While they waited, Daisy asked, “Who were the people who helped you with the passage?”
“Sam’s friends. My husband’s. He knows just about everyone who ships out of Kingston. They found me a freighter with a few passenger cabins that was going to sail with one empty. The purser didn’t charge me for it. Everyone was so very kind.” Her eyes filled again.
Daisy hoped she wasn’t going to turn out to be a deplorably weepy young woman. With any luck, a good meal would cure her. “It sounds as if your Sam is pretty popular,” she said, as a waitress arrived with a tray. Daisy had intended to have only coffee, but she’d ordered a scone just to keep Martha company.
Though Martha ate hungrily, her table manners were acceptable, thank goodness. The food brought a touch of colour to her cheeks.
When she paused before tackling the second egg, Daisy said, “You came to town by train this morning?”
“Yes, from Southampton. I didn’t know what to do when we landed last night, but some of the fellows took me to a YWCA hostel. And this morning, the purser and the third officer turned up to take me to the station. They’d even had a whip-round for my ticket! The hostel was quite cheap,” she said doubtfully, “but noisy. Is there one in London?”
“Lots.” Daisy didn’t want to pursue that subject for the moment. “Have you absolutely no idea where your husband is or when he’s likely to return to Kingston?”
She blushed vividly. “N-not exactly.”
“Well, finish your meal and you can tell me. As much as you choose.”
Daisy’s scone had somehow disappeared. She really hadn’t meant to eat more than half. She sipped her coffee. “Doesn’t Jamaica produce coffee, as well as rum?”
In response to this apparently innocent question, Martha’s face suffused with pink again. She nodded, her mouth full.
Though Daisy was dying of curiosity, she kept quiet till the last scrap of toast was gone.
“Would you like more? Or something else?”
“No, thank you. I feel much better.” She looked much better, too, her cheeks retaining some of the colour of her flush. “If I tell you about Sam, do you have to tell Mr. Pearson?”
“Not unless it’s somehow related to the viscountcy, to Sam’s descent from Julian Dalrymple. That’s his only concern.”
“Nothing like that. He didn’t even know about that when he left. I didn’t find out about the advert till much later. He signed on as mate on a ship taking a cargo of rum to the Bahamas.”
“For sale in America?” Daisy had considerable knowledge of the rumrunners and bootleggers who defied Prohibition to bring alcoholic beverages to the thirsty hordes. The Fletchers’ next-door neighbours, the Jessups, were wine merchants involved in the business.
“It’s not illegal,” Martha said defensively. “The trouble is, instead of staying with the ship, he decided to go with some smugglers to Florida. His captain brought me a letter when he got back to Kingston. Sam hoped to make enough money to quit the sea and start a business at home. He missed me and the girls, you see. He didn’t think there was much danger. The runners are hardly ever caught, and if they are, the judges and juries in Florida hardly ever convict them.”
“But Sam was caught and convicted?”
“I don’t know! I haven’t heard a word from him since he left Nassau, more than three months ago.”
“You must be horridly worried.”
“I try not to think about it. Whatever’s happened, I can’t let this chance slip without doing what I can. Not only for Sammy.” She patted her belly. “I might have a boy this time.”
“That being so, I think we’d better enlighten Tommy—Mr. Pearson. He doesn’t seem to have noticed that you’re expecting.”
“I thought he was just too polite to mention it.”
“He would have mentioned it to me.” As an added inducement to take the girl under her wing.
Daisy paid the bill and they left. Walking back along the Strand, Daisy decided Martha’s frock, though just about acceptable for the country, simply would not do in town. Besides, she’d need new clothes as her pregnancy advanced. Lucy, Daisy’s closest friend, was the person to consult. A devotee of haute couture, Lucy was always trying to persuade Daisy to dress with more attention to fashion, but surely she’d lower her sights for Martha and suggest what styles were suitable, flattering, and inexpensive.
That was when Daisy realised she had made up her mind. No matter what Alec might think of it, she was taking Martha home with her.
ELEVEN