The Disgrace of Kitty Grey (28 page)

Lieutenant Warwick told me that the burial was to be at five o'clock that afternoon and that Betsy and I should be in the infirmary at four o'clock. He then went off to make the necessary arrangements.

Finding Betsy, I took her off to the quietest corner I could find, well away from the distraction of the livestock. Sitting down on the deck beside her, I looked her over carefully, wondering how much she'd been affected by the things she'd been through and how she'd deal with the part which was coming next. Her little face was scaly with salt, there were what looked like cold sores around her mouth and, though she was bundled up in shawls, her fingers were chapped with cold. She also had chilblains on her toes, because I'd had to cut off the tips of her shoes to enable her to fit into them. She looked poor and neglected, though I didn't know how I could have done more for her.

‘Betsy,' I whispered, ‘what if someone was to give you a wish . . .'

‘Like in Cinderella?' she asked straight away, because Margaret told all the children stories at night.

I nodded.

‘Then I would have mice turned into horses and a sparkly gown to go to the ball.'

‘Yes,' I said, ‘that's what Cinderella wanted. But if you got a wish, what do you think you'd wish for?'

She thought for a long moment. ‘I'd wish for Will.'

‘Ah.' I let my breath out in a sigh. ‘Now, what if I found a way to make that wish come true?'

She stared at me. ‘Like a fairy godmother?'

‘A little bit like a fairy godmother. I think I might be able to grant your wish, but you'll have to do something for me first.'

‘Is it to go to sleep for a hundred years?'

I laughed, because it was something along those lines. ‘That's Sleeping Beauty. No, I don't want you to sleep for a hundred years, just for a little while. And you have to
pretend
to be asleep, that's all.'

She nodded. ‘All right. Can I go and see the animals now?'

‘Yes, you can. But when I call you, you must come straight away and do everything I tell you.' I took her hands. ‘Everything, mind,' I said with careful emphasis, ‘even if it seems very strange. And if you do what I say, then your wish will come true and when you wake up, you'll see Will.'

Her face lit up.

‘Do you understand?'

She nodded solemnly.

‘And, Betsy, you mustn't tell anyone. Even Robyn.'

‘Is it a special secret?'

‘Yes, it is.'

‘Now can I go?'

‘Yes, you can,' I said, and she sped off.

I don't remember how I spent those last hours on board, just that I was in an agony of suspense. I suspected everyone who boarded of knowing our intentions; every shout from a sailor and every command from an officer made my heart leap with fright. There was one terrible moment when an official from the courts in London arrived with a scroll under his arm and I felt certain it was something to do with me and I was going to be hauled back to Newgate. It was a reprieve, however, for Verity, a girl of fifteen who'd been found guilty of the theft from her mistress of an emerald necklace. With just hours to go before the ship sailed, her mistress had remembered that she'd lent the necklace to a friend.

I hid myself away most of that day, not wanting to be the least bit conspicuous. I told Martha to make up some tale to reassure Robyn about our disappearance and said that she could, later and in confidence, also tell Margaret. As for the others – well, there were so many of us now crowded into the airless, muggy orlop at night, fighting over our bread allowance, bickering over some slight or other, that even if ten girls disappeared it would hardly be remarked upon. I heard one girl saying that, with luck, a few more would die and leave better rations for the rest.

At the due time I bid a tearful goodbye to Martha and gave her my address at Bridgeford Hall so that, in all hopefulness, we might be in contact again at some point in the future. I could not take anything with me, so I gave her my second-best dress and a few little things that I'd collected, which she was pleased with. After that, I found Betsy as planned, and together we went to the infirmary.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

 

The rowing boat rocked. The canvas was clammy and heavy about me, and I felt sick and disorientated. My idea of hell, I now knew, was to be consigned for ever to the bottom of a boat in the bitterest of weathers, being joggled first one way, then the next, never seeing daylight or knowing when I'd be released. I did not relish either being in such close proximity to the corpse of Annie Lease, and was trying to keep my mind off this matter.

‘I think we are far enough away from the ship,' I heard Lieutenant Warwick say at last. ‘Heave to, sailor!'

I heard a creak and a splash as the oars changed direction and Betsy wriggled against me, her hair in my nostrils smelling like damp, dirty straw.

‘Can I talk now? Can I move?' she whispered.

‘In just a moment,' I whispered back.

I was excited and a little apprehensive, wondering how Betsy would react on seeing Will. She had no idea that it was he who was rowing us to freedom; he'd only arrived after we'd been placed in our canvas shroud and prayed over by the chaplain.

‘Allow me to release you,' came Lieutenant Warwick's voice, and I heard the sound of canvas being sliced open by a penknife. It fell away and there he was, immaculate in full dress uniform, smiling at both of us. ‘What a good and well behaved child you are,' he said, lifting Betsy from me.

Betsy rubbed her eyes, confused, for when we'd climbed into our canvas coffin it had been dusk. Now it was dark and the only light came from the lantern swinging on the yardarm, and the moon appearing out of the clouds now and then. She looked around.

‘Where's my brother? You said he –' she began, and then she spotted Will and burst into tears. After the tears came a few moments of aloof disdain when she wouldn't even look at him, then a little display of temper, and finally a hurried clambering across the boat to be held tightly in his arms.

After that it was my turn to be held so – and following that there was such an amount of laughing and crying in the small boat, it was as though Betsy and I really had come back from the dead.

We were brought back to reality by a gentlemanly cough from Lieutenant Warwick, who said he had to return to the ship. Will therefore took his penknife and sprung open first his leg irons, then mine, and we threw them overboard.

‘I have a rough map of the Sound,' Will said, and he loosened Betsy's hands around him and delved into his oilskin cape to consult a square of paper. ‘If it's convenient to you, sir, I'll row us towards the green which leads to the turnpike road, where you can leave us.'

Lieutenant Warwick nodded. ‘Before that, let us not forget our other duty,' he said and, bidding Will take up one end of the canvas-wrapped bundle containing Annie Lease, they slipped it into the sea. It sank straight away, for it was weighted with stones. As it did so I said a little prayer for the girl who'd unwittingly helped our escape – and prayed for myself, too, that I'd never have to go to sea in any sort of a boat ever again.

The lieutenant and Will rolled up the canvas that Betsy and I had been concealed in, and this was also thrown into the sea and, being similarly weighted, it slipped under the water. Will then began rowing powerfully to where the lights of the land flickered. I stared at him in the gloom: at his outline, his strong arms on the oars, his straight back, his pigtail of hair shiny with grease. Oh thank the Lord that we had found each other again!

On reaching land, Will beached the rowing boat on a spit of sand and the three of us got out, leaving Lieutenant Warwick to return to the
Juanita
. He said farewell to each of us in turn, shaking hands with Will, kissing Betsy's head, and patting my shoulder in an awkward manner, and I could not find words enough to thank him for what he had done for us. I wished then that I could be like my young Misses, educated in the art of making pretty speeches, but all I could do was stutter a few words and turn away, my eyes brimming with tears.

It was our fervent hope that, in the chaos of getting the ship ready to sail, Will would not be missed, but in case it was seen that Lieutenant Warwick had come back on his own, he was going to say there had been a struggle to gain control of the rowing boat and Will had fallen overboard and drowned. The pressed men, Will had already told me, were the very lowliest members of the ship's crew, hardly regarded as crew at all and, as with the cargo of girls, one more or less made little difference to anyone.

The three of us sat on the grass for a while until the lieutenant's boat disappeared between the numerous other craft. It might have been a romantic moment, for we were free of all constraints, the stars were glittering and the moon was sailing like a silver disc in the clear sky – but what happened next was that I was violently sick and had to tear a strip of fabric from the hem of my gown in order to cleanse myself. I felt wretched, tired and nauseous, and – Betsy now being half asleep – Will said we should try and find shelter under a hedge or in a barn and start our walk home the following day. Saying this, he looked up to the sky and pointed out some significant stars, telling me that he'd learned a little navigation from the sailors. We needed to travel north, apparently, towards the Pole Star, in order to reach Bridgeford, which he thought was some twenty miles off.

We set off and I enjoyed the freedom of being unshackled, although before we'd gone very far I was overcome with exhaustion and felt that, despite the harshness of the weather, I could have slept soundly in the middle of a turnip field. Seeing my great tiredness, Will went a little way ahead, Betsy on his shoulder, to spy out the countryside. He came back to say that he'd located a barn. This proved to be somewhat dilapidated, two of its walls having fallen out, but was well provided with soft hay. We scooped out nests within and fell asleep immediately.

 

At first light the next morning we started off again, all very hungry, and were happy to discover we had just enough money between us to buy a crusty cottage loaf and some cheese from a farmhouse. We ate this as we walked and enjoyed our meal immensely. It was a fresh, crisp morning, the sky was a vivid blue, and the sun was skittering in and out between puffy clouds.

When Betsy was occupied calling up to squirrels or counting the cows in faraway fields, Will and I spoke at length about what sort of reception we might get at Bridgeford Hall. I longed to be there, but was very apprehensive in case my story might not be believed, and Will was concerned that he would be held responsible for abandoning Betsy.

‘And if someone's stolen my boat or taken over my job and hut, what will I do for a living?' His face suddenly paled. ‘What if a press gang come for me again? If it's found out that I've jumped ship I'll face the death penalty for sure.'

I stopped walking and looked at him consideringly. ‘You must disguise yourself,' I said. ‘You must stop wearing that pigtail and discard the kerchief.' I put out my hand and gently touched the new scar on his lip. ‘Perhaps you should grow a beard to hide that.'

He caught hold of my hand, held it to his lips and kissed it, and we were transfixed for a moment, staring at each other, until Betsy turned and saw us and, running up, laughingly tried to pull us apart.

‘So, Betsy, Kitty thinks I should put on a disguise and grow a beard!' Will said.

‘And he must have a new name, too! What can you think o
f
?' I asked Betsy, and she started to invent many strange and absurd names which kept us laughing as we passed through several more villages.

‘How much longer until we get home?' Betsy now began asking at every corner, every stile, every field, and was maintaining a thin and continuous whine between times. Will began piggybacking her, then carried her in his arms, and I took a turn but couldn't carry her for long.

‘Shall we stop and sleep a while?' I asked, for I felt very weary, but Will shook his head and said we must try to get back by nightfall, for there were signs there would be a very hard frost and he didn't think it was wise to expose Betsy to it.