The Sea Between (10 page)

‘She’s accompanying me, not you, George,’ Charlotte returned mildly. Tucking in her chin, she continued undoing the buttons of her jacket. ‘She can sit next to me. I’ve invited her and she’s coming, and I’ll not have her sitting on her own like a leper.’

George sucked in a deep breath, making his grey twill waistcoat swell. ‘William was hoping to sit next to you! My partner!’

‘I know who he is, George,’ she said, turning to hang up her coat on the cloak-stand. She ought to; George reminded her and Ann often enough. ‘Anyway, William was quite understanding when I told him why I couldn’t accompany him,’ she added, turning around to face him. ‘In any case, I’ve got two sides—a right and a left.’ She held up each hand in turn, to demonstrate. ‘If William wants to sit next to me and there’s a vacant seat, then he’s welcome to sit on it, but Rose will be sitting on the other side of me. I’ve also invited her to church on Sunday and she’ll be sitting beside me then, too.’

‘Church is one thing, Charlotte, but to invite the girl to a social gathering—that’s quite another!’ George retorted. ‘D’you think anyone else in Lyttelton will have their domestic servants or employees sitting beside them at the lantern show?’

The answer to that was almost certainly no, not that she was about to admit it. ‘It’s quite common to see families and their domestic servants sitting in the same pew at church on Sunday morning. If it’s good enough for church, why is it not acceptable practice for social events?’

‘Because they’re two entirely different things, that’s why! It’s acceptable practice inside church; it is not acceptable outside church!’

She gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Well, I’ve made the arrangements and I’m not going to go back on them.’ She would have liked to say considerably more, but once again it came down to what was acceptable and what wasn’t. This was George’s house and she was a guest in it, and, whether she agreed with him or not, he was entitled to some respect from her. She’d had to bite her tongue quite a few times over the past year or so while she’d been living with him and Ann. ‘If you feel uncomfortable about it, I won’t sit next to you. I’ll sit somewhere else,’ she offered.

George gave one of his annoyed grunts. ‘It isn’t only Miss Pitt we’re discussing. It’s my partner. He’s disappointed that you didn’t accept his invitation.’

‘Well, life is full of disappointments, George. Things don’t always turn out as we’d like them to,’ she returned. And on that philosophical note, she swept past him and went into the kitchen to help Ann with the dinner preparations.

T
he large concert hall in the Colonists’ Hall was filling rapidly. Lantern shows were always very popular. Anticipating a full house, they’d arrived early to be sure of good seats, a good seat being one which wasn’t directly behind a large hat elaborately decorated with feathers, such as George had had the misfortune to find himself sitting behind at the last show. There was no danger of that tonight; they were in the front row. Charlotte glanced across at Rose, who was sitting on her right. Rose had been waiting on the street for them, outside the entrance, when they arrived. She was wearing the blue shawl Charlotte had given her and she’d done her hair nicely, rolling the sides under before sweeping them back. The style suited her, the extra fullness making her face look less thin, and the blue shawl brought out the delicate colour of her hair. She really looked quite pretty tonight.

‘Rose.’ Charlotte leaned towards her as a thought occurred to her. ‘Can you sew?’

Rose nodded. ‘I can, miss. Were you wanting some mending done?’

Charlotte shook her head and smiled at her. ‘No, but I have a dress which is a little tight on me. Would you like it? If you think you can alter it to fit you, you can have it.’ It was a deep azure colour and would look lovely against Rose’s pale skin.

‘Oh, I’m sure I can alter it, miss,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘I’m quite good with a needle. Thank you, miss. Thank you very much.’

Charlotte’s smile spread into a wide grin, mirroring Rose’s. It wasn’t often that Rose smiled properly, but when she did it was infectious. ‘I’ll bring it to the shop on Monday,’ she said.

‘I believe they’re showing
The Butcher’s Lad
tonight,’ William commented as he caught her eye. He, too, had arrived early to be sure of a good seat—a good seat in his case being one next to Charlotte. ‘I’ve seen it at least half a dozen times, but it still makes me laugh. Ah, it looks as if the show is starting,’ he said as the light in the room suddenly dimmed. Two young women were going down the aisles, putting out the lamps. Moments later, the room plunged into darkness, a loud chord sounded from the piano, and the accompanist struck up a lively tune.

‘
The Apple Thief,
’ William whispered, leaning across to her. ‘I recognize the music.’

He was right, it was
The Apple Thief
—a very amusing depiction of a young lad who climbed onto a fence so he could steal an apple from an overhanging branch. Predictably, just as he’d picked one, the gardener poked his head around the corner of the fence, to the accompaniment of deep foreboding chords from the piano. The last slide showed the boy getting his just deserts, being beaten across the backside with a stout stick. The next set of slides were scenic ones; then, to William’s delight, came
The Butcher’s Lad,
a silly story about two dogs who contrived to steal a string of sausages from a butcher’s delivery lad. Silly or not, it clearly appealed to William, who laughed uproariously from start to finish. Rose was enjoying it, too, judging by her giggles.

An hour later the show was over, the lamps were burning brightly again, and people were starting to make their way to the back of the room, where a light supper was being served.

‘Shall we see what’s on offer?’ William suggested, rising to his feet.

‘Yes, all right,’ Charlotte said, and stood up. She glanced down at Rose, who was still sitting in her seat, staring into space, absently stroking the long tassels of the blue shawl. ‘Rose, would you like some supper? It’s included in the price of the ticket,’ she added, deciding she’d better make it clear that it was free.

Rose cast a dubious eye over the crowd of people milling around the supper tables. She was obviously trying to decide whether a free supper was worth feeling like a fish out of water while she ate it. ‘I think I’d better be on my way, Miss Blake,’ she said at last.

Charlotte didn’t press her. If she’d been in Rose’s shoes, she probably would have chosen to go home, too. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow at church then,’ she reminded.

Rose nodded and stood up, thanked her for the show, and left.

‘I hope she goes straight back to her lodgings,’ William commented as he watched Rose make her way to the door.

‘D’you think she might decide to burgle half a dozen houses on her way home?’

Catching the tone in Charlotte’s voice, William turned to face her. ‘No. It was Miss Pitt’s safety that I was concerned for. There’s a vessel in port—the
Sans Souci
—whose crew caused a lot of trouble last time they were here, with their drunken revelry.’

She flushed guiltily and did the only thing she could—apologized. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said simply. ‘I’ve grown so used to George telling me that Rose will never stay honest, I tend to think everyone feels as he does.’

‘Well, to be truthful I’m not convinced that she’ll stay honest either,’ William said. ‘But I don’t think she’ll rob half of Lyttelton on her way home.’

‘But you think she may rob me.’

He shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t rule out the possibility. She stole from her previous employer.’

‘Once a thief, always a thief. Is that what you think?’

‘No, I don’t think that at all,’ he replied. ‘I’m quite sure that large numbers of both men and women who serve a term in gaol for theft never offend again. The reason I’m dubious about Miss Pitt’s ability to stay honest is because no one appears to know why she stole. It’s quite possible, therefore, that whatever or whoever prompted her to steal before may prompt her to steal again.’

She puckered her mouth in annoyance, not with William, but with George. By the sound of it, George had told William everything he knew about Rose; things she’d told him in confidence. ‘I take it you wouldn’t employ her,’ she said.

‘No.’

‘Do you not believe in giving someone a second chance?’

‘I
believe,
’ he said with a slightly mocking smile, ‘that a person who doesn’t have a history of dishonesty is more deserving of employment than a person who does. Therefore, if two people applied for a position in my company and one had a history of dishonesty and one didn’t I would always favour the latter.’

‘Even if the latter were less capable?’

William laughed. ‘There are plenty of very capable people in this country, Charlotte, most of whom have not been in prison.’

Much as it went against the grain, she had to admit that he was right. Nor could she deny that there was a certain justice in giving preference to honest, law-abiding folk. Somebody had to employ people like Rose, though, otherwise what would they do for a living? Steal?

‘We shall have to agree to differ on the subject, it seems,’ she said.

‘It’s a topic which men and women invariably differ on,’ he returned with a smile. ‘Women tend towards compassion, whereas men are more pragmatic.’

She certainly couldn’t argue with that statement.

‘Shall we see if there’s any supper left?’ he suggested, and moved aside to let her to go first.

‘Can you see where George and Ann are?’ she asked. Though solidly built George was on the short side, which made him hard to pick out in a crowd, and Ann was even shorter.

‘Over there to the right,’ he said, pointing. ‘Do you know the people they’re talking to? I can’t say that I recognize either of them.’

Charlotte stared in shock. The woman she didn’t recognize, but the man she did. His back was to her, but she’d have known him anywhere.

‘They’re Captain and Mrs Steele,’ she said in clipped tones. ‘Captain Steele owns the neighbouring farm to my father’s. I haven’t met his wife.’

‘I expect you’d like to make her acquaintance then,’ William said, and steered her towards them.

Seeing them approaching, Richard’s wife smiled pleasantly, while George and Ann—who were plainly wondering what sort of an atmosphere was going to emerge when Charlotte and Richard met again—exchanged uncomfortable glances.

Whatever was going through Richard’s mind, he was careful not to let it show. Even when he glanced down at the silver brooch pinned to Charlotte’s bodice—the brooch he had given to her—the expression on his face didn’t alter. ‘How are you, Charlotte?’ he enquired evenly.

‘I’m very well, thank you, Captain Steele,’ she replied, pointedly using his formal title.

Turning to William, who was standing beside her, Richard extended his hand. ‘I’m Richard Steele.’

William shook his hand genially. ‘William Fairfield. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Captain Steele.’

The formalities with William finished, Richard introduced his wife, Eliza. She was wearing a close-fitting burgundy silk jacket and matching skirt, elegantly scalloped around the hem. The jacket, heavily decorated with tiny black beads and black piping, had been designed to show off the slenderness of her waist. Her dark hair had been swept tightly back, then pulled to one side, so that three long ringlets hung over her left shoulder. As for her features, she had quite a long, oval face, neat dark eyebrows, light blue eyes, and a straight finely boned nose. She wasn’t beautiful, but nor was she plain.

‘Mr Fairfield, I’m so pleased to meet you,’ Eliza said pleasantly. She turned to Charlotte and smiled. ‘Your brother was telling us that you own a haberdashery in the town, Miss Blake. I shall come and inspect your stock once I’ve settled into the house.’

Charlotte stared at her. House? Surely Richard hadn’t settled his wife in Lyttelton?

‘George has just been telling us that you’re living in Lyttelton now, Charlotte,’ Richard inserted quickly. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘I’ve been living here for over a year,’ she replied, then turned to Eliza again. ‘Whereabouts in Lyttelton are you living, Mrs Steele?’

Eliza smiled again. ‘Richard found a very nice property for sale on Voelas Road. We moved in yesterday morning. It has such a lovely view and it’s nice and private, not being in the main part of the town. Tell me, do you sell tapestry silks in your shop?’

She did, unfortunately. ‘Yes, I do,’ she replied.

‘Oh, I do hope you have the pale gold colour that I need,’ Eliza said. ‘I’ve almost run out of it. I meant to buy some in Auckland before we left.’

‘Ann is very fond of needlework,’ George interjected quickly, rather obviously trying to keep the conversation on what he thought was prickle-free ground.

‘Er…yes, I am,’ Ann murmured. She smiled at Eliza then
glanced uncomfortably at George, who had unintentionally placed her in a difficult situation. The polite thing to do now was to invite Eliza around to the house so she could have some company while she sewed. Knowing how Charlotte would feel about that, though, Ann was plainly reluctant to suggest it. In the end, manners won out.

‘Perhaps we can while away the afternoon together sometime, Mrs Steele,’ Ann suggested. She glanced at Charlotte and added quickly, ‘My sister-in-law is usually at her shop in the afternoons.’

And would most definitely be at the shop on those afternoons when Eliza Steele was at the house, Charlotte thought.

‘Thank you. I’d enjoy that very much,’ Eliza said warmly.

‘How long are you ashore for?’ Ann enquired, turning to Richard.

‘A fortnight,’ he answered.

‘You’ll be visiting your mother, I expect?’

‘Of course. We’re going to the farm on Monday. We’ll be staying there for about a week.’

Ann gave a small nod, then said quietly, ‘We were all very shocked by your father’s death.’

‘Yes, so was I,’ Richard returned.

‘It was very hard for Richard. He was in England when he heard about it,’ Eliza added.

Charlotte looked away as Eliza slipped her arm through her husband’s and affectionately rubbed the sleeve of his jacket. It was two years since she’d last seen Richard. She’d always known they would meet again one day, but she hadn’t expected it to be tonight, with his wife on his arm, and she felt completely unprepared for the strong emotions that had been stirred up. A very mixed brew of emotions they were, too.

‘You travel long distances, do you, Captain Steele?’ William enquired.

‘I do,’ Richard said, and proceeded to tell him the various places where his business had taken him.

As the conversation about shipping and travel continued between Richard and William, Eliza struck up a conversation with Ann, enquiring when her baby was due, which was in a little over eight weeks’ time. Charlotte was half-expecting Eliza to announce that she was pregnant, too. She didn’t, but if her interest in Ann’s middle was anything to go by she was looking forward to having a family of her own. Charlotte listened for two or three minutes, then excused herself, saying she needed to see some people before they left. Seeing Mrs Roberts, who was a member of the sewing circle, Charlotte walked over to her and her husband. Unfortunately they were on the point of leaving, so Charlotte’s conversation with them lasted little more than a minute. She was just deciding who else she could find an excuse to go and talk to when William walked over to join her.

‘Can I tempt you to some supper?’ he asked. ‘The beef sandwiches look very good.’

She shook her head and smiled. ‘No, thank you. I’m not very hungry. I’ve a slight headache.’ She lifted her hand to rub her forehead. ‘As a matter of fact, I was thinking I might leave.’

‘Well, in that case allow me to see you safely home,’ he offered.

She waited by the supper table while he strode over to tell George that they were leaving. What would Richard make of our leaving together? she wondered. Ridiculous as it was, she hoped he did make something of it.

Once outside on Oxford Street, as they set off up the steep road, William offered her his arm. To be truthful, she was very grateful to have a male arm to hang onto tonight. Two young men, who were clearly very drunk, were wandering up the street just ahead of them. She felt quite glad when she and William reached the quietness of Exeter Street.

‘I’ll come in and light the lamp for you,’ William offered, seeing the house in darkness.

‘There’s no need,’ she said, as she halted at the gate. ‘I’m not afraid of the dark.’

‘Neither am I,’ he said, and leaned forward to open the latch.

Deciding it was simpler to give in than to argue, she walked up the short path to the front door, with William following behind her. Once at the door, he held out his hand for the key. She gave it to him, then turned to gaze out over the harbour at the anchored ships, clearly visible in the light of the full moon. One of those ships was the
Nina.