The Orphan's Dream (39 page)

Seizing on the fact that he had run out of bluster, Mirabel put her proposition to him as simply as she could, allowing for the fact that he was so entrenched in his opinions that it would take a team of navvies to dig him free.

‘There it is, sir,' she said finally. ‘Our company can offer anglers safe and comfortable trips to any part of the river they choose, within the bounds of the law, of course, at a very reasonable price. Parties or single gentlemen are catered for, and refreshments provided.'

‘The railway companies offer anglers' tickets at reasonable rates, ma'am.'

‘With which we can compete, and give better value for money. I've counted over one hundred and fifty angling clubs in the greater London area. There must be scores of your members who would jump at the chance of a day out on the river, away from the cares of home and hearth.' She could see by the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes that she had won. She took a bundle of leaflets from the document case that had once belonged to her husband and laid them on the desk. ‘Well, sir? What do you say?'

TRADE WITH THE
anglers was brisk while the weather held, and Mirabel put all her energies into securing small contracts with a range of industries, transporting their goods from factories to ports downriver. She could have done even better had they had a larger vessel with a bigger hold, and she realised that to make money they had to expand the business. Edric was not so sure. ‘We'll have to employ another master and crew if we're to do that,' he said, scratching his head. ‘We're doing quite well with the anglers, and next spring we'll have the day trippers back.

‘We will, but we can do even better. Will you trust me on this?'

He grinned. ‘Beatrice would kill me if I didn't listen to you. She thinks you're the cleverest woman she's ever met.'

‘And she's happy in your new home?'

‘It's not quite up to my brother's residence in Spital Square, but we're on our way up, thanks to you.' He gave her a searching look. ‘Jack was a fool to let you go. I agree with my wife on that.'

She turned away, busying herself with the pile of papers on her desk. ‘It wasn't to be, Eddie.' Despite her attempt to sound positive she could not prevent a sigh escaping from her lips.

‘I still say he was an idiot, and if I ever see him again I'll tell him so.' He picked up the manifest for the cargo he was about to take to Deptford. ‘Perhaps you're right, Mirabel. We could make a bigger profit with another vessel. There's plenty of work out there for a small company, as you've proved without a doubt.'

Mirabel looked up at the sound of someone knocking on the study door. ‘Come in.'

Tilda put her head round the door. ‘It's Danny, missis. A copper's brought him home, says he's been brawling and wants to see Pa, but he's not here.'

‘Do you want me to deal with this?' Edric asked, grinning.

‘It's not funny,' Mirabel said, trying not to laugh. ‘The boy needs work other than sifting through the Thames mud.' She met his amused gaze with a speculative look. ‘You could take him on as a deck hand and train him for when we get another boat.'

‘Do I have a choice?'

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Far be it from me to tell you how to run your vessel, Captain Hamilton.'

‘Really?' Tilda looked from one to the other. ‘Will you really take him on, mister? He's a good worker and strong like Pa.'

Mirabel made for the door. ‘Let me sort out the policeman and then you can discuss it with Danny.'

To her surprise and annoyance not only were Danny and the constable standing on the doorstep but Wiley was on the pavement, exhorting the policeman to arrest the boy immediately.

‘What's the matter, constable?' Mirabel asked, ignoring Wiley who was complaining bitterly.

The constable turned to him. ‘Will you keep your comments to yourself, sir? I can't hear myself think, let alone speak to the lady without raising my voice.'

‘I done nothing wrong,' Danny protested, wriggling and grimacing as the constable tightened his grip on his ear. ‘Let me go.'

‘Not until this matter is cleared up, sonny. Does this boy live here, ma'am?'

‘Of course he does,' Wiley said crossly. ‘This is a den of thieves.'

‘I'll thank you to keep quiet, sir.' The policeman released Danny. ‘Don't try to scarper, son. You'll only make matters worse.'

Mirabel laid a protective hand on Danny's shoulder. ‘What has he done?'

‘According to this gent, he caught the lad stealing.'

‘That's a lie,' Danny exclaimed angrily. ‘I've been working the river bank all morning.'

‘Look in his sack, constable.' Wiley pushed forward, snatching the canvas bag from the policeman and tipping the contents over the threshold onto the polished floorboards. ‘Look, a silver teaspoon and a lady's watch.'

‘And there's a shard of pottery, two pennies and a broken chain,' Mirabel said calmly. ‘Everything is covered in mud.'

‘It's where he hid the things he stole from my house,' Wiley said, floundering.

‘Nonsense.' Mirabel picked up a rusty horseshoe, covered in mud. ‘Daniel is a mudlark, and I'd be prepared to stand up in court and swear to that, if necessary.'

‘Of course she'd say that. She's the daughter of a murderer and a thief.' Wiley stood back, folding his arms across his chest. ‘They're all in it together, if you ask me.'

‘This man is a known troublemaker, constable. I'm sure you've met many men like him in the course of duty.' Mirabel met the young policeman's worried glance with a smile, and his cheeks heightened in colour.

‘It looks as though you were mistaken, sir,' he said, turning to Wiley. ‘There's no case to answer here.' He tipped his helmet to Mirabel and descended to the pavement. He ignored Wiley's protests and walked off with a measured tread.

‘What's the matter with you, Wiley?' Mirabel demanded. ‘Why are you always trying to make trouble for me?'

‘Mary Flitton told me what goes on in your household. She said you was trying to prove I don't own the house.'

‘What I do is no business of yours, Wiley.'

‘Hoity-toity, but you'll change your tune. By the time I've finished with you you'll wish you'd never crossed the path of Septimus Wiley.'

‘Why are you doing this? My father treated you well.'

‘He treated me like a servant. I was as good as him, or better. I never killed no one so that I could get my hands on their business.'

‘Neither did Pa. It's a wicked lie.'

Danny had been subdued and silent until that moment, but now he pushed past Mirabel, and squared up to Wiley. ‘Let me bash him, missis. I'll put his lights out.'

‘Don't make threats you can't keep, boy,' Wiley growled. ‘I could beat you with one hand tied behind me back.'

‘No one is going to beat anyone,' Mirabel said hastily. She stepped between them. ‘This has to stop now, Wiley. Go back to Mrs Flitton and tell her from me that I thought she was a better person, but it appears that I was mistaken.'

‘You can tell her yourself if you can find the old baggage. I sent her packing as soon as I'd got what I wanted from her, just as I did with your pa's widow. D'you really think that Septimus Wiley would burden hisself with old women like those two when he can get any amount of totty free for the asking?'

‘You are a disgusting man.' Mirabel went inside and slammed the door in his face.

Edric emerged from the study. ‘I heard all that. Say the word and I'll sort him out, Mirabel. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.'

She shook her head. ‘Thank you, but I'll do this my way. I've been concentrating too much on the business, and to be honest I thought Wiley had moved on, but now I know to the contrary. Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll go and see my solicitor. I'll put a stop to Wiley's bullying once and for all.'

 

Mr Yardley was in the process of hanging his overcoat on a stand in the corner of his office when Mirabel burst into the room. His startled expression brought her to a sudden halt. ‘I'm sorry to arrive so early and without an appointment,' she said breathlessly. ‘But I'm desperate to know the contents of my late father's will. Have you managed to get a copy?'

‘This is rather irregular, Mrs Kettle.' Taking off his scarf, Yardley draped it carefully over the arm of the coat stand before taking his place behind his desk. ‘May I ask why the sudden urgency?'

‘Septimus Wiley destroyed Hubert's orchid collection and now he's doing his best to make my life as difficult as he can. He won't be happy until he's ruined me.'

‘Can you prove that he was the perpetrator of the criminal act?'

‘No. That's just the trouble. He wheedled his way into the house in my absence by paying court to our housekeeper, a middle-aged widow who believed that he intended marriage.'

‘I see.' Mr Yardley opened a drawer in his desk and took out a bundle of documents bound with red tape. ‘These came yesterday and I haven't had time to sort through them.' After a brief scrutiny he selected one, and handed it to Mirabel. ‘This is the last will and testament of Jacob Cutler.'

Mirabel's hands shook as she opened the document. The copperplate handwriting danced before her eyes but the intent was clear. ‘Pa left everything to me.' Her voice broke on a sob of relief. ‘There's no mention of Ernestine, Wiley or anyone else.'

‘So this man Wiley has taken your inheritance under false pretences. That's a serious offence. Do you wish to pursue this matter through the courts?'

‘Most definitely. Do what you must, Mr Yardley.'

Having left matters in the hands of her lawyer, and secure in the knowledge that Cutler's Castle belonged to her and might be used as collateral, Mirabel decided to risk investing in another, larger vessel. Alf was learning fast and Edric reckoned that he would soon be able to handle the
Beatrice
and take the anglers to fish for perch, which was in season from May until March, and much prized as a breakfast fish by those in the know. Mirabelle herself preferred a boiled egg or toast and marmalade, but there was no accounting for taste. Danny and Pip, Alf's two eldest sons, were keen to work the river and Mirabel had given them every encouragement. It would be good to keep it within the family, for that was exactly what they were now. The children, from little Kitty upwards, accepted her as a much-loved aunt, and she returned their affection unreservedly. Gertie had taken on the role of elder sister as well as a friend to Tilda and the younger children. Between them, the two girls ran the household leaving Mirabel free to concentrate on the business. She devoted all her time and effort into creating something that was both lucrative and lasting.

Christmas was a rowdy, joyful affair in a house filled with young people, and Mirabel invited Edric and Beatrice together with their brood of children to join them on Christmas Day. There were presents under the tree for everyone and Beatrice went downstairs to help Mirabel and Gertie in the final stage of preparing the turkey with all the trimmings. A near fiasco had been averted when, several weeks before Christmas Gertie had attempted to make the puddings. Everyone had had a stir of the mixture and a wish, and all had been going well until the cloth binding the mixture had split in the copper resulting in a sloppy mess of ruined ingredients. Gertie had broken down in tears, refusing to be comforted until Mirabel promised to take a cab to Piccadilly and purchase a fresh supply from Fortnum's.

The meal itself was a triumph, everyone said so, and Edric proposed a toast to the cooks. The older children raised their glasses of watered-down wine and the younger ones were treated to lime cordial sweetened with sugar. Looking round at their flushed, happy faces, Mirabel felt a glow of pride but also a degree of sadness. This was her family and she loved them all but there was a void in her heart and an ache that would never go away. She finished her wine and stood up. ‘I think it's time we opened the presents.'

On the coldest day of January, Alf and Edric came across a vessel high and dry in a boatyard at Limehouse Hole. It had been abandoned by the owner, who had gone bankrupt, and no one had come forward with the money to purchase what appeared to be little more than a wreck. Edric took Mirabel to see the boat, promising her that with a bit of hard work it could be made seaworthy within weeks. The asking price was much less than she had expected, and after some shrewd bargaining she became the proud owner of a sea-going barge, capable of shipping cargo to the continent if required. Even with the cost of the refurbishment, which she decided to have done by the professionals at the boatyard, it was still a good buy, and Edric was delighted.

‘It will be like the old days,' he said, looking up from the shipbuilder's plans. ‘It's not exactly like the brig Jack and I used to own, but it's a start, and we can ship anything from hay to coal.'

Mirabel eyed him thoughtfully. ‘We need an office close to the docks, Edric. Working from home was all very well at the beginning, but now we're expanding we should have premises of our own, and once the new boat is up and running I think we could afford to employ a clerk, so that I can spend more time visiting prospective clients.'

‘You're right of course, Mirabel. You're the one with the business head. Do what you think best.' He straightened up, running his hand through his hair, which he always did when he was not sure of himself. ‘What's happening about Wiley? If he's bothering you just tell me.'

‘I saw him in court, but we didn't speak. He wasn't too pleased when the judge ordered him to leave Cutler's Castle. If looks could kill I'd have been dead on the spot.'

‘Will he go of his own accord?'

‘He was given two weeks to pack up and find alternative accommodation and he's supposed to pay back all the money he's taken. He can't draw any more from the bank,' Mirabel hesitated, frowning thoughtfully. ‘I suppose some of it should go to Ernestine as Pa's widow.'