Homecoming Girls (41 page)

Clara spent the whole of the following day telling her parents and Elizabeth about her time in America, and about Jewel and the earthquake which had so frightened them, and the revelations which had followed, until Patrick came to collect Elizabeth and take her home with the promise that he would bring her back again soon.

‘We need a town house,’ Elizabeth complained. ‘I dearly want our child to be born in Hull, rather than in the country. I need to be near Mama and Clara.’

‘We’re only half an hour from town,’ Patrick said. ‘Cottingham is very close.’

Clara drew in a breath. ‘I know just the place,’ she said, thinking of the Dreumels’ house in Albion Street and their decision to remain in America. ‘I will enquire for you.’

She kissed her sister goodbye and Patrick pecked her cheek, and after an hour or so of chatting to her mother she said she would like to take a walk.

‘Do, my dear, and why not call on Ruby?’ her mother suggested. ‘She’ll want to hear all about your adventures
with Jewel, and Georgiana and Wilhelm too. Is it official that they’re all staying in America?’

‘It’s a fact that they’re staying, but whether we can spread the news I don’t know. But, Mama, perhaps Elizabeth and Patrick could rent their house – at least until after the baby is born.’

Grace’s face creased into a smile. ‘That would be perfect,’ she said. ‘I’ll write to Georgiana straight away and ask her. Off you go then, Clara. Ask Dan to bring Caitlin to meet me, and give my love to Thomas – if you should chance to meet him!’

Clara assumed nonchalance. How astute her mother was! Was that something which came with experience or maturity, she wondered?

It was a cold, damp and rather foggy day, but Clara was hardly aware of it. What she did notice was how small the town appeared to be after the wide open valleys and mountainous country she had become accustomed to in America. But it did not dismay her; rather she felt comfortable and safe within its familiar confining embrace. She met and greeted many people she knew as she walked down Scale Lane into the Market Place, and down Silver Street towards Whitefriargate and the Land of Green Ginger.

She hesitated at the top of the street for only a moment and then swiftly turned back and crossed over into Trinity House Lane in the direction of the warehouse, where she was almost sure she would find Thomas.

The door knob turned noiselessly and as she stepped over the threshold she saw Thomas leaning over the work bench. His fair hair hung over his forehead and he was concentrating on a piece of wood. He had an adze in his hand, so she held her breath and didn’t speak in case he should spoil whatever he was doing.

‘You can come in, you know,’ he said quietly. ‘I shan’t cut myself.’

‘Oh! I didn’t think you’d heard me.’ She gave a low laugh. Of course he had heard her; and probably seen her too, as he
was facing in the direction of the door.

He looked up and smiled his slow smile, and she felt as if the sun had suddenly come out.

‘How are you, Thomas?’

He pursed his mouth and nodded. ‘Better’n I was five minutes ago. You?’

‘Yes,’ she said, and wondered why she felt so breathless. ‘I’m well.’

He put down the adze and she went towards the bench. ‘What are you making?’

‘A crib. It’s for a friend o’ mine who’s expecting a happy event.’

‘Good. You heard, then? Are you – keeping busy?’ She felt the need for small talk until she had accustomed herself to his nearness and they were back on their old easy footing.

‘Aye. I’ve been working on a new idea.’

‘Oh? What sort of idea?’

‘I’d like to set up a larger warehouse; a business where other craftsmen and toymakers could either work alongside us, or send their work to be displayed. Sort of like a large shop where ’public can come in and watch us work and buy our products. I’ve been thinking about it and planning while you’ve been away. No distractions, you see.’

‘Did I distract you?’ she asked, almost holding her breath.

‘You know that you did; just as Dan was distracted by Jewel, except that he now loves somebody else, whereas I . . .’

She gazed at him. ‘What will you call this idea of yours?’

‘Toy Town Incorporated.’ He came slowly round the bench towards her.

‘TTI,’ she said softly. ‘The children will love it.’

He took hold of her hands and gazed at her. ‘This has been ’longest time of my life.’

‘Has it?’ she whispered. ‘And yet you let me leave without saying anything?’

He continued looking at her, his eyes sweeping her face. When he spoke his voice was warm and sure. ‘You had to go on this journey, Clara, in order to know yourself. It wasn’t
only Jewel who was looking for answers. If I’d spoken earlier to say I loved you, you’d never have known if there was someone else that you might have loved more than me.’

‘But there isn’t and never was,’ she whispered.

‘Are you sure?’

She thought of Jim Crowfoot and the impossibility of loving him and Thomas seemed to sense the hesitation. ‘Not someone you
might
have loved?’

‘More than you?’ Clara smiled. ‘No.’

‘Can I kiss you?’ he asked, fingering her cheek.

‘Do you need to ask?’

‘Aye, I do. I tek nothing for granted.’ But he bent forward before she could reply and gently kissed her lips. ‘I’ve wanted to do that for so long,’ he whispered into her ear as he drew her close.

Clara closed her eyes. ‘And I’ve been waiting,’ she murmured. ‘Longer than I even knew.’

He held her at arms’ length. ‘I’m not like our Dan, all hot air and exuberant passion. My love for you has been smouldering for years.’ He put his head back and laughed. ‘A red-hot fire beneath a volcano!’

She laughed too and they rocked in each other’s arms. ‘And I have no means of putting out the fire!’

‘We’d best get wed then as fast as we can,’ he said, kissing her again. ‘Or else we might burn.’

Jewel sat in her room at the Dreumel Marius and reread Clara’s letter. It was the second she had received from her cousin since she had left for England and home. The first was to tell her about her engagement to Thomas and their wedding plans for the summer, and the new business that Thomas was planning. This one was to tell her of the safe arrival of Elizabeth’s son, born in January in the house in Albion Street.

Jewel smiled and heaved a sigh. How lovely. She recalled her own happy childhood in the house and was pleased that once again there would be the sound of a child’s voice echoing round the rooms. Now she was about to write to give Clara the news from Dreumel’s Creek.

I have delayed writing
, she wrote,
as the doctor told Mama that he thought the baby would be early, and she was. Three weeks ago, Mama was safely delivered of a daughter. Mama was quite weak, but the doctor says she is now making a good recovery and she is deliriously happy. The babe is to be named Clarissa after the aunt who brought Mama up when she was a child. She’s the most adorable baby ever, so tiny and sweet, and it’s going to break my heart to leave her. Oh, now I’m giving away what I am about to write!

As I look out of my window I see Dan going by, driving a horse and waggon. The snow is still very thick here but he is clearing the site in Yeller where he and Caitlin are to build a house. Caitlin is still managing the hotel but come spring Mr Adams is coming from
the New York Marius to take over from her. Then Dan and Caitlin have plans for their toyshop, which I’m sure will be very popular, and I understand they will also sell small items of furniture suitable for children. Dan’s hopes for a gold or pyrite strike came to nothing, unfortunately, although he seems quite unperturbed about it. I think he feels lucky with what he has
.

The winter has been exceptionally hard here and we were completely cut off for several weeks, but eventually the men from both towns were able to dig a track through, with just enough room for a horse and waggon to pass along
.

But as I speak of the winter snows, I come to the most important part of my letter, and yet I don’t quite know where to start. But perhaps at the beginning, which was in San Francisco about a month ago . . .

Maria and Pinyin were together in the kitchen behind the restaurant. Maria was leaning on the pastry table, her knuckles clenched into fists and her mouth set in a pinched line. Pinyin had both hands on his slim hips, but one also held his wide chopping blade. Had it slipped it would have sliced through his foot.

‘What am I to do with him?’ Maria muttered. ‘That boy is driving me crazy.’

‘I’ve told you. Tell him to go!’ Pinyin gazed expressionlessly at Maria, yet his black eyes flashed. ‘He’s no good to anyone right now.’

Maria straightened up and looked at him. ‘How will we manage?’

‘We’ll manage.’ Pinyin put down the blade and started to empty a basket of onions, carrots, garlic and tomatoes on to a chopping board.

Maria gave a little smile and reflected on how often she had sought advice from Pinyin. She remembered the first time he had come to the bakery begging for a job. She had given him the chance against her husband’s wishes, for he was willing to work for next to nothing and she badly needed help. It wasn’t until some time later that she had realized he was watching
over the baby next door. He’d taken the toddler Lorenzo to see the little girl and Edward had handed her to him. From behind the dividing wall in the yard she had seen Pinyin gently kiss the top of the baby’s head.

At the time she had thought it an unusual thing for a young unmarried man to do, but now and again his sister Soong Daiyu had called to see him and Maria had noticed her too glancing across to the house next door; she put two and two together and realized that there was a slender link between them and the motherless child. But by then Pinyin had become inseparable from Lorenzo. He was the only one who could tame the tyrannical toddler, as he was then, moulding him to be the sweet-natured boy and gentle man that he was to become.

‘How?’ she asked him now as with deft fingers and swift movements he began chopping and slicing. Then she shrugged. ‘Not that we are so busy just now.’

‘Exactly so.’ Pinyin never paused for a moment and she marvelled at his dexterity. He had never, to her knowledge, cut himself. ‘I can cook and serve, you can cook and my sister can wash the dishes. If necessary my nephew Chen will help. He has worked in a restaurant.’

Maria stared at him, her mouth parted. ‘But then it will be a Chinese restaurant!’

‘Italian and Chinese, yes.’ He didn’t lift his head but looked up at her from beneath his dark raised brows. ‘You may have a half-Chinese daughter one day. She might like Chinese food.’

Maria sat down on the nearest stool. Lorenzo had not smiled since Jewel had left and even his friends had remarked on it, except Federico, who no longer came to visit. Christmas had been dismal and the two of them had eaten together after their customers had left with hardly a word passing between them.

‘If it makes him happy,’ she said, ‘then that is what we must do. Otherwise he may never sing again.’

And so Lorenzo was dispatched from San Francisco on the
long journey towards the young woman whom he so desperately loved. Jewel had written to tell him of her journey to her home in the mountains and how much she was missing all her friends, Italian and Chinese, more than she could possibly say. He knew now what his mother had guessed, that Jewel’s mother was expecting a child and that this anticipated event had precipitated her early departure.

She had written again to tell him of Clara’s engagement to someone she had known all her life, and he thought he had caught a sense of yearning within her words. Yet whenever he began a letter to her he was barely able to string a sentence together. In each one he wanted to tell her of his affection, yet dared not write the word
love
in case she should reject him, even though he felt she had given him some cause to hope by her sweetness towards him when she had been in his company. So instead he wrote of the weather, and about the restaurant, and of Soong Daiyu’s occasional visits,
and oh, yes
, he had added in one, hoping that she would read the hidden message between the lines,
Madre has begun lighting a fire several times a week in your house; she says to keep it aired for when, or if, you should return, which I hope with all my heart that you will
.

Jewel had described the snow in the valley, and so before he began packing warm clothes for his hurried departure he wrote a hasty letter to her to say that he was travelling to New York and would like to call at Dreumel’s Creek to see her, as if it were a mere street away rather than another day’s journey.

‘Madre!’ he said, kissing his mother’s cheek as he left. ‘I might not return alone, do you realize that? Can you manage without me? It could be some time before my return.’

‘Go!’ She gave him a push towards the door. ‘Do whatever you must. Take care. Be happy again.’

He smiled at that and climbed into the cab. Pinyin ran alongside, planning to help Lorenzo with his trunk at the station and make sure that he got on the train and didn’t have second thoughts about his mission.

The first two days of the journey passed pleasantly. Lorenzo played cards with other passengers in his carriage, of which there were six, two of them being elderly ladies. He joined in the singing and was commended for his fine voice. They arranged a duty roster for cooking so that they didn’t all crowd into the tiny kitchen at the same time, and Lorenzo was very popular as his mother had sent him off with enough food to last a week, which he shared. Others had brought ready-cooked joints of beef and chicken, which were sliced and handed round. Some had brought jerked meat, which he found almost inedibly tough; others distributed tinned fruit and sweet cake.