Sample

The little girl, standing on the deck of the liner, was filled with apprehension as she watched the quay side growing ever closer. It had been a long, tiring voyage from Ceylon and now as she peered through the gloom of the early morning mist, she shivered and moved closer to her mother to bury half her face in the material of her skirts.

Louisa’s mother sensing her daughter’s uncertainty put her arm around her shoulder,

“Everything is going to be all right dear, I promise. Are you feeling cold?”

Louisa nodded. The cold, dank misty rain seemed to seep through her clothes, her thick woollen coat and dress to her undergarments. Even her feet in her new boots were chilled. There was a sudden movement around her and on the quay as the ship slowly and carefully docked, and the passengers started to get ready to disembark.

It was all so bewildering, the sights and sounds of this land. To the child everything: the Southampton docks with the dull flat buildings and warehouses, and everyone working or just stood around waiting, appeared in shades of grey, black and muddy brown. The smells were overbearing, a mixture of coal dust, rotting fish, and something alien to her, damp wool and cloth. The clothes of the people on the crowded deck and waiting patiently on the quay side for the ship to dock, were sodden with the continuous drizzle.

A sudden inshore wind whipped up the waves lapping alongside the ship, and a gust pulled and tugged at Louisa’s fur lined bonnet threatening to tear it from her long auburnringlets even though it was tied tightly with ribbons under her

chin, and send it over the side into the blackness of the water. Her bonnet her beautiful bonnet. Her mother had had it sent over to Ceylon especially for their return to England. Only weeks before the departure, the arrival of the heavy boots, the bonnet and the matching dark green coat, had added to her growing excitement at the prospect of travelling on a huge ship to a country she’d only heard her mother talk about. But the reality was a lot different to how the six year old had imagined England would be, and the people here, they looked so miserable and cold huddled in coats and mufflers. It was a horrid place, so unlike the land of her birth. Sudden tears filled her eyes and throat, making her bottom lip quiver. Louisa’s thoughts were on her beautiful home with the heat of the sun, the exotic vivid colours of the many flowers, and the deliciously rich and spicy smells. These thoughts gave her a strange feeling of loss and overwhelming homesickness, although the little girl knew it only as a deep feeling of emptiness. But, she hastily wiped the tears away with the back of her hand hoping her mother hadn’t noticed. For Louisa knew how much her mother had looked forward to this moment.

Sarah Mason eagerly breathed in the sights and sounds of the quay side. She was home again. As a new bride of eighteen she’d gone with her husband Alexander to manage a tea plantation in Ceylon ten years before and it had soon become evident that she was unsuited to everything on the Asian continent. Sarah found the climate hard, with it’s mixture of overbearing heat and monsoons. The food was too rich and made her bilious. The flies nearly drove her mad and she was terrified of the many snakes which slithered around the veranda of their bungalow and hid in the darkest corners of the rooms.

She had been prone to such maladies as headaches and a delicate stomach. At times her many sicknesses reduced her to days of tears and meant she’d spent most her time sipping weak tea on a chaise longue in the shade of the veranda, and being fanned by a half naked native wallah. It was a shock to Sarah’s delicate constitution when, after a difficult pregnancy and a long and painful labour, she gave birth to her daughter. Alexander with only a cursory glance at the baby went back to his work, and that

would be how he treated Louisa from then on, with little more than contempt for the child who should have been a boy.

Sarah had hoped that with a child to care for and fuss over, her life in Ceylon would improve, but it wasn’t to be. Her poor health continued, and to her chagrin, Louisa seemed to thrive on the humidity, the noise, excessive heat and the driving monsoons.

Then had come the ‘skirmishes’: the native unrest only miles from their bungalow. And pregnant again, she’d finally persuaded Alexander that for the sake of his unborn son they had to return to England in the closing weeks of l899. It seemed from that moment on Sarah had a surprising new lease of life as she planned for their departure.

Alexander Mason had enjoyed his work, and loved everything about the country. If he’d not had his family to consider he’d have stayed there for the rest of his life. And there’d not just been his family which had helped change his mind. During the past twelve months Anthea, sister of Major Fairchild at the nearby British army garrison and Alexander’s mistress, had started to become increasingly fretful wanting more and more of his time. It had been a very tearful departure on Anthea’s side, but Alexander had secretly breathed a sigh of relief as the liner pulled away from the foreign shores, and before they were half way through the long journey back to England, Anthea had become no more than a fleeting memory. Alexander did have his wife and his unborn son to think of, the safety of them had to be paramount. It never entered his head that he might have another daughter. Sarah prayed nightly that this time she wouldn’t let him down.

Over the months before their departure Sarah and Alexander discussed their new life. With his pay, and a small legacy left him by a maiden aunt, it was decided he’d purchase a mercantile store and living quarters, and with the aid of an agent he was able to obtain the lease on a shop, the stock and a good size house which was attached to the shop premises, in Southport a small, stylish sea side town in the north west of England.

To Sarah, Southport sounded perfect. She’d been born and raised in Hastings on the south coast where she’d met and married Alexander, but it didn’t matter to her where they lived as

long as it was in England. She just knew they’d be happy. She envisaged Louisa and the baby growing strong and healthy living close to the sea with it’s clear fresh air. The children would have English playmates, and Sarah would make friends and join committees and give tea parties. Oh, so very English! No more choking dust and scorching heat with the ragged street urchins forever begging for scraps.

Already she could imagine her husband in the shop talking to his customers and totalling up the profits, while she stitched at a sampler, her children playing happily at her feet.

Alexander, who had been arranging for their luggage to be unloaded, joined his wife and daughter at the rail. He was a handsome well built man of six feet with a ramrod straight back, and almost a military bearing. On this dull November day, his course red hair, moustaches and sideburns added a fiery splash of colour to the surrounding drabness. Whatever his thoughts were on being back in England he kept to himself, but smiled affectionately at his small slightly built wife then, almost self-consciously patted the top of his daughter’s head. An embarrassed flush touched his tanned cheeks and he tugged at one corner of his moustache before he cleared his throat and carefully studied the docking procedure.

Louisa still enfolded in her mother’s skirts, lowered her gaze from the face of her father who she adored. Even at her tender age she knew his feelings for her were only an impatience sufferance. She should have been a boy, then he’d have loved her in return.

Her mother seeing her daughter’s rejection tightened her hold on Louisa’s small shoulders and pressed her against her expanding stomach. She had to let her know she loved her dearly.

But Sarah’s thoughts were only half on Alexander’s current rebuff of their daughter. Again, she tried to rid her mind of the niggling dread which seemed to flood her brain when she was alone. She felt the baby move in her womb, and she sighed deeply. What if this baby was the boy Alexander so badly wanted, wouldn’t that mean Louisa would be pushed even further from her father’s affections? From the moment Louisa had been born

Alexander had hardly bothered to accept her existence. But what if this baby was another girl?

Sarah shook herself to push these disturbing images from her mind, and concentrated once more on the scene around her. She was enthralled by the chaotic hustle and bustle of the docks, with the loud calls as the dockers started to unload. This was mingled with the distant sounds of other vessels in the estuary and the piercing cry of the circling gulls.

“There’s just the train journey, Louisa”, she whispered stooping to kiss her daughter’s forehead. She wanted Louisa to be as happy as she was at this minute, “then we’ll be home”.

Sarah fought to hide the shiver and to quieten her chattering teeth. It was cold. Colder than she’d ever remembered, but she wasn’t going to complain she had got what she wanted. Standing in a line against the rail, the Mason family waited in silence as the gangplank was lowered.

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