Chapter 7 #2
Amelia shook her head in reluctant admiration. “She changed once for the stage; she simply changed again. A drab wig, some spectacles, a limp, and a shy, lisping manner. It was remarkable, honestly.” Amelia’s fingers stilled. “She only thieved for a few years, but she knows enough to take it on.”
“But you’ve changed our dodges,” I said. “Does she even know about the new privies and constables? And the new stores and shops?”
“No, but it won’t take long to explain it.” From the railway station came a train’s blaring whistle, thinned by distance. Amelia paused with the glass on her lips, letting the sound fade before downing the last sip of whiskey. “Besides, she’s been here a few weeks already, watching you all.”
That pulled me up short and told me plenty. Maggie was shrewd and observant, someone who didn’t rush in without looking about herself first.
“What about your ledger?” I asked. “Will you be giving her that, too?”
Amelia’s mouth twitched wryly. “Oh, she has her own. And Silas Pike was her lover before he became my fence.”
“Oh,” I said, again taken by surprise.
She settled the empty glass between her palms. “I’ve had a good run, and it’s not a bad time for me to step aside. She offered me a fair sum.”
I fell silent. It seemed to me Amelia should be resentful, but that wasn’t her way. She was practical, the least excitable person I knew, and as she often said, she didn’t cry over what was already broken.
“What if we don’t want to thieve for her?” I asked.
Amelia frowned in disapproval. “I’m counting on you to help the others get used to the idea. If you do it, they’ll follow.”
“What about Nell?”
“She stays on as bookkeeper. Nothing else will change.” Amelia reached inside the desk drawer for a cloth to wipe out the glass. “I appreciate your loyalty, Kit, but I’ve made my choice.” The tightness about her lips told me she wasn’t happy with my pressing, so I stopped.
“When will you tell everyone?”
“Soon. Likely early next week.” She replaced the cloth, sliding the drawer silently closed. “Keep it in your pocket till then, yeah?”
Her announcement would release a swarm of rumors like summer gnats. I’d seen it happen before, suspicions and outright lies clabbering the air, murky as a miasma.
But as unshakable as Amelia was, this wasn’t the sort of change she would adjust to within an hour.
“Today wasn’t the first she came to see you,” I said slowly.
“No.”
“When was it?”
“Three weeks ago. Soon after her ship landed in Liverpool.”
Three weeks? Amelia had hidden all signs of it. Or I had been too preoccupied to notice.
Amelia replaced the glass in the cupboard. “You know, Kit, she didn’t even know that her mother died. I had to tell her how and when. It was a shock, to be sure, and her brother gone, too. Not to mention how London’s changed. It can’t be easy coming back.”
“Then why did she?” I asked. “Surely she had some sort of life in Australia, after twenty years. Her name changed, so she had a husband.”
“But we’ve no idea what sort of man he was. In her mind, she was twenty years a prisoner,” Amelia reminded me.
“Twenty years,” I echoed. “Thieving’s usually only seven.”
“’Twas doubled to fourteen,” Amelia said. “I don’t know why.”
We all knew the usual reasons—carrying a knife or other weapon, teaching another woman to thieve during the dodge, fighting back against the constable at the arrest, showing no remorse, being suspected of a previous theft. Or a judge was simply in a foul humor.
“I don’t know why Maggie stayed the extra six,” Amelia added.
“She might’ve been caught thieving again.
” Dusk had fallen, and she lit the lamp on the desk.
With the burst of yellow flame came the oily smell of kerosene.
She turned the key to raise the wick. “The day she was caught, your mother was her jenny at the shop—”
“My mother?”
“Yes. Why?” Her expression was curious.
I swallowed down the sudden thickness in my throat. “Ma never told me one of her jennies had been caught.”
“Well, I imagine she hated thinking on it, yeah?”
A chill ran down my nerves as I recalled the way Maggie’s gaze had fixed on me. Had she known who I was? I resembled my mother, to be sure. Did Maggie blame Ma for her arrest? I could easily imagine my mother turning on her jenny if it served her.
“My mother got away,” I said, my voice wary.
“O’ course.” Amelia turned up a palm. “Maggie would’ve made sure of that.
Annie ran all the way here to tell Patty, who raced off in a cab, but it was too late.
Maggie was already in gaol, and she was tried before Patty could do anything to change the verdict.
Back then, they put women thieves on a prison ship quick as they could.
” With the oil warmed, the lamplight flared up the glass chimney, and Amelia lowered the wick.
“The important thing is, she’s back and I want you to get on with her. It’ll be for the best. All right?”
I swallowed. “It won’t be the same without you.”
“No. And you don’t like change.”
It felt like an accusation, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “No one does.”
“You more than most.”
“Because in my experience, when things change, they get worse.” It came out snappish.
Pain flickered in her eyes. “Well, this will be a change for all of us.”
Her most of all.
Ashamed of my own whining, I reached across the desk by way of apology. “We’re all loyal to you. Let us know where you are. We can visit.”
“I know.” Amelia touched her fingertips briefly to the back of my hand. “Remember, Kit, not a word to the others. Not even Mary or Sarah, yeah? I want to tell everyone at once, myself.”
“I promise.”
Slowly I started downstairs, considering.
Parts of Amelia’s explanation rang true.
It was Maggie’s mother’s ring. She had every right to return and claim it.
Still, there was something in Amelia’s demeanor that was at odds with her words.
The edges didn’t align neatly. They puckered as I tried to fit them together.
I couldn’t help worrying that Maggie’s arrival would cause trouble, and not just for the ring.
Amelia didn’t seem to suspect my mother of betraying Maggie, but she didn’t know Ma the way I did.
Ma might’ve felt jealous of Maggie, or wanted to save herself, or perhaps she’d seen something to be gained.
If Maggie had discovered my mother tagged her in the shop or turned Queen’s evidence, wouldn’t Maggie take it out on me?
That was one trouble. The other was I would miss Amelia terribly.
The thought of her leaving trenched up an old sadness that billowed like a stretch of fabric thrown wide.
I paused on the landing to fold it back down into something small enough to cram in a pocket as I left the inn and made my way into the busy street.