The Ragged Heiress Page 10

  Nurse Hastings turned away abruptly, clearing her throat. She snatched up the package and made an attempt to untie the string, but when the knots proved stubborn she tore at the greasy brown wrapping. ‘Well,’ she said, wrinkling her nose as she pulled out some grubby-looking undergarments and a blouse that might once have been white but was now yellowed with age and frayed at the cuffs, followed by a linsey-woolsey skirt that had also seen better days. ‘Looks like they bought this stuff from a stall in Petticoat Lane or a dolly shop in Hoxton.’

  Lucetta fingered the coarse calico chemise and the odour of stale sweat emanating from the material made her feel sick. ‘This can’t be mine, Mary. I’m certain I’ve never worn such a garment in all my life. It doesn’t smell like me.’

  ‘Perhaps you’ll find something more suitable to wear when you get home,’ Mary said hopefully. ‘I expect they tried their best, but they’re only men, poor things.’

  Despite an overwhelming feeling of foreboding, Lucetta allowed Mary to help her dress, but the stays appeared to have been made to fit a much larger person and had to be discarded. The chemise hung off her like a shroud, as did the blouse, and the skirt trailed on the floor, threatening to trip her each time she took a step. Mary begged some pins from Sister Demarest and spent a good ten minutes on her knees taking up the hem. ‘I’ll grant that you’ve lost weight since your illness,’ she said, clambering to her feet, ‘but you can’t have shrunk four inches in height. I think your brothers have got some explaining to do, Daisy.’

  ‘It’s simple,’ Stranks said, eyeing Nurse Hastings as if he could cheerfully throttle her. ‘Our sister’s clothes were all lost when the ship went down. We had a bit of a rush to find her something to wear, but our little Lucy will have nothing but the best when we get her settled at home.’ He hooked his arm around Lucetta’s waist. ‘Come along, ducks. Lennie’s gone to find a cab. We’ll have you home safe in no time at all.’

  Fighting back tears, Lucetta turned to Mary who was standing side by side with Dr Harcourt. ‘Thank you both for looking after me. I might have died but for your care.’

  Giles Harcourt smiled, shaking his head. ‘You are made of stronger stuff than that, Daisy.’

  ‘She ain’t Daisy,’ Stranks said belligerently. ‘It’s Miss Guthrie to you. Miss Lucy Guthrie.’

  Giles acknowledged this intervention with a stiff nod of his head. ‘I beg your pardon.’ He turned to Lucetta with a shy smile. ‘Goodbye, Lucy, and good luck.’

  ‘Here, what d’you mean by that, mate?’ Stranks demanded, pushing Lucetta aside and squaring up to the doctor. ‘Ain’t we good enough for your little Daisy?’

  ‘I meant no disrespect, sir.’

  ‘It’s just a manner of speaking, Mr Guthrie,’ Mary said hastily. ‘We always wish our patients the best of everything when they leave our care.’

  Lucetta gave her an impetuous hug. Parting from Mary was physically painful. She had come to think of her as a friend. ‘Goodbye, Mary. I will miss you.’

  ‘Come and see me when you are settled,’ Mary said tearfully. ‘I stay in the nurses’ home when I’m on night duty, so I’m quite easy to find.’

  Stranks caught Lucetta by the arm. ‘Come on, Lucy. I’m taking you home, girl.’

  Chapter Seven

  The cab ride seemed to last forever. Squashed in between Stranks and Guthrie, Lucetta could scarcely breathe. Their body odour mixed sickeningly with the foetid smell of the second-hand clothes that she had been forced to wear. Worse still, her skin had begun to itch and she suspected that the garments harboured fleas. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she demanded.

  ‘Shut your trap,’ Stranks muttered, staring straight ahead.

  Lucetta turned to Guthrie, sensing a more sympathetic soul. ‘Who are you really? I’m sure I would remember you if you were my brother.’

  ‘I said shut up,’ Stranks roared before Guthrie had a chance to answer. ‘One more word from you and you’ll feel the back of my hand across your chops.’

  Lucetta sank back against the leather squabs, her worst fears realised. Whoever these men were they could not be related to her. How they knew her, or what they wanted from her, was a mystery. She was trapped, helpless and terrified. Whatever they planned for her, she was certain that they were up to no good. She considered throwing herself from the moving vehicle, but she was wedged firmly between them and there was nothing she could do other than bide her time. At least she had someone on her side. She knew that she had one friend in London, and when the opportunity arose she would escape and make her way back to the Fever Hospital and find Mary. She closed her eyes, blotting out the view of the busy streets as they flashed past the cab.

  Lucetta awakened with a start as the cab came to an abrupt halt, and her hand flew to her mouth as the smell of the river almost choked her, conjuring up terrifying visions of darkness and panic. She could feel the cold waters of the Thames closing over her head. She couldn’t breathe. She was drowning. The memories of that dreadful night began to surface through the haze that had dulled her mind during her fever. ‘The ship,’ she cried. ‘It sank. People were drowning—’

  Stranks clamped his hand over her mouth and he held her to his side, squeezing her until she could hardly breathe. ‘Stop that noise or I’ll break your neck.’

  ‘He means it, girl,’ Guthrie whispered. ‘Best do as he says.’

  Stranks thrust some coins into Guthrie’s hand. ‘Pay the cabby.’

  Lucetta struggled, but Stranks only tightened his hold. ‘One word from you and it’ll be your last.’ He waited until Guthrie had clambered down from the cab before lifting Lucetta bodily from the vehicle. ‘She’s been ill,’ he remarked conversationally to the cabby. ‘Poor girl had typhoid. Nasty disease, but she’s on the mend now. Let’s get you inside, ducks.’

  Lucetta opened her mouth to cry for help but Stranks tossed her over his shoulder and suddenly her world was upside down. The cobblestones swam before her eyes and she almost bumped her head on the top step as Stranks descended into the gloom of the foul-smelling area that led into the basement. Guthrie had gone on ahead and Lucetta heard the grating of a key in a lock followed by the groan of a door opening on rusty hinges. Her view of slime-encrusted stone steps and cracked flagstones gave way to dusty wooden floorboards speckled with mouse droppings and empty carapaces of dead cockroaches. ‘Put me down,’ she demanded, beating her fists against the back of Stranks’ legs.

  He dropped her unceremoniously onto a pile of filthy sacks. ‘Lock the door, Lennie, and give me the key. We don’t want our little investment to wander off and get lost in the wicked city.’

  Guthrie did as he was told, handing the key to Stranks with a deprecating grin. ‘We done it, Norm. We got our pot of gold.’

  ‘Not quite,’ Stranks said, slipping the key into his pocket. ‘We got to convince her family that she’s alive and well and worth the ransom money.’

  Lucetta made a vain attempt to get to her feet but the room spun dizzily around her and she sank back onto the sacks. She clutched her hands to her forehead as the cries of drowning people filled her ears. ‘The ship was in a collision – I remember it now. The smell of the river brought it all back to me. I must find Mama and Papa. Were they rescued too? You must take me to them. They will pay you for your trouble.’

  ‘Mama and Papa.’ Stranks mimicked her girlish voice. ‘They’re dead and gone, ducks. You’re an orphan, but you’re a rich one. We should get a lot of money for you.’

  ‘No!’ Lucetta cried. ‘No, I don’t believe you. You’re lying.’

  Stranks made a move towards her, fisting his hands. ‘No one calls Norman Stranks a liar.’

  ‘Leave her be,’ Guthrie said, grabbing him by the arm. ‘She’s just a slip of a girl.’

  Stranks shook off his restraining hand and he leaned towards Lucetta, thrusting his face close to hers. ‘You’d better believe me, Miss Lucetta Froy, because you are coming into a fortune and your loving aunt and uncle are going to pay han
dsomely for your return.’

  ‘I know you now,’ Lucetta said slowly. ‘You’re the escaped convicts.’

  Stranks grabbed her by the throat. ‘And there’s no search party looking for you now, girlie. As far as the world is concerned you’re dead along with your mum and dad and the rest of the passengers and crew.’

  Lucetta huddled against the damp brick wall, turning her head away from the disgusting stench of his foetid breath. She did not want to believe him, but in her heart she knew that what he said was true. The horror of the shipwreck was slowly coming back to her, and she knew that Stranks was speaking the truth. Neither of her parents would have been able to survive for long in the water. Her past life flashed before her as if she too were drowning, not physically, but in sorrow. She had been desperate to regain her memory while she was in hospital, but now she wished wholeheartedly that it had not returned. She longed for the oblivion of fever to wipe away the pain of losing both parents in such a tragic way. She hung her head, not wanting her captors to see the tears that coursed down her cheeks.

  ‘That’s shut her up,’ Stranks said triumphantly. ‘Let’s get out of here, Lennie. I could do with a drink after all this.’

  Guthrie eyed Lucetta warily. ‘Should we leave her like this, Norm? I mean she’s just come out of hospital. We don’t want her to get sick again.’

  ‘Stop acting like an old woman,’ Stranks said impatiently. ‘She’ll be all right for an hour or two. Maybe a spell on her own with the rats and mice for company will quieten her down a bit.’ He made for the door and unlocked it. ‘You’d best behave yourself, girl. There’s no way out, so save your strength. C’mon, Norm. Don’t stand there like a fool.’

  ‘I’m coming,’ Guthrie said, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around Lucetta’s shoulders. ‘We’ll bring you back something to eat and drink.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I ain’t forgotten how you looked after me in that bloody jungle. I might have lost me leg if it weren’t for you.’

  Stranks wrenched the door open. ‘If you don’t come now I’ll lock you in with your little friend.’

  ‘Leave it out, Norm,’ Guthrie said, limping across the floor to retrieve his walking stick. ‘She’s just a kid.’

  Stranks’ reply was lost as the door closed on them. Lucetta threw Guthrie’s jacket off in disgust at the mixed odours of stale tobacco, beer and sweat, but it was cold in the basement and she was still very weak. Reluctantly she picked up the garment, which still retained some of Guthrie’s body heat, and she draped it around her shoulders. The coarse material scratched her skin but as warmth began to seep into her chilled bones she felt strong enough to stand. Getting to her feet she walked slowly round the dingy room, peering into dark corners where fungi sprouted from the damp walls, and moss grew in cracks on the flagstone floor. On the far wall there were two wooden beds with straw-filled palliasses and coarse woollen blankets left in untidy heaps. A rickety deal table in the centre of the room was streaked with snail trails of dried gravy where the resident rodent population had carried off the remnants of a meal, and the dirty plates were thick with flies.

  Wrinkling her nose, Lucetta picked up a chipped enamel jug, hoping that it might contain water, but a cloud of blowflies rose angrily from the sticky puddle of sour ale at the bottom and she dropped it with a cry of disgust. She was hungry and thirsty and she was still very weak. She walked slowly to the window but it was barred against intrusion from outside. The panes were thick with grime both inside and out and festoons of spiders’ webs hung like curtains from the beams above her head. She could see daylight through the railings on top of the area wall, but little else. She tried the door in the vain hope that Stranks had forgotten to lock it, but it held firm. She was a prisoner, and there was nothing she could do about it. Beyond tears, and overcome by sheer exhaustion, she stumbled over to one of the wooden cots and lay down, covering herself with a tattered blanket which smelt suspiciously of horses. Her mouth was dry and her head ached miserably, but she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

  It was pitch dark when she opened her eyes, awakened by the sound of loud voices and drunken laughter as Stranks and Guthrie barged into the room. She stiffened, hardly daring to breathe.

  ‘Light a candle for God’s sake, Lennie,’ Stranks muttered in a voice thickened by drink.

  ‘Hold on a minute, Norm. I can’t find the vestas.’

  A tin plate fell from the table hitting the flagstones with a resounding clatter and Guthrie swore beneath his breath. Lucetta huddled beneath the blankets, waiting for inevitable discovery when Guthrie eventually managed to strike a match. After several attempts he succeeded and Stranks swore loudly. ‘Hold the damn candle up, Lennie. Where’s the little bitch gone?’

  Guthrie raised the candle above his head and he chuckled. ‘She’s made herself comfortable, mate. Over there.’

  Stranks tottered over to stand beside the bed, glaring down at Lucetta with his square jaw out-thrust. ‘Get up. You ain’t a little princess now.’

  ‘Leave her be,’ Guthrie said mildly. ‘She ain’t doing no harm.’

  ‘It’s your bed she’s taken, mate,’ Stranks muttered. ‘You can sort her out.’

  Lucetta pulled the covers up to her chin. ‘I’m not sleeping on the floor, and if I die in this dreadful place you won’t get a penny from my family.’

  Stranks raised his hand, scowling. ‘Shut up. You’ve got too much to say for yourself.’

  ‘Never mind her,’ Guthrie said, wiping one of the plates on his sleeve. ‘Come and get your grub.’

  ‘All right, but she can go without. She won’t be so cocky when her belly is empty.’ Stranks turned away from Lucetta and scuttled crabwise over to the table. He slumped down heavily on a stool, and snatching a meat pie from its wrapping of newspaper he sank his teeth into it, munching noisily and smacking his lips as he gobbled the food.

  ‘She’s right though, Norm,’ Guthrie said, chewing thoughtfully. ‘We need to keep her in good health if we’re to get the ransom money. Starving her ain’t the answer.’ Ignoring Stranks’ muttered protests he put a slice of pie and a generous helping of pease pudding on a plate, and heaving his bulk from the stool he limped over to Lucetta. ‘Get this down you, girl, and no turning your nose up at good vittles, because it’s all you’re getting.’

  Lucetta struggled to a sitting position and took the plate from him, trying to forget that not so long ago it had been a skating rink for flies. ‘Thank you. Could I have something to drink, please?’

  ‘Would your ladyship like champagne or claret?’ Stranks muttered through a mouthful of pie.

  Guthrie went back to the table and filled a mug with ale. ‘You’ll have to make do with small beer, Lucy. The water in these parts will kill you.’

  ‘If I don’t do it first,’ Stranks said darkly. ‘You’re turning into a real old woman, Lennie. Sit down and eat, for God’s sake.’

  Guthrie resumed his place at the table. ‘It weren’t her fault we was caught, and she was good to me in the jungle. I don’t forget a favour.’

  ‘That’s it. I knew you was turning soft.’ Stranks thumped his hand down on the table top. ‘We’re off to Islington to start negotiations with the family first thing in the morning. The sooner we get rid of her, the better.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Guthrie agreed enthusiastically. ‘We’ll be rich, Norm. We’ll live like lords for the rest of our naturals.’

  After the bland hospital diet the meat pie lay heavily in Lucetta’s stomach and her captors’ combined snoring made the rafters shake, but despite this she managed to sleep reasonably well on Guthrie’s palliasse. He had retired to the pile of sacks and Stranks was so drunk that he collapsed insensible on his bed without any further arguments. She was awakened by what she thought at first was the sound of torrential rainfall, but when she opened her eyes she was horrified to see Stranks relieving himself in a bucket placed in the far corner of the room. The stench of strong urine laced with alcohol made her feel physically sick and she pu
lled the blanket over her head. She covered her ears with her hands, but moments later the covers were dragged from her head and she looked up to see Stranks bending over her with a knife clutched in his hand.

  ‘Scream and I really will slit your pretty throat,’ he hissed, cutting a lock of her hair with one swipe of the blade. He held it up to the daylight that filtered hazily through the windowpanes. ‘This should be enough to convince your family that you’re alive and kicking.’

  Lucetta raised herself on one elbow. She was trembling with fear but she was desperate to escape from this hellish place. ‘Why should they believe you? Take me with you so that they can see I am alive.’

  ‘Do you take me for a fool? They’d set the coppers on us straight away. While we got you prisoner they won’t take no chances. Ain’t that right, Lennie?’

  Guthrie rose from the sacking, stretching and groaning. ‘Another night on that bloody floor and I’ll be crippled. Let’s get on to it right away, Norm. The sooner she’s back with her folks the better for all of us.’

  Lucetta watched them leave with a feeling of relief tinged with a certain amount of trepidation. She did not relish the idea of being left on her own in the bleak basement room for any length of time. She crawled out of bed and, as there was no alternative, she was forced to make use of the bucket in the corner. She could hardly believe she had sunk so low, but the will to survive was stronger than her fear of what the future might hold. She comforted herself with the knowledge that Uncle Bradley and Aunt Eliza would be certain to pay the ransom demanded by her kidnappers. Uncle Bradley would complain, as he always did when he had to part with money, and Aunt Eliza might be a bit put out to have her niece foisted on her, but they were family and Papa had always said that families must stick together. Hopefully Stranks and Guthrie would return with good news. She would just have to put up with this awful place for a while longer.