Beyond the Storm (6 page)

T
HE FIERCE STORM
that had brought destruction and death to ships and their passengers and crews in the Western approaches to the British Isles blew itself out during the
following
night, leaving an uneasy calm along the coastline that had suffered such a battering.

Returning to the Trethevy rectory the next day, Reverend David Kilpeck strode into the kitchen where Alice was seated eating a light lunch. Beaming at his sister and before she had a chance to say anything to him, he said, ‘What a delightful drive I have had from Tavistock, Alice, one could almost feel the storm had washed the sins of the world away and brought new life to
everyone
. What is more, I had a most successful meeting with Reverend Carter and … oh, I have so much to tell you! But first I will have something to eat. The drive in the fresh air has made me quite hungry. I trust you had a peaceful time in my absence and that the storm did not affect Trethevy too badly?’

Alice thought of all that had happened during the two days and nights of his absence and of the four able-bodied men from the Tintagel poorhouse who were at this very moment digging a mass grave in the small piece of enclosed ground behind Trethevy’s tiny church. She felt guilty that she was about to destroy the sense of well-being with which her brother had returned to the rectory.

‘I have rather a lot to tell you, David. I think you should sit down before I begin.’

David looked surprised, but did as she suggested then listened with increasing shock and dismay to what Alice had to tell him about the storm, its impact upon the people of his parish and of the now semi-conscious girl lying in the spare bedroom upstairs in the rectory. Finally and with some hesitation now there had been time to reflect on her actions, she told him of the bodies washed up in the small cove below Trethevy and which were now lying in the church.
His
church!

When she came to an end, David looked at her with an
expression
of disbelief on his face. Struggling to find words to express his feelings, he eventually said, in a strangled voice, ‘You mean there are bodies …
dead
people laid out in my church?’

‘That’s right, six men and a woman, all victims of a shipwreck. It is very, very sad.’

Seemingly still in a state of shock, David asked, ‘What on earth were you thinking about, Alice? Quite apart from any other
considerations
at this moment the church is not fit to keep animals in, let alone lay out bodies – and what am I supposed to do with them now?’

‘Give them a Christian burial,’ Alice said firmly, with renewed conviction that her actions were justified, ‘In the plot of land behind the church that looks as though it might once have been a burial ground.’

‘We can’t be certain it
was
ever a burial ground, or that it was consecrated. We could be breaking any number of ecclesiastical laws by burying them there, Alice.’

‘Possibly,’ agreed Alice, defiantly, ‘but would you rather they had been buried in shallow graves in the sand down at the cove – or the tide allowed to take them back out to sea again, because that is what was going to happen had I taken no action? This way they will be laid to rest with your blessing and our prayers.’

‘There are also a great number of practical issues to be taken into consideration,’ David persisted. ‘Expenses for coffins, pall bearers and grave-diggers … why, there is not enough money in the church coffers to pay for a flagon of Communion wine, let alone a number of funerals!’

‘That has all been taken care of,’ Alice said triumphantly, refusing to concede a single point to her brother’s arguments, ‘The
poorhouse
master has produced the gravediggers – they are digging a mass grave at this very moment – and the coffins have been
provided
from the poorhouse store, paid for in a Christian gesture by the Royal Navy lieutenant in charge of the local coast guard. His men have also offered their services as bearers, free of charge.’

David realised that Alice had thought the matter of the burial of the shipwreck’s victims through thoroughly, but he was not used to making snap decisions on matters likely to result in
controversy
.

‘This is all most irregular, Alice. I do wish you had waited to consult me before making decisions that were not yours to make.’

‘You were not available when they needed to be made,’ Alice replied decisively, aware that she had won the argument, ‘and a decision needed to be reached immediately if the victims were to be given a Christian burial.’

Knowing his sister as he did, David was aware that nothing he could say would make her change her mind. He had no
alternative
but to accept the arrangements she had made for the interment of the shipwreck victims.

‘Were any survivors able to identify those who are to be buried?’ He asked. Resignedly.

Alice shook her head, ‘There is only one survivor, a girl named Eliza. It seems she was taken on at the last minute as a maid to one of the very few passengers on board the vessel. She
apparently
knew none of the crew, or indeed any of her fellow passengers and with all that has happened to her she is
thoroughly
confused. She is upstairs now, in one of the spare rooms. Eliza suffered a nasty injury and was unconscious for a great many hours. Nevertheless, she is a very lucky girl. Lieutenant Kendall, the officer in charge of the coast guards, says as many as seven ships were wrecked on the Cornish coast alone during the storm – and he has heard of another on Lundy Island. It seems it was the worst storm in living memory hereabouts.’

Determined to rid himself of the unchristian relief he felt that more of the storm’s victims had not been washed ashore in his parish, David said, ‘Well, as you have made the burial of these unfortunate people a
fait accompli
for me, I had better find out how soon the gravediggers will complete their task and make the
necessary
arrangements for a simple graveside burial service to be held. When I return to the rectory I will go upstairs to meet your rescued girl – and tell you
my
news. That too is going to involve considerable extra work, but it will bring in extra money for us and so is
good
news.’

‘I am sorry, David, so much has been going on here that I haven’t even
asked
how your visit to Reverend Carter went. I’ll come with you to the church and on the way you can tell me all about it.’

Even though he knew he was being entirely unreasonable, David was unable to entirely hide the disappointment he felt that his own news had been overshadowed by all that had been going on here during his absence.

‘It is quite all right, Alice, I feel you have coped incredibly well on your own during what must have been an appalling and
traumatic
experience and you are needed here to take care of your patient. My news will keep for a quiet moment, when I will tell you all about my meeting with Emmanuel Carter. All I will say for now is that he has asked me to stand in for him as curate of Tintagel, with a salary that, while small, will enable you to take on a housemaid and help us both enjoy a less frugal lifestyle.’ 

‘I
RATHER LIKE
that coast guard officer of yours, Alice. He was most generous with his donation towards the funeral of the poor unfortunates from the shipwreck. Apparently he comes from a good Cornish family, too. One of the Tintagel churchwardens attending the ceremony says his family own land in South Cornwall.’

‘Lieutenant Kendall is not
my
coast guard officer,’ Alice replied indignantly. ‘He is a naval officer who felt that dead sailors are as entitled to a respectful burial as anyone living on land – and if he comes from a well-to-do family I need not feel so guilty about the money he has spent on something that was my suggestion.’

‘I doubt if he will be able to call on his family to pay for his philanthropic whims. Unless he has an allowance the money will come from his naval officer’s salary. It is a thoroughly Christian gesture and as such is most praiseworthy.’

Taken by surprise by her defensive response to his remark, David thought it was probably because she really
was
concerned because a suggestion from her had resulted in the young naval officer spending money.

‘After the service, Lieutenant Kendall mentioned that he would like to speak to Eliza. He has to submit reports to the Coast Guard headquarters in London about the shipwrecks that occurred along the North Cornwall coast during the great storm. There
were very few survivors and it would seem Eliza is the only one from the
Balladeer
.’

It had been confirmed from the wreckage washed ashore that
Balladeer
was the vessel wrecked upon the Lye rock.

‘He is not likely to learn much from Eliza, she is terribly vague about everything that happened,’ Alice said. ‘It is hardly
surprising
, she is little more than a child and it must have been a terrifying ordeal for her.’

‘We must hope she regains her memory in due course, we need to notify someone of her whereabouts.’

‘There is no one,’ Alice replied. ‘She is a poorhouse girl and as a child was put into service with an old lady. Sadly, her employer became senile and was taken to live with a daughter, somewhere in the north of England. They had no need of Eliza and she might have been returned to the poorhouse had she not been taken into service by a lady travelling on the vessel to join her family, only hours before the
Balladeer
sailed. It seems this lady’s own maid changed her mind about going aboard at the very last minute. It all happened so suddenly that Eliza knew her mistress only as “Miss Jenny”. She had been told her surname, but Eliza said it was very long and foreign-sounding and there was no time to familiarise herself with it.’

David frowned, ‘That is all very well, but what will happen to her now, she cannot stay here.’

‘But she
can
, David, don’t you see? When you returned from Tavistock with the news that you were to act as Reverend Carter’s curate at Tinagel, you said we could now afford to take on a housemaid. Well, providence has presented us with one!’

Taken aback, David said, ‘But I was thinking of employing a local girl, someone who would know all the people in the area and be known by them. We know nothing about Eliza and if all she says is true we have no means of obtaining references.’

‘She is a fourteen year-old girl, David. If she has shortcomings
as a housemaid she is young enough to learn new ways. I think this was meant to be – and I
want
her for our housemaid.’

It was apparent that Alice had made up her mind and David was aware that further argument would be futile. Sighing in
resignation
, he said, ‘Very well, but she will begin work on the understanding that she is on a month’s trial. If she proves
unsatisfactory
during that time she must go.’

‘I believe she is exactly what we are looking for, David, but thank you. Had you not persuaded Reverend Carter to take you on as his curate we would never have been able to afford a
housemaid
at all. You are a very clever brother.’

David was aware his sister was only flattering him because she had got her own way, but he did not mind. Alice had always worked hard on his behalf and he was pleased to be able to do something to make
her
happy.

When Alice put the suggestion to Eliza, the young girl could hardly believe her luck. Since recovering consciousness and being told where she was, she had feared her rescuers would be bound to learn
why
she had been on the shipwrecked vessel in the first place.

Fortunately, for some days after her rescue she had difficulty in speaking, the doctor attending her declaring it was the result of swallowing large amounts of sea water. He ordered her
not
to talk until the effects wore off.

As a result, Eliza
listened
to the conversations of those who
frequented
the sick room where she lay and by so doing learned that they believed she was the sole survivor of the
Balladeer
, a ship which had foundered on Lye rock, close to where she had been washed ashore, victim of the ferocious storm which had wrecked so many other ships in the Bristol Channel.

By listening and not talking, Eliza had been able to mentally build up a new identity for herself – including a new name. She
would still be Eliza, but it would now be Eliza
Smith
and not Brooks, a girl whose working life would follow closely upon the life she had known, but leaving out her conviction and sentence of transportation and bypassing those incidents in her life which might lead anyone with an inquiring mind to learn of her true past.

She was also deliberately vague about the actualities of her
survival
, an attitude supported by the doctor attending her. He declared her to be suffering from the trauma of her recent
experience
, advising Alice that she should not be questioned on the subject. It was, he said, something with which she would come to terms ‘in the fullness of time’.

Eliza was less reticent about the duties she had performed as a housemaid when Alice tentatively suggested she might like to work at the rectory. She was desperately eager to be taken into the household of Reverend David Kilpeck and his sister.

Should the authorities discover that Eliza Brooks was alive and free, she would be taken back into custody and the sentence of the London judge carried out. On the other hand, Eliza
Smith
could lead a comfortable enough life here in Cornwall, far from those who had once known her. At least, until she had grown old enough for her appearance to have changed sufficiently to fool anyone who might have known the
other
Eliza well enough to be able to identify her.