Beyond the Sunset (6 page)

They studied one another for a moment and when the newcomer didn’t speak, he held out one hand. ‘I’m Zachary Carr. Are you sharing this cabin with me?’

‘Yes. I’m Leopold Hutton, but people usually call me Leo. I don’t like being called Leopold. My mother always calls me Leo, whatever
he
says.’ He blinked as if close to tears at the mention of his mother and looked round. ‘It’s a very small bedroom.’

‘Yes.’ Zachary glanced down ruefully at himself. ‘And we’re both a bit tall for squashing into small places. Which bunk do you want?’

‘The top one.’

‘So do I. Tell you what, we’ll toss a coin for it.’

The other nodded but made no move to take a coin out of his pocket, just waited for Zachary to take the lead.

He lost the toss, so had to make do with the bottom bunk and studied it grimly, sitting on it and bouncing up and down on the hard mattress. He couldn’t imagine how he’d sleep in such a cramped space.

‘I’ve never been on a ship before,’ Leo volunteered.

‘Neither have I.’

‘What did you do before you came here?’

‘Worked in a grocery store.’ He didn’t intend to pretend to be what he wasn’t, so added, ‘I got a job there when I was a lad. I was one of the lucky ones and didn’t have to go into the mill. Have you ever seen a cotton mill?’

‘No. You started work when you were a boy?’

‘Yes, twelve. What do you do with yourself?’

Now the tears did flow. ‘I used to live with my mother. We were happy. Then she married my stepfather and he doesn’t like me to be with them.’

‘Oh. Is that why you’re going to Australia?’

Silence then, ‘
He
said it’d make a man of me.’

‘What did your mother say?’

‘She cried a lot, but she always does as
he
tells her.’ Leo began to sniffle, pulling out a handkerchief and mopping his face. But the tears kept flowing.

Dear heaven!
Zachary thought. He
is
like a child. What’s going on here? He patted the other on the shoulder and it seemed to help because Leo managed to stop crying.

‘Men shouldn’t cry.
He
gets angry if I cry. But I want my mother. When I don’t know what to do, she always tells me.’ He stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket any old how, making a bulge in the beautifully tailored coat. ‘Why are
you
going to Australia? Do you know what to do on a ship?’

‘I’ve been sent by a lawyer to find the new owners of the store where I work. Their uncle died and the store belongs to them now, but they don’t know about it. They’ll have to come back to England.’

He had to explain this a couple more time before Leo seemed to understand. ‘Shall we take it in turns to unpack? I’ll go first, if you like and you can sit on your bunk out of the way.’

‘All right.’ Docile as a pet puppy, Leo climbed up on to the bunk and lay propped on one elbow, watching his companion with staring, pale blue eyes.

Zachary went to work. After placing his precious writing desk cabin on the floor he put his portmanteau on the lower bunk and unpacked his shirts, laying them carefully in the drawer, trying not to crease them. They nearly filled it. It wouldn’t matter if his underclothing got crumpled, he felt, but the shirts would be on view to everyone. He worked awkwardly because when he knelt down, his feet touched the wall of the cabin behind him. He wished he had his mother’s ability to make clothes lie tidily with a few pats of the hand.

All the time Leo watched him, sitting up now with one leg dangling over the edge of the bunk.

After a while Zachary decided he’d done as much as he could. ‘I think I’ll take a walk round the deck. That’ll leave you more space to unpack.’

Leo frowned. ‘I’ve never unpacked anything before.’

‘You can’t leave your clothes in your portmanteau or they’ll get crumpled.’

Still the other didn’t move. Sighing, Zachary took charge. ‘I’ll show you how to do it.’

The relief on Leo’s face was marked, then it was replaced by a frown. ‘I can learn how to do things if you show me a few times. I can. I don’t forget once I
really
know how to do something. My mother says I learn slowly, but I learn well if people will just have patience.’

There must have been some mistake, Zachary decided. How could anyone have sent this lad – and Leo wasn’t really more than a lad, for all his man’s body – out to Australia on his own?

‘Get down and I’ll show you what to do.’ It took a while and Leo made no suggestions of his own, but he tried hard to learn how to fold his shirts, tongue sticking out at one corner of his mouth. As he’d said, it took several times of showing to teach him, but Zachary patiently went over and over it. Such a simple act, folding a shirt, but it had taken all of half an hour to teach his companion how to do it.

After they’d finished, Leo stood waiting expectantly.

‘I’m going up on deck for some fresh air.’

‘Can I come with you?’

Zachary didn’t really want company as he took his bearings, but it’d be like treading on a puppy to refuse. Somehow he had to speak to the steward privately and ask to see the ship’s doctor about Leo. There must have been some mistake. A person like that poor lad couldn’t possibly cope on his own.

Leo thrust his hands deep into his pockets. ‘I wish my mother was here.’

‘Don’t start crying again.’

Leo blinked furiously and managed to keep the tears back.

Up on deck they stood by the rail staring out at the water they were soon to cross. So much water, Zachary thought, and when they left England they’d be out of the sight of land for a long time. It’d be best to keep busy so that time didn’t drag. Mr Featherworth had found out that classes were often held on long voyages and Zachary intended to go to as many as he could. He loved learning new things.

‘My mother cried when she said goodbye,’ Leo said suddenly. ‘My stepfather pulled her away from me. When he brought me to the ship, he said good riddance and don’t come back.’ His thick lower lip stuck out mulishly. ‘I
am
going back, though, to see my mother.
She
said I could one day.’

‘What will you do in Australia?’

‘I’m going to work for a man my stepfather knows.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Will this man be meeting you when we arrive?’

Leo still looked puzzled. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Didn’t anyone tell you what to do when you get there?’

‘My stepfather said I’d soon find out how to stand on my own feet.’ He looked down with a frown as if he took that literally. ‘Do they stand differently in Australia? Where is Australia? I’ve never been there before.’

They talked for a little longer, then Leo lay back and was soon dozing. Zachary slipped out of the cabin and found the steward. ‘I have to see the doctor. It’s urgent.’

‘Are you ill?’

‘No. It’s something else.’

‘Dr Crawford can’t see anyone till after the ship’s sailed unless they’re ill. He has a lot to do.’

‘Can I see the Captain, then?’

The steward frowned. ‘Could I ask why, sir?’

‘It’s about my cabin mate. I’m sure there’s been some mistake. He’s no more fit to go to Australia on his own than a baby is.’

‘Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. I’ll be keeping an eye on him, sir. His stepfather put me in charge of him, paid me well too.’

‘Is someone meeting him at the other end?’

‘I believe so, but I don’t know the details. Not my business, once we’ve arrived. Now, sir, once we’ve left London, we have to go to Portland to pick up the convicts. The Captain and crew are all busy, so I’d be grateful if you’d let us get on with our work.’

Zachary wasn’t satisfied and debated going to look for the doctor or one of the ship’s officers, but he was unused to the way things were run and didn’t like to make a fuss. It wasn’t really any of his business. After all, the stepfather had at least made arrangements to have Leo looked after on board ship and to be met when they arrived in Australia.

Surely the ship’s doctor knew what Leo was like?

3

M
r Featherworth arrived back in Outham on the Tuesday evening, to be greeted by a hailstorm. Wishing he too could spend some time in a warmer climate, he sat shivering in the cab as the horse clopped past the gas lamps that lit the streets in the better parts of town.

He was glad to be home again, feeling satisfied he’d done the best he could for his clients. It was a matter of waiting now and looking after their inheritance, but he felt sure that young man would bring the Blake sisters back safely.

When he went to his rooms the following day, it was his clerk who brought in his morning tea tray, not the office lad, a sure sign that Ralph Dawson wanted to discuss something with him. Well, his clerk had been with him a long time and could be relied on not to make mountains out of molehills, so it usually paid to listen to him. ‘Why don’t you fetch a cup and join me?’

When they were seated on either side of the fire, Ralph said abruptly, ‘Something’s cropped up with Prebble.’

‘Oh?’

‘It looks like he’s been taking the money you sent to Dot and supplying her with food from the shop.’

‘Is there anything wrong with that? You told me he keeps meticulous accounts. Does what he lists seems unreasonable?’

‘No, it doesn’t, but there’s at least one item showing weekly – and every week too – which Dot has never received: a pound of plain biscuits. Miss Blair drew that to my attention when I showed her the recent accounts. She’s going to check them with Dot and will let us know later this morning which items really were given to the maid.’

Mr Featherworth’s heart sank. The thought of dealing with a dishonest employee, perhaps having to dismiss him, made him shudder. If Harry Prebble turned out to be a thief, how was he to find someone to run the shop until Carr returned, which wouldn’t be for seven months or more? What did a lawyer know about the grocery business? ‘I’m sure there will be some reasonable explanation.’

Ralph gave him a disbelieving look.

‘You don’t think so?’

‘I’ve never liked Prebble, sir, you know that, which is why I urged you to find someone reliable to occupy the living quarters.’

‘We need him.’

‘We need someone to run the shop.
He
isn’t the only person who could do it. An older man would be more reliable. We could still advertise for a manager in the Manchester newspaper, as I suggested we do in the first place, if you remember.’

Mr Featherworth wriggled uncomfortably in his seat. ‘A stranger wouldn’t know how things are organised and it’s not for us to make a permanent appointment. That’s the owners’ job. I’d – um – better speak to Prebble, I suppose.’

‘May I be present when you do, sir?’

‘Yes. Definitely. I shall welcome your support. Send a message asking him to call this afternoon at two o’clock. And bring me the information Miss Blair sends as soon as it arrives. Oh dear, dear, dear! What a thing to happen!’

He watched the clerk finish his cup of tea and leave the room. Ralph came from a good family which had fallen on hard times, so hadn’t had an easy life. This had made him wary, a wariness that had paid off more than once in their dealings with clients. Mr Featherworth didn’t know what he’d do without his clerk. But one had to be careful about accusing a man of stealing.

The trouble was . . . Mr Featherworth sighed and admitted to himself that he didn’t really like Prebble, either, not now he’d got to know him better. He’d not have appointed him as temporary manager if Zachary hadn’t been the best man to send to Australia to bring back the heirs.

But surely there would be some explanation for the anomalies?

The
Clara
sailed from London on 11th January, heading for Portland, where it would pick up the convicts who, with their guards and the guards’ families, made up the largest group of passengers. The felons had their own space on the ship and wouldn’t be allowed to mingle with the other passengers, of course.

Zachary stood by the rail, hatless, enjoying the sea breeze lifting his hair. Within minutes Leo came across to stand next to him.

Today the normally talkative lad was very quiet.

‘Is something the matter?’

He shrugged and rubbed the toe of his shoe against the edge of the planking.

‘Tell me,’ Zachary insisted.

‘Someone said it.’

‘Said what?’

‘That I’m a half-wit.’

Zachary didn’t know how to answer that but could see Leo was upset.

‘My stepfather used to call me a half-wit all the time. And it’s true. I can’t even read. My mother tried to teach me and I wanted to learn. I did! Only I couldn’t do it. All I’m good at is looking after horses and animals.’

‘Who said you were a half-wit?’

Leo shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter. I have to walk away when people say it. That’s what my mother told me to do. She doesn’t like me getting into fights, because even if I win, I get in trouble afterwards. So I don’t fight any more.’

What sort of life had this poor creature led?
‘I don’t like fights, either,’ Zachary said carefully. ‘They only decide who’s strongest, not who’s right.’

Leo nodded but it was clear this subtlety was beyond his comprehension. He was in low spirits for the rest of the day and it was noticeable that at meal times he avoided the Gleesomes, so it was likely one of them had insulted him.

Zachary felt a surge of anger. He waited till later, knowing Mr Gleesome always smoked a cigar on deck after the evening meal while his wife gossiped with the other ladies.

Telling Leo to stay in the saloon, he followed the older man on deck. ‘Was it you who upset Leo today?’

Gleesome swung round. ‘What’s it to do with you?’

‘He’s a friend of mine and not able to defend himself.’

‘Mind your own damned business or I’ll report you to the Captain for threatening me.’

Zachary gaped at him. ‘I’m not threatening you. But if you don’t leave Leo alone, it’ll be
me
who’s reporting you to the Captain.’

‘A half-wit shouldn’t be allowed to travel with gentlefolk. What if he attacks my wife?’