- Home
- Carrie Turansky
No Ocean Too Wide Page 4
No Ocean Too Wide Read online
Page 4
Boys’ voices rose from beyond the fence. Katie looked up, and her heartbeat quickened. Could it be Garth? They’d been separated as soon as they’d arrived at the home, and she hadn’t seen him since. But she’d been told all the boys were housed in the building beyond the fence. When she’d asked Mrs. Hastings if she could speak to Garth, the woman scowled and said, “Boys and girls are not allowed to speak to each other.”
“But he’s my twin brother. Surely there wouldn’t be any harm in letting us talk to one another.”
The woman narrowed her eyes. “Watch what you say, young lady. We’ll have none of your cheeky remarks at Grangeford!”
Katie grimaced at the bitter memory and threw the branches she had collected into the crate. The boys’ voices rose again, calling out to each other. She glanced over her shoulder. No one looked her way, so she slipped quietly behind the shed and studied the tall wooden fence. If only she could look over, then perhaps she would see Garth on the other side.
Just above her head she spotted a small knothole, and a plan took shape in her mind. She crept back around the side of the shed, grabbed one of the empty crates, and tugged it toward the fence. Positioning it beneath the hole, she turned it over and stepped up on top. Leaning closer, she peeked through the knothole.
Several boys raced around the lawn, looking as though they were enjoying a game of tag, while a few others waited on the side. Katie scanned their faces, and her heart leaped. Garth stood about fifty feet away talking to another boy, his arms folded across his chest as he watched the game. He wore unfamiliar brown knickers and a gray sweater and brown cap.
The urge to call out to him rushed through her, but those who disobeyed the rules were severely punished, and she didn’t want Garth to receive a beating for speaking to her. Still, there had to be some way she could let him know she was there.
She bit her lip. Please, Lord, let him come closer.
“What are you doing?”
Katie gasped and turned, almost falling off the crate. “Gracie! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
Grace looked up at her with wide eyes, clutching her pile of sticks. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s all right. Come here.” Katie held out her hand.
Grace dropped the sticks and climbed up on the crate next to Katie. She wasn’t tall enough to look through the hole, so Katie grabbed her by the waist and boosted her up.
Grace peeked through and sucked in a quick breath. “It’s Garth!”
“Shhh! We don’t want anyone to hear.”
“Why not?”
“We’re not supposed to talk to the boys. But let’s see if he comes closer.”
Katie shifted Grace to her hip, and they took turns looking through the knothole, watching their brother.
“Here he comes!” Grace whispered.
“Let me see.” Katie moved into place, and when Garth was only about ten feet away, she softly called his name.
He frowned and looked toward the fence.
“Psst,” Katie hissed. “Over here.”
Garth’s eyes flashed. He looked over his shoulder toward the stone building, then slowly walked toward the fence. “Katie, is that you?”
“Yes! Grace and I are here.”
A smile broke across his face, but then he sobered and turned away from the fence. “I’ll be in deep trouble if anyone finds out I’m talking to you.”
“I know. The matron told me the same thing when I asked if I could see you.”
“Have you heard from Mum or Mrs. Graham?”
“Not a word. Have you?”
“No.” He kept his voice low and his back toward her.
“Do you think Mrs. Graham wrote to Laura for us?”
He huffed. “If she did, why hasn’t Laura come?”
Grace looked up at Katie, and her chin wobbled. “Laura’s not coming?”
Katie laid her hand on Grace’s shoulder. “Don’t cry, Gracie. Laura will come if she can.” She looked through the knothole again. “Do you think Mum is all right?”
Garth turned toward her, a fierce light burning in his eyes. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
Katie froze. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not going to stay here forever, waiting and wondering what’s happened to Mum.”
“Garth, you can’t run away!”
He frowned and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I’ve got to get out of here and see Mum. Then I’ll find some way to get you and Gracie out.”
“But how would we survive on our own?”
His expression hardened. “We’ll find a way. We can’t let them keep us locked up here, separated from each other.”
“I’m sure Mrs. Graham told Mum where we are. She’ll come for us as soon as she can. I know she will.”
Garth’s eyes clouded, and he looked away. The doubt in his expression pierced Katie’s heart. If Garth didn’t believe Mum was coming, how could she?
“Garth, come on!” A boy ran toward the fence and motioned for him to join their game.
“I have to go.”
Katie gulped in a breath. There had to be a way to stay in touch with Garth. An idea popped into her mind, and she poked her finger through the hole. “The next time you come outside, check this hole in the fence. If I hear anything, I’ll leave you a note, and you do the same for me.”
“All right.” He glanced over his shoulder, then reached for her finger and gave it a squeeze. “Take care of yourself and Gracie.”
“I will. I promise.” She sighed as his fingers slipped away.
Grace peered through the hole once more. “Goodbye, Garth.” Her voice wobbled, and she sniffed as she slid down.
Katie leaned in again, watching Garth as he rejoined his friends, then walked back toward the boys’ building. With each step he took, she felt like another piece of her heart was being torn off and tossed away. She climbed down from the crate and released a shuddering breath. For fourteen years she and Garth had never been separated, and it was even longer if one considered their time together in Mum’s womb.
Being sent to Grangeford and made to stay in separate buildings was hard to bear, but at least she had the comfort of knowing he was on the other side of the fence. If he ran away, how would she find him? She couldn’t imagine not knowing where he was and whether he was safe and well.
She glanced down at her sister and pressed her lips tight. She’d promised Garth she would watch out for Grace, and she had to keep that promise. “Come on, Gracie. We need to get back to—”
“Girls! What are you doing?” Mrs. Hastings marched toward them, her face flushed. “Come away from that fence this instant!”
Katie gripped Grace’s hand and stared at the woman.
“Well? Why are you just standing there?”
Katie blinked, her heart pounding so hard she felt like it would leap out of her chest. She couldn’t tell the truth. What could she say?
Mrs. Hastings pointed a bony finger toward the pile of sticks at their feet. “Pick up those branches and get busy with the job I gave you!” She clucked her tongue. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, and we’ll have none of that at Grangeford.”
“Yes ma’am.” Katie shot Grace a quick look, and they both bent down and gathered up the prickly pile of broken branches.
As Katie rose, she lifted her eyes to the overcast sky. Help us, Father. We’ve no one else to turn to.
* * *
Laura folded her gray wool sweater into the suitcase on her bed, then glanced around the sparse room she shared with Millie on the top floor at Bolton. Her eyes lit on the photograph of her family on the small table by her bed. She couldn’t leave that behind. It was the only photograph she had of all the family together. She lifted it off the table and studied the image.
&n
bsp; It had been taken three years earlier, before Dad passed away and before she’d gone into service. Life had been so very different then. She could see it reflected in the peace and contentment on each of their faces.
Mum sat in front with shining eyes and a gentle smile. She’d worn her best dress with the high neck and lace collar. Four-year-old Grace sat on her lap, wearing her ruffled white dress with a large white bow holding back her blond curls.
Dad stood behind Mum, tall and handsome in his black suit and tie, with Garth standing on his right. The top of her brother’s head barely reached Dad’s shoulder. She smiled, remembering how they’d tried to slick down Garth’s dark brown curls, but they’d been unable to keep a few from breaking free across his forehead.
She and Katie sat on either side of Mum, wearing matching dresses and leaning in close, completing the family circle. Her throat tightened with those bittersweet memories. None of them had known how much their lives would change in the next few months.
She sighed and carefully tucked the photograph between the folds of her sweater. It wasn’t easy working so far from her family, but the ties of love and devotion remained strong even though they lived miles apart.
She added her brush and comb to the case, then lowered the lid and snapped it closed.
The door opened, and Millie looked in. “Are you all packed?”
Laura glanced around the room once more. “Yes. I think I have everything I need.”
“Mr. Frasier said to come downstairs as soon as you’re ready to go.”
“Mr. Frasier? I thought he was away on a fishing trip.”
Millie grinned. “I mean the younger, Mr. Andrew Frasier.”
A warning flashed through Laura. “What does he want?”
“I don’t know, but you’d best hurry and not keep him waiting.”
Laura slipped on her coat, then reached for Millie and gave her a hug. “I’ll miss you, Millie.”
“And I you. Take care. Let us know how you’re getting on and when you’ll be coming back.”
“I will.” Laura lifted her handbag and suitcase off the bed and carried them into the upper hallway. She started toward the servants’ stairs, but then changed her mind and turned around. If Andrew Frasier was waiting for her, she would take the main stairs. She didn’t want to risk a chance meeting with him in the secluded back stairwell.
She pulled in a steadying breath and set off. When she reached the lower landing, she spotted Andrew Frasier standing at the bottom of the steps with Mr. Sterling. The stout butler sent her a concerned look. He’d always been kind to her, and for that she was grateful.
Andrew Frasier looked up and smiled. “Ah, Miss McAlister, there you are.” He took his watch from his vest pocket and glanced at the time. “I believe you can catch the three-thirty train to London if you hurry.”
She looked at the tall clock by the fireplace in the great hall as she descended the last few stairs. It was already close to three. There was no way she could walk to the station by three thirty. It took at least forty minutes to reach the village, even if she could keep up a brisk pace carrying her bags.
“Layton is bringing the car around,” Andrew continued. “He’ll drive you to the station.”
Laura stopped at the bottom step. “Oh, no sir. That’s not necessary. I can walk.”
“But if you miss the afternoon departure, there’s not another train until a quarter after seven. I don’t want you to wait at the station that long.” He glanced toward the window. “And it looks as though rain is on the way. Please, let me offer you a ride into the village.”
He seemed sincere, and she’d much rather take a quick ride in the motorcar than a long, damp walk down the road. “All right. Thank you, sir.”
Elsie, the young kitchen maid, came through the doorway at the end of the great hall and hurried toward them carrying a small basket. “Here you are, sir.”
“Very good.” He took the basket. “Please thank Mrs. Lindquist.”
“Yes sir.” Elsie dipped her head and scurried back toward the servants’ stairs that led down to the kitchen.
Outside, tires crunched on the gravel drive, and Laura glanced that way.
“I believe that’s the motorcar now.” Andrew motioned toward the front door.
Mr. Sterling strode ahead of them, across the black-and-white-tiled entry hall, and pulled open the heavy wooden door. Andrew Frasier walked out first and Laura followed. As she passed the butler, he nodded. She gave a slight smile, thanking him with her eyes.
Stepping outside, she looked out across the circular drive to the lawn and gardens beyond. The scent of rain and freshly mown grass floated toward her. She pulled in a deep breath, and her throat suddenly felt tight. It was silly to feel sentimental about leaving Bolton. This wasn’t her home. She was returning to London, where she’d been born and raised. But her family was broken and scattered, and there would be no warm welcome awaiting her when she arrived in town. Her closest friends were here, among the staff.
The chauffeur hustled around the motorcar and approached Mr. Frasier.
“Please take Miss McAlister to the train station.”
“Yes sir.” Layton took Laura’s suitcase and walked around back to strap it on.
Mr. Frasier opened the rear passenger door and turned toward her.
Laura sent him an uncomfortable glance. “I usually sit up front whenever I ride in the motorcar with Mrs. Frasier.”
“She’s not going along today, so it’s all right.” He motioned toward the back seat. “We don’t want you to be late and miss that train.”
Laura slid into the back seat and tucked her skirt around her, though she couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t proper for her to ride in the back like a member of the family.
“Here you go.” He handed her the basket.
She blinked and looked up at him, then accepted the small wicker hamper.
“I’m not sure what Mrs. Lindquist packed, but whatever it is, I’m sure it’s better than what you’ll be offered on the train.”
“Thank you.” She was so surprised that was all she could think to say.
“Mrs. Lindquist is the one to thank, and you can do that when you return.” He took an envelope from his suit jacket pocket and held it out to her.
She stared at the crisp white envelope with her name written on the front. “What…what is this?”
His brown eyes warmed, and his mouth tugged up at one corner. “It’s for you.”
She bit her lip, uncertain if she should take it.
“It’s just a small sum to help you on your journey.”
Still, she hesitated. Why would he give her anything?
“Please, Mrs. Frasier and I want you to have it.”
If his mother was also behind the gift, she could accept it. “Thank you. And please thank Mrs. Frasier for me.”
“I will. Have a safe journey.” He closed her door.
The chauffeur cranked the motorcar, then climbed in up front. The first few drops of rain splashed on the soft roof of the motorcar.
Mr. Frasier lifted his hand, and Laura nodded to him as the motorcar pulled away.
Easing back in the black leather seat, she looked down at the basket and envelope. Why had he gone to all this trouble and been so kind to her? He didn’t seem to expect her to repay him, but she couldn’t be sure. She carefully tore open the envelope and pulled out a sheet of creamy white stationery. When she unfolded it, two crisp five-pound notes fell into her lap.
She gasped and stared at them. Her wages were only four pounds a month since she also received her room and meals. It was an amazing gift that would be a great help to her when she reached London. She looked down at the letter and read it silently.
Miss McAlister, I hope you will accept this small gift to help you and your family during this difficult
time.
It might be small to him, but it would make a big difference to her.
I pray your mother’s health improves soon, and you’ll find your siblings happy and well cared for at the children’s home. Please call on me for any assistance you may need while you are in London. I expect to return to town on 13 April. You may contact me at the office of Mr. Henry Dowd.
Sincerely,
Mr. Andrew Frasier
She refolded the letter and slipped it and the five-pound notes deep into her coat pocket for safekeeping. With this money in hand, she wouldn’t have to worry about how she would get to the hospital to see Mum or how she would travel across town to visit her siblings. Her spirits lifted, but a moment later they deflated as confusing questions and doubts rose in her mind. She must put a stop to these anxious thoughts!
They had faced many hardships before and come through them all. They would find a way through these as well.
She closed her eyes, struggling to form a prayer. She wanted to believe God cared about her and her family, yet she’d prayed for her dad after the accident and the Lord had taken him away. Still, she had to try.
Lord, please heal Mum and watch over my brother and sisters. Help me trust You even though I don’t understand why You allowed this to happen and have no idea what the future holds.
She opened her eyes and stared out the window as raindrops splattered on the glass. She waited to feel a calming assurance or to hear a quiet voice telling her the answer was on the way. But all she heard was the rumbling of the motorcar as it splashed through the puddles and made its way toward the village.
Would He answer and make a way for them all to be together again? That was her heart’s cry…but her fears loomed larger than her faith and quenched the little spark of hope she carried in her heart.
3
“It’s out of the question! I won’t allow it!” George Frasier banged his fist on the library desk and glared at Andrew. “How can you even think of doing such a thing? You are a gentleman, not a money-grasping, middle-class solicitor!”