Nettie’s Secret

Nettie jumped to her feet as the door opened. ‘How did it go, Pa? Did he pay you?’

‘You’d best start packing, my dear. I’m afraid we have to make a move and do it quickly.’ Robert rushed into his studio. ‘We’ll have to travel light, so take only what you need.’

Nettie stood in the doorway, watching helplessly as he began tossing his paints and brushes into a leather bag. ‘What happened? What’s wrong, Pa?’

‘You were right all along, Nettie. Duke has been selling the reproductions as originals and Wegg has reported his dealings to the police. Duke has cut and run and, according to Pendleton, I’d do well to follow suit unless I want to go to prison. I swear I thought what I was doing was legitimate – at least I did until you put doubts in my head.’

‘I know you were taken in by him, Pa. You were always convinced that Duke Dexter was an honest art dealer.’

‘I still find it hard to believe that Duke misled me deliberately. I keep thinking it’s all some horrible mistake, but Pendleton was in the middle of telling me all this when the police arrived. I was questioned by a big burly sergeant, who didn’t seem to believe a word I said. He took my name and address and told me not to leave town.’

‘I did try to warn you, Pa.’

‘I know you did, my love. I didn’t want to think ill of Duke, and I made those copies in good faith, but it seems that Wegg has done his worst. He was determined to ruin Duke and it seems that he’s succeeded.’

‘Think hard, Pa,’ Nettie said urgently. ‘Is there any way the police could prove you were the artist concerned?’

‘I had to leave my painting behind. An expert would soon realise that there are other works in the gallery made by the same copyist, and it won’t take long before the police put two and two together. I’m afraid if I don’t make a run for it, I’ll end up in prison. But you’re innocent and you don’t deserve to be dragged down by me.’

‘That’s nonsense, Pa. We’re in this together.’

‘You’ve stood by me even though you suspected that what I was doing was illegal,’ Robert said with a wry smile. ‘But it’s time you made a life for yourself. I want you to go to your aunt Prudence in Wales. You’d be safe there.’

‘I’d rather be on the run with you, Pa. Aunt Prudence lives on a mountain surrounded by sheep. Anyway, you need me to look after you.’ Nettie went to the dresser and began searching the drawers. ‘Where did I put the passports you obtained for us last year? You remember, Pa. It was for the trip to Paris we never made because we couldn’t afford it.’

Robert pulled a face. ‘Don’t remind me of my past misdeeds, Nettie. That horse was a certainty, or so I thought. We would have visited the Louvre and Montmartre, the artists’ quarter, if that animal had won.’

‘Never mind that now, Pa. I’ve found them.’ Nettie closed the drawer and tucked the documents into her reticule.

‘You’re a good girl, Nettie. I don’t deserve you.’

‘There’s one problem, though. We haven’t any money.’

‘Duke must have a conscience of sorts: he left payment for my last canvas. As luck would have it, Pendleton handed it over before the police arrived.’

‘But you didn’t sign the copies,’ Nettie said slowly. ‘Even experts could be mistaken. If you had a good solicitor you might be able to prove that you knew nothing of Duke’s business deals.’

‘Everyone in the art world knows that I’ve been involved with Dexter for years, and I don’t trust Pendleton to keep his mouth shut. He’ll tell the police anything they want to know in order to save his own skin. I’m afraid there’s no alternative but to leave the country until all this blows over.’

‘Where will we go, Pa?’

‘We’ll head for Dover and catch the ferry to Calais. I don’t know where we’ll go from there. We’ll take it day by day.’

‘I must tell my friends. I can’t leave without saying anything to Byron and the others.’

‘You mustn’t do that, Nettie. It’s not fair to involve them. The less they know, the better. You can see that, can’t you?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Good. Now pack your things. We’ll leave the rent money on the table. I’m not so dishonest that I’d rob an old woman, even a harridan like Ma Burton.’

Nettie experienced a moment of panic as she packed a valise with all her worldly possessions, starting with the manuscript of her rejected novel. Moving in a hurry was nothing new, and leaving rented accommodation had often involved a moonlight flit, but it was the friends she had made in Ma Burton’s house that Nettie would miss the most. She wondered who would help young Biddy when she was at a loss to know how to cope with her invalid mistress. Who would have the patience to mend Madame Fabron’s torn garments? Who would spend hours listening to Ted agonising over his broken romance? Who would play cards with Pip when he was feeling bored, and who would laugh at Byron’s terrible jokes? Leaving Byron was the hardest thing of all.

‘Come on, Nettie. We must leave now.’

Nettie fastened the leather straps on the valise and took one last look around the room that had been home for almost three years. The hunger and cold were forgotten and she could only remember the good times, and the bonds of friendship that she had made and shared. She would miss these two attic rooms in Covent Garden more than she could ever have thought possible. She had made a home wherever they happened to be in the past, whether it was a smart town house or a leaky attic in Hoxton, but leaving here hurt her heart, and going without saying goodbye to those whom she had grown to love was the most painful part of the whole sorry business.

She followed her father downstairs, tiptoeing past the closed doors, but when Robert let them out into the street they came face to face with Byron and Ted.

‘What’s going on?’ Byron demanded.

‘Keep your voice down,’ Robert said in a stage whisper.

‘I’m so sorry.’ Nettie reached out to grasp Byron’s hand. ‘We have to leave.’

‘Why?’ Ted asked. ‘If it’s the rent, we could help out.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Byron added hastily. ‘We’ll chip in, Mr Carroll.’

Robert shook his head. ‘Thanks, but the rent is the least of our problems. Say goodbye, Nettie.’ He strode off, leaving Nettie little alternative but to follow him.

‘Where are you going?’ Byron fell into step beside her. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Victoria Station,’ she said breathlessly. ‘You don’t want to be involved in this, Byron. Please keep out of it, for your sake if not for mine.’ She hurried on, but Byron kept pace with them.

‘I’m not giving up until you tell me what’s happened.’

‘I can’t tell you.’ Nettie broke into a run in an attempt to keep up with her father’s long strides, but she was hampered by the weight of her case.

‘Let me have that.’ Byron took it from her hand, but Robert had come to a halt as he reached the Strand, and he stood on the edge of the kerb.

‘Leave us alone, Horton.’ Robert waved frantically at a passing cab, but it passed by. ‘We have to leave London and that’s all you need to know.’

‘Now I know there’s something seriously wrong.’ Byron laid his hand on Nettie’s shoulder. ‘I’m your friend. If you’re in trouble maybe I can help.’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, but thank you anyway. Please go away and forget about us. We’re leaving the country.’

‘Nettie!’ Robert turned to her, scowling. ‘What did I tell you?’

‘I’m sorry, Pa, but Byron deserves an explanation.’

‘He works for lawyers. He would feel bound to tell the police everything he knows about us.’ Robert raised his hand again and this time a hackney carriage drew to a halt at the kerb. ‘Get in, Nettie.’ He tossed the cases in after her. ‘Victoria Station, cabby.’ He leaped into the cab and slammed the door.

Nettie peered out of the window, raising her hand in a final farewell to Byron.

‘Did you have to treat him like that, Pa?’

‘Yes, I did. And I hope he doesn’t tell anyone where we’re headed, because if the police find out they’ll know we’re trying to leave the country. I wasn’t supposed to leave London.’

‘But you’re not implicated yet,’ Nettie said slowly. ‘It will take some time for the law officers to work out that you made the copies, and it’s Dexter they’re after, not you. Couldn’t we simply move to another town, as we’ve always done, and wait until all this blows over?’

‘This time it’s different, my love. Our previous moves have been to escape my creditors, and the sums owed were relatively small. The police were never involved, but once this gets out I’ll be ruined. No one will ever buy my work again.’ He leaned forward to take her hand in his. ‘But you can still go to North Wales. I’ll give you half the money that Dexter paid me, and you can start afresh with Prudence. She’s not a bad old thing when you get to know her, and she’ll look after you. I know she will.’

‘No, Pa. That’s out of the question. I’ll go wherever you go. Maybe you’ll find your work more appreciated in France. I believe they love artists there.’

‘Let’s hope so, Nettie.’

The last train had left the station some hours ago, and there was nothing they could do other than take a seat in the waiting room. According to the timetable the first train for Dover left early in the morning, and they made themselves as comfortable as was possible on hard wooden benches. One of the cleaners took pity on them and brought them cups of tea, for which Robert tipped her handsomely.

Nettie stretched out and managed to get some sleep, but it was not the most comfortable bed she had ever slept on, and when she awakened to the sound of movement outside it was a relief to stand up and ease her cramped limbs. A train had just pulled into the station, emitting great gusts of steam, and slowly the station came to life. Porters pushed their trolleys along the platform, loading and unloading the guard’s van, and bleary-eyed passengers stumbled towards the barrier, fumbling in their pockets for their tickets.

Nettie shook her father by the shoulder and he awakened with a start. ‘What time is it?’

‘I’m not sure. I can’t see the clock from here, but a train has just pulled into the station. Would it be ours?’

Robert sat up slowly, taking the silver watch from his waistcoat pocket and peering at it in the half-light. ‘It’s half-past five. Our train leaves at six. I’ll go to the ticket office and hope that it’s open.’ He stood up, adjusting his clothing and brushing his tumbled hair back from his brow. ‘Wait here, Nettie. I’ll be as quick as I can.’ He shrugged on his overcoat and made a move towards the door but it opened suddenly and Byron rushed into the waiting room, followed by Pip and Ted.

‘What the hell is this?’ Robert demanded angrily.

‘We’ve come to beg you not to involve Nettie in this, sir.’ Byron faced him with a stubborn set to his jaw. ‘We won’t stand by and see her life ruined because of something you’ve done.’

‘That’s right.’ Ted stood behind Byron, and Pip leaned against the door, preventing anyone from entering or leaving.

‘Get out of my way,’ Robert said through clenched teeth. ‘This has nothing to do with you. Nettie is my daughter and she’s a minor. She does as I say.’

‘So you’ll drag her into a life of poverty in a foreign country, will you? Is that what a good father would do?’

Nettie stepped in between them. ‘Stop this, both of you. I choose to go with my father, Byron. What sort of daughter would I be if I abandoned him now?’

‘I’d say you were being sensible.’ Ted laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘Come back with us, Nettie? We’ll sort something out between us.’

‘Ted’s right,’ Byron added earnestly. ‘You don’t have to do this.’

Chapter Three

‘Nettie, are you going to allow these three idiots to dictate to you?’ Robert edged past Byron and Ted, but Pip folded his arms across his chest and refused to move from the doorway.

‘Stop this, all of you, and that includes you, Pa.’ Nettie reached for her cape and wrapped it around her shoulders. ‘I appreciate your concern, but I intend to see this through. I love my father and I’ll stand by him, no matter what trouble he’s in. I care for all of you, but I know what I must do, so I’m asking you to let us leave without causing a fuss.’

Byron and Ted exchanged weary glances and Pip moved away from the door.

‘Do you know what you’re letting yourself in for, Nettie?’ Byron asked in a low voice. ‘You’ll be in a foreign country, unable to speak the language, trying to eke out an existence on what your father can get for his paintings. If he can’t earn his living honestly in London, how do you think you’ll manage abroad?’

‘I’ve had enough of this,’ Robert said impatiently. ‘Don’t listen to them, Nettie. I’m going to buy our tickets and I want you to take the luggage and wait for me on the platform. Our train will be in soon.’ Robert swept past Byron and Ted, elbowing Pip out of the way as he left the waiting room.

Nettie faced them with a tremulous smile. ‘Don’t think I’m not grateful, but you must see that I have no choice. I’ve been looking after Pa since I was a child, and he needs me even more now.’

‘He’s using you, Nettie,’ Byron said urgently.

‘Maybe, but that doesn’t alter the fact that he’s my father and I have to stand by him.’

‘If you say so.’ Ted gave her a hug. ‘But I’ll miss you, Nettie. Who’s going to listen to me when I get so miserable that I feel like crying?’

‘You’ll get over her in time.’ Nettie returned the embrace. ‘You deserve someone much nicer than Pearl. I won’t forget you, Ted.’

‘We’ll all miss you.’ Pip managed a smile. ‘Look after yourself, Nettie.’ He picked up Robert’s luggage and took it out onto the platform, leaving Nettie and Byron facing each other.

‘I suppose nothing I say will make you change your mind?’

‘Don’t make this even harder than it is, Byron.’

He brushed her cheek with a kiss and turned away. ‘I’ll go now. I hate goodbyes. Take care of yourself, Nettie.’

She followed him out of the waiting room and watched him stride away, passing Robert, who was returning with the tickets clutched in his hand. He waved to Nettie.

‘Our train leaves in five minutes. We’d better hurry.’

It was still early morning when they arrived in Dover, and after making enquiries, Robert announced that the next ferry was due to sail at midday. This gave them time to have breakfast in a hotel close to the harbour and to rest before the crossing. Nettie sat on the terrace enjoying the warm spring sunshine with only a slight breeze to ruffle the feathery tops of the pampas grass that towered over the neatly kept flowerbeds. The air was so fresh and clean after the soot and smoke of the city, and the scent of spring flowers was sharpened by a salty tang from the sea. Nettie would have been happy to remain here all day, but she had to face the fact that they would be leaving soon and might never return. It was a disturbing thought. She sat back and closed her eyes – the sound of birdsong and the mewling of seagulls was a pleasant change from the clatter of boots on cobbled streets and the rumble of cartwheels, the shouts of costermongers and the porters bellowing at each other in Covent Garden as they went about their work. She was slipping into a deep sleep when she was awakened by someone shaking her shoulder.

‘Is it time to leave, Pa?’ she asked sleepily.

‘It’s me, Nettie.’

She opened her eyes and sat up straight. ‘Byron. What are you doing here?’

He pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘You don’t mean it.’

‘Yes, I do. I hate my job at the law firm. It’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life, and I don’t trust Mr Carroll to take proper care of you.’

‘But I don’t know where we’re going, or how we’ll live.’

‘All the more reason for coming with you. I’m strong and I can earn money doing manual labour, if necessary. I won’t allow your father to drag you into poverty, and I’ve always wanted to travel, so this is a good opportunity. Besides which, there’s something you don’t know about me.’

Nettie gazed at him in amazement. ‘What is it, Byron?’

‘My mother was French. She left home when I was very young and I never saw her again, but my first language was French.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’

‘It didn’t seem important. When I was younger I tried not to think about the mother who’d deserted me, but recently I’ve been considering going to France to look for my French relations. I even have a passport.’

Nettie gazed at him, too stunned to put her thoughts into words. ‘That’s so strange, but how did you know we were here?’

‘The cabby who picked me up at the railway station had taken a fare to this hotel, and when he described the pretty, dark-haired young lady and a much older man, I knew it must be you – or at least I hoped it was – and I was right. Here I am and here I stay. I’ve paid for my passage and I’m ready to go.’

‘I don’t know what Pa will say about this, Byron.’

‘There’s not much he can do about it. I’m free to do as I like, and I intend to travel to France.’ He hailed a passing waiter. ‘A pot of coffee, if you please, and some bread and cheese. I didn’t have time for breakfast.’

Nettie waited until the food arrived. ‘I think my father is in the hotel lounge. I’m going to tell him you’re here, Byron. If he comes upon us together he’ll be angry and the last thing we need is a scene. If the cabby remembers dropping us off here it won’t be hard for the police to trace us and, if Pendleton talks, I don’t think it will take them long to associate Pa with the forgeries.’

Byron had just bitten off a chunk of bread and cheese and he nodded wordlessly. Nettie would have gone anyway, regardless of anything that he might have said. The main thing was to keep her father behaving in a manner that would not draw attention to them, which was difficult for someone who loved being the centre of attention.

It was sad to stand on deck watching the white cliffs fade into the distance, but in some ways it was also a relief, and Nettie began to relax. Her father had been angry at first, but he had been quick to admit that having Byron with them might prove advantageous. Nettie did not enquire further, but she suspected that her father would happily devote himself to his art, leaving Byron and herself to support him.

‘A penny for them?’ Byron appeared at her side.

‘I was just thinking that we’ve done it now. We’re on our way to goodness knows where. It’s not the first time I’ve been homeless, but at least everyone at home speaks English.’

‘Then it’s just as well I decided to join you.’ Byron leaned on the railings, staring at the rapidly disappearing shoreline. ‘I’ll translate for you.’

‘Tell me about your mother. How did your parents meet?’

‘Father was a medical student, and he went to Paris to attend a series of lectures. He was out one evening with friends and they saw a man beating a young girl. They intervened and took her back to her lodgings in a poor quarter, but Father was concerned for her welfare and he returned next day to make sure she was all right.’

‘And they fell in love at first sight. How romantic,’ Nettie sighed and closed her eyes. ‘It sounds like a fairy tale.’ She could see it all in her imagination; it would make a wonderful start to her next story.

‘Not really. It didn’t have a happy ending,’ Byron said with a wry smile. ‘I was only four when my mother left home. I remember her putting me to bed one night, and I can still smell her perfume when she kissed me and told me to be a good boy. She was gone next morning and I never understood why she had deserted me.’

Nettie reached out to lay her hand on his. ‘Byron, that’s so sad. It’s amazing that you still remember how to speak her native tongue.’

‘We always spoke in French together, and when I went to school I told my teacher that I wanted to learn the language. She loaned me the books and I studied French on my own. It made me feel closer to Maman.’

‘How brave of you, Byron. It must have been such a difficult time.’

‘I don’t think my father ever really got over it. He never remarried and he devoted himself to his patients in one of the poorest parts of the East End.’

‘He sounds like a very good man.’

‘He was, but he passed away five years ago. I think he died of exhaustion, because he gave so much to others.’

Nettie slipped her arm around his shoulders. ‘I am so sorry, Byron. I wish I could have known him.’

‘It’s all in the past, but you can understand why I have no ties in London, which leaves me free to accompany you and see that you’re kept safe.’

‘And you might find your mother’s family.’

‘Yes. I doubt if I’ll ever see my mother again, but I’d like to learn more about her and why she left us like she did.’ He glanced up at the darkening sky. ‘Let’s go to the saloon. I’m hungry and a cup of coffee wouldn’t go amiss.’

‘I expect Pa’s there already. He’ll probably have found an audience to impress with his tales of his life as an important artist. He likes to tell people that he’s been all over the world, although, in fact, he’s never been any further south than Dover.’

‘Let’s hope there aren’t any off-duty policemen on board,’ Byron said, chuckling.

As Nettie had predicted, they found Robert seated at a table in the saloon, surrounded by an admiring audience.

‘Nettie, my dear. Come and sit down. You, too, Byron. I want you to meet my new friends. I’ve been telling them of our plans to take Paris by storm. I intend to have an exhibition of my latest works somewhere in Montmartre. I haven’t decided the exact location as yet, but I hope you will all come.’

Nettie sat down beside him. ‘Pa, we need to have a serious talk.’

‘I fear that I’m in trouble, ladies and gentlemen,’ Robert said, smiling. ‘As you see I am under petticoat government. I submit, Nettie. What have you to say?’

Nettie felt the blood rush to her cheeks, but the onlookers rose to their feet and shuffled off to their respective tables. ‘Pa, how could you?’ she whispered. ‘That was very embarrassing.’

‘You simply don’t know how to enjoy yourself, my love.’ Robert raised his glass and sipped the wine. ‘What did you wish to discuss?’

Byron took a seat beside Nettie. ‘We’ll be in Calais soon, sir. Have you any plans from there?’

‘We will go where the wind takes us,’ Robert said airily. ‘We’re free now, my boy. Free from the restraints of living in London, and we can live as we please.’

Nettie stared pointedly at her father’s empty wine glass. ‘How many of those have you had, Pa?’

‘Not enough, my darling.’ Robert leaned towards Byron, grinning tipsily. ‘Get me another, dear boy. My throat is dry.’

‘No, Pa,’ Nettie said firmly. ‘This isn’t a holiday. We’re on the run,’ she added, lowering her voice. ‘We need a plan.’

‘I can’t be bothered with details like that. I’ll set up a studio somewhere and make a good living. The French appreciate art.’ Robert leaned back against the padded seat. ‘Wake me up when we get there.’ He closed his eyes and his head lolled to one side.

‘He’s drunk,’ Nettie said crossly. ‘Would you believe it, Byron?’

‘Did you expect anything else? You ought to be used to your father’s ways by now, Nettie.’

‘I suppose so, but I keep hoping that one day he’ll stop acting like a ten-year-old and take some responsibility for his actions. Who knows what sort of bother he’d get into if I deserted him?’

Byron gave her a long look. ‘Your father wants to stay the night in Calais, although if it were left to me I’d suggest we went on to Paris. It would be easier to lose ourselves in the crowded city street, but we need to make a plan and we can’t do that until your father sobers up.’

‘Will you stay with him while I get some fresh air?’ Nettie rose to her feet. ‘It’s so stuffy in here.’

‘You mustn’t worry, Nettie. We’ll sort something out.’

She flashed him a grateful smile as she left the saloon and went out on deck. The wind whipped around her, dragging strands of hair from beneath her bonnet and tugging at her skirt. The sea was choppy and the paddle steamer ploughed through the waves, churning up the water and sending plumes of spray into the air, drenching the unwary. People hurried for the shelter of the saloon or down the companionway to the lower deck where cabins were available for those who could afford to pay extra. Nettie staggered as the vessel pitched and she collided with someone who had come up behind her.