come and sit down. You, too, Byron. I want you to meet my new friends. I’ve been telling them of our plans to take Paris by storm. I intend to have an exhibition of my latest works somewhere in Montmartre. I haven’t decided the exact location as yet, but I hope you will all come.’

Nettie sat down beside him. ‘Pa, we need to have a serious talk.’

‘I fear that I’m in trouble, ladies and gentlemen,’ Robert said, smiling. ‘As you see I am under petticoat government. I submit, Nettie. What have you to say?’

Nettie felt the blood rush to her cheeks, but the onlookers rose to their feet and shuffled off to their respective tables. ‘Pa, how could you?’ she whispered. ‘That was very embarrassing.’

‘You simply don’t know how to enjoy yourself, my love.’ Robert raised his glass and sipped the wine. ‘What did you wish to discuss?’

Byron took a seat beside Nettie. ‘We’ll be in Calais soon, sir. Have you any plans from there?’

‘We will go where the wind takes us,’ Robert said airily. ‘We’re free now, my boy. Free from the restraints of living in London, and we can live as we please.’

Nettie stared pointedly at her father’s empty wine glass. ‘How many of those have you had, Pa?’

‘Not enough, my darling.’ Robert leaned towards Byron, grinning tipsily. ‘Get me another, dear boy. My throat is dry.’

‘No, Pa,’ Nettie said firmly. ‘This isn’t a holiday. We’re on the run,’ she added, lowering her voice. ‘We need a plan.’

‘I can’t be bothered with details like that. I’ll set up a studio somewhere and make a good living. The French appreciate art.’ Robert leaned back against the padded seat. ‘Wake me up when we get there.’ He closed his eyes and his head lolled to one side.

‘He’s drunk,’ Nettie said crossly. ‘Would you believe it, Byron?’

‘Did you expect anything else? You ought to be used to your father’s ways by now, Nettie.’

‘I suppose so, but I keep hoping that one day he’ll stop acting like a ten-year-old and take some responsibility for his actions. Who knows what sort of bother he’d get into if I deserted him?’

Byron gave her a long look. ‘Your father wants to stay the night in Calais, although if it were left to me I’d suggest we went on to Paris. It would be easier to lose ourselves in the crowded city street, but we need to make a plan and we can’t do that until your father sobers up.’

‘Will you stay with him while I get some fresh air?’ Nettie rose to her feet. ‘It’s so stuffy in here.’

‘You mustn’t worry, Nettie. We’ll sort something out.’

She flashed him a grateful smile as she left the saloon and went out on deck. The wind whipped around her, dragging strands of hair from beneath her bonnet and tugging at her skirt. The sea was choppy and the paddle steamer ploughed through the waves, churning up the water and sending plumes of spray into the air, drenching the unwary. People hurried for the shelter of the saloon or down the companionway to the lower deck where cabins were available for those who could afford to pay extra. Nettie staggered as the vessel pitched and she collided with someone who had come up behind her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said breathlessly as she attempted to stand unaided, but the ship yawed and she would have fallen if he had not grasped her firmly.

‘Well, then. I didn’t expect to find you here, Miss Carroll. Least of all being thrown into my arms.’

Nettie reached out and grabbed the ship’s rail. ‘Duke!’

‘Hush! Not so loud, Nettie, my dear. I’m incognito for reasons that you will appreciate.’

‘You’re on the run from the police and so is my pa, thanks to you.’

‘Now, now, that’s not fair. I didn’t force Robert to work for me. He was eager to earn money and I put him in the way of several decent commissions. I was informed on by a man who has a personal grudge against me and will stop at nothing until he sees me ruined.’

‘What you did was illegal,’ Nettie countered. ‘You used my father’s talents to make money for yourself.’

‘That, my dear, is business.’ He eyed her curiously. ‘What I don’t understand is why you chose to accompany him. Haven’t you any relations who would take you in and look after you?’

‘I’m not a child, Duke.’

‘Quite.’ He shrugged and turned away. ‘Well, good luck. That’s all I can say.’ He turned back to give her a quizzical smile. ‘But what will you do when the money runs out? Will you beg on the streets or sell yourself in order to keep your feckless father in comfort?’

‘Neither,’ Nettie said angrily. ‘We’ll find a way.’

He hesitated, frowning. ‘I suppose I do bear some responsibility for what has happened to you, although it pains me to say so. I must be getting soft in my old age.’

Suddenly curious, Nettie gave him a searching look. ‘You can’t be more than thirty-five.’

‘As a matter of fact, I’m thirty-four. Riotous living must be starting to mar my good looks.’ He put his hand in his breast pocket and took out a silver card case. He flicked it open and produced a gilt-edged visiting card. ‘This is the one I use when in Paris. You will see that I go by the name Gaillard when in France. I have many identities, Nettie, but if you are in trouble you can find me at this address. I might even have work for your father, if he’s so minded.’ Duke walked away, adapting to the movement of the ship as if he had spent his life at sea.

Nettie tossed the card overboard, but the wind caught it and deposited it at her feet. Despite her misgivings, she bent down, picked it up and tucked it in her reticule. Duke Dexter was on the run just the same as they were, but Marc Gaillard, the Parisian art dealer, might be useful, if they were desperate.

She felt a sudden change in the tone of the ship’s engine and she caught sight of land. She hurried back to the saloon to tell her father and Byron that they were nearing Calais, but she would keep Duke’s presence on board a secret.

Robert had changed his mind about staying the night in Calais, or perhaps Byron had changed it for him, but in the end they took the train to Paris. It was an uneventful and reasonably comfortable journey, and when they reached their destination Robert insisted on hiring a fiacre to take them to Montmartre, where he was convinced he would meet like-minded people and his talent would be recognised. He seemed to be happy to sit back and allow Byron to do all the talking, and Nettie was quietly impressed by her friend’s fluent French as he told the cab driver where they wanted to go. They were dropped off in a quiet backstreet close to a small square filled with flower stalls, fruit sellers and cafés where people sat at small tables in the shade of trees, which were bursting into leaf.

Byron paid the driver. ‘He says we can get cheap lodgings here,’ he said as the fiacre pulled away from the kerb.

Robert held out his arms, smiling as he took deep breaths of the air scented with French tobacco, wine and garlic, which barely masked the smell of drains and overflowing privies.

‘I am in my spiritual home,’ he said gleefully. ‘It is here, in Paris, that I will do my best work. I was duped by Duke Dexter, but now I am free from his demands, and I will start afresh.’

Nettie said nothing, but the cab had driven along the street named on Duke’s visiting card and she was uneasy. The last thing she wanted was for her father to get involved with the man who had led him into crime in the first place. It would be all too easy for him to go that way again when their money ran out, but she decided to talk it over with Byron at the first opportunity. Their most pressing need was for somewhere to stay, and Byron was making enquiries at the door of a house with a sign in the window advertising vacancies.

‘Byron is a handy chap to have around,’ Robert said grudgingly. ‘I wouldn’t have chosen him as a travelling companion, but he’s proving useful.’

‘We would be in a pickle without him, Pa. I can’t speak a word of French, and neither can you.’

‘I know how to communicate with people, Nettie. But we’ll put up with him for a while and then he can go on his way. I don’t want you getting too close to a fellow who has little or no prospects.’

Nettie stared at him, speechless. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind Pa that he was the fugitive from justice and Byron was here to help them, but she knew it would be futile. Once her father had an idea in his head it was almost impossible to make him see reason.

‘She has two rooms,’ Byron said as he hurried back to them. ‘They’re in the attic, but she says there’s another couple who are interested so we have to give her an answer right away.’

‘The woman is probably bluffing.’ Robert was about to walk away when Nettie caught him by the sleeve.

‘It’s getting late, Pa. We need to have somewhere to sleep.’ She turned to Byron. ‘How much rent is she asking?’

‘About twice as much as we were paying Ma Burton.’

‘Daylight robbery,’ Robert said, frowning. ‘We’ll look elsewhere.’

Nettie tightened her grip on her father’s arm. ‘Think about it, Pa. If we can’t find somewhere quickly we’ll have to pay for three hotel rooms. What would that cost?’

‘All right.’ Robert gave in graciously. ‘We’ll take the rooms for a week, and in the meantime we can look for something more reasonable.’ He picked up the bag containing his paints and brushes, leaving Byron to carry his case. ‘Lead on. I want to see what you’ve let us in for, Mr Horton.’

‘I’d remind you that you are the one fleeing the law, Mr Carroll. And since you cannot speak the language you are at a definite disadvantage.’ Byron dropped the suitcase at Robert’s feet. ‘I came as a friend, not as a servant.’ He took Nettie’s valise from her hand and led the way into the house.

‘You asked for that, Pa,’ Nettie said softly. ‘Don’t underestimate Byron, and remember that we need him if we’re to get on in this country.’

‘When I want your opinion I’ll ask for it.’ Robert stomped past her and followed the landlady up the stairs.

Madame was not a young woman, but she was obviously used to negotiating five flights of steep stairs and she was barely out of breath when they reached the attics. Robert, however, was red in the face and gasping for breath. Nettie’s knees were aching, but she could see that her father was genuinely suffering.

Madame unlocked the door and ushered them into the room. She addressed Byron, speaking rapidly and waving her hands about as if conducting an invisible orchestra.

‘She wants a week’s rent in advance and she’s put the price up,’ Byron said hastily. ‘I think she suspects something, so it might be as well to pay her and keep her happy.’

‘Blackmail is the same in any language.’ Robert took a leather pouch from his pocket and handed it to Byron. ‘Pay the old hag, but we won’t be staying here for long. That I promise you.’ He glanced around the low-ceilinged room with bare floorboards and the minimum of furniture.

All smiles now, Madame left them, closing the door behind her.

‘I get the feeling she’s had the best of that deal,’ Byron said grimly.

Nettie examined the iron bed with a thin flock-filled mattress, and the washstand with a cracked basin and a jug with a chipped handle. A single chair and a low table were the only other items of furniture, and it was much the same in the larger room, although it boasted a double bed and two chairs. She was quick to notice that one of them had a broken leg.

‘How am I supposed to work here?’ Robert demanded. ‘I suppose I will have to let you share with me, Horton, unless you can persuade Madame to supply another bed.’

Nettie turned on him, frowning. ‘Stop complaining, Pa. At least we have a roof over our heads, and it gives us time to look round for something better. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Robert said apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, Nettie. I am being selfish and thoughtless. Let’s try that café we saw in the square. Maybe I can drum up some custom for sketching portraits in charcoal. That means cash on the nail.’

Nettie shook her head. ‘Pa, you’re unbelievable.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment, my dear,’ Robert said, smiling. ‘Lead on, Horton. No hard feelings, old man. We’re in this together now and I’m very grateful to you for using your linguistic abilities to our advantage.’

Nettie and Byron exchanged amused glances, saying nothing. Nettie was used to her father’s mercurial temperament, and she was relieved to see that Byron did not take him too seriously.

‘Let me wash my hands and face first,’ Nettie said hastily. ‘I need to brush my hair and make myself presentable.’

‘Very well.’ Robert sighed heavily. ‘If you must.’

Nettie took off her gloves and laid them on the single bed before going to the washstand, but the pitcher was empty.

‘I thought there would be water in the jug, but it’s empty.’

Byron stuck his head round the door. ‘Madame said we have to fetch it from the pump in the back yard. I’ll go, Nettie.’

‘Don’t worry, Byron. I’ll wash later. Let’s get something to eat first.’

It was almost dark when they reached the café in the square, but it was packed with customers, and they were lucky to find a table outside.

‘We must have wine to celebrate our first night of freedom,’ Robert said grandly. ‘A good claret, I think. You can order it, Horton, and I’ll have a steak. I don’t want any of their foreign food.’

‘We have to budget our money, Pa,’ Nettie said in a low voice.

‘I have to eat, dear girl. I cannot produce my best work if I am hungry, and a man needs red meat. I don’t suppose they do chops or steak-and-kidney pudding. Order plenty of food, Horton. We won’t be short of money once I become established, and you’re a big strong fellow, I’m sure you’ll find gainful employment soon.’

Nettie glanced anxiously at Byron, who had managed to attract the attention of a waiter and was passing on the order. She leaned towards him.

‘I’ll have the dish of the day or whatever is cheapest, Byron.’

‘Too late,’ he said as the waiter hurried off into the café. ‘I’ve ordered steaks all round. You heard your father, Nettie. He’s going to earn a fortune with his sketches and paintings. We’ll be dining like this every evening.’ He sat back as another waiter arrived with a bottle of wine, and he sampled it like an expert, nodding his approval.

Nettie raised her full glass to her lips and gulped down a mouthful of the ruby-red wine, and a warm glow spread throughout her body. Suddenly her worries seemed quite trivial. After all, Pa had once been a famous artist in his own right – he could compete with any foreign painter on equal terms. The night air was relatively mild, compared to the chill in England, and the sound of chatter in a foreign language, together with gusts of laughter, made her feel as if she was a guest at a party. The savoury aroma of cooking emanated from the café, laced with wine and garlic, and everyone seemed to be smoking the exotic-smelling tobacco, even the women. Nettie felt as though she had entered another world.

‘I think I might like it here,’ she said, smiling. ‘Maybe we could discover something about your mother’s family, Byron.’ She turned to her father, who was already on his second glass of wine. ‘Did you know that Byron’s mother came from Paris?’

‘Really?’ Robert sipped his drink. ‘I wondered how you came to learn the lingo.’

‘Will you try to find your family?’ Nettie asked eagerly.

‘I doubt if I’ll have much luck,’ Byron said slowly. ‘They were what are commonly known as water gypsies – never in one place for very long. I know very little about them.’

‘That’s even more of a reason to look for them.’ Nettie rarely drank alcohol and now she felt pleasantly relaxed, and perhaps she understood a little why her father enjoyed a glass or two of wine. ‘We could make enquiries, Byron. What was your mother’s maiden name?’

‘She was called Lisette, but I never knew her maiden name. It wasn’t mentioned.’

‘Maybe we can find someone who remembers the family.’

‘It was a long time ago, nearly a quarter of a century. My grandparents might be dead, for all I know.’

‘Ah! That smells good.’ Robert brightened up as the waiter appeared with their order. ‘Let’s eat and enjoy our meal. Forget relatives, forget London.’ Robert raised his glass. ‘Here’s to Paris, and a new beginning.’

Nettie joined in the toast, but even under the mellowing influence of the wine, she had a feeling that starting afresh in a foreign country was not going to be easy.