Emerald Star (Hetty Feather) Read online

  It turned out to be fish soup. The meals here seemed to consist of little else. It made my stomach turn over, seeing all the bits of head and tail simmering in the pan. It was like boiling up a bowl of goldfish.

  When it was piping hot, Father poured out three bowls. He and Ezra started eating with gusto, Father with a spoon, Ezra picking his bowl up in two hands and slurping eagerly. I sipped a few mouthfuls of liquid cautiously, and nibbled at the odd chunk of carrot and potato.

  ‘Eat up, Hetty! You need to get some meat on your bones – though Evie was always so little and light. I could pick her up one-handed, she was that dainty.’

  I wondered if he were comparing my lovely little mama with his great surly lump Katherine. He certainly shook his head sadly.

  ‘Did Evie speak of me much, Hetty?’ he asked when he’d wiped round his soup bowl with a piece of bread.

  ‘Not really – because I think it upset her.’

  Father looked even sadder.

  ‘I think it was because she’d clearly cared for you so much,’ I said.

  ‘But she told you of our courtship? We were such sweethearts all one spring,’ said Father.

  ‘You and Mam, Pa?’ said Ezra, wiping his soupy mouth with his sleeve.

  If any of us foundlings had done that we would have been smacked about the head, but polite manners didn’t seem to be a priority in Monksby.

  ‘Not your mam and me, son. That was later,’ Father said awkwardly. ‘I was meaning Hetty’s mam and me when we were younger.’

  Ezra screwed up his face and shook his head, not wanting to hear any more.

  ‘So Evie never told you her true name?’

  ‘She had to be so careful. When she applied for the position at the Foundling Hospital she would have had to choose a false name, Father, don’t you see? If they’d checked the records and found she’d given up her own baby to them they’d never have allowed her to work there,’ I said.

  ‘Did she talk of her own kin folk here?’

  ‘No, never. She just said she had to leave home,’ I said.

  I was starting to panic a little. Had Katherine made him start to doubt me? I also started to think properly.

  ‘So – do I still have kinfolk here?’ I said.

  ‘Evie’s mother died years ago – but her father’s still alive.’

  ‘My grandfather . . .’ I said slowly. It was so strange realizing I had a proper family like normal folk.

  ‘Do you have a father too, Father?’

  ‘I lost mine long ago – he drowned. And two brothers along with him.’

  ‘Oh, how terrible. They were fishing?’

  ‘Out one night when a squall blew up,’ Father said sadly.

  ‘And couldn’t they swim?’

  Ezra spat out his crust of bread in contempt.

  ‘Swimming’s not much help when you’re miles offshore in a squall, Hetty,’ said Father. ‘Mother died six months later, with a bad chest. It was as if her heart was broken.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Father,’ I said, blinking to have discovered four new relations and lost them in the space of thirty seconds. I paused. ‘So my other grandfather – Evie’s father – does he live near here?’

  Father set down his bowl and spoon and set about making a pot of tea. ‘He lives nearby,’ he said shortly, his back to me. ‘But I never see him.’

  ‘You don’t like him?’

  ‘No. And he doesn’t care for me either,’ said Father.

  ‘Then I won’t bother trying to meet him,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m sure I would have detested him anyway because he sent Mama away.’

  Father turned and nodded at me, as if to say, That’s my girl. ‘Eat some more soup – you’ve hardly touched it,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, it was delicious,’ I lied. ‘But I’m full right up now.’

  Father shook his head and offered it to Ezra. The little boy stared at me as if I were mad and wolfed it down eagerly, smacking his lips. Father carried on with his tea-making but he seemed unused to the occupation. He spooned far too many times from the tea caddy to the pot.

  ‘Shall I make the tea, Father? I think you’ll find that will be a little too strong,’ I said.

  ‘We like our tea strong, dear,’ he said.

  He wasn’t exaggerating. He had enough tea in the pot for ten men. I searched for crockery, looking for cups and saucers, but I could only find crude beakers. I found a jug of milk in the pantry and a bag of sugar, but no bowl, and no tea strainer either. Mrs Briskett had taught me how to set a tea tray but I was hampered by the lack of equipment here.

  ‘Let me pour, Father,’ I said, wanting to show him that I knew all the little niceties like holding the pot aloft and adding the milk last. I hoped to impress him, sticking my little finger out the way Mrs Briskett had done, but Ezra sniggered and Father shook his head.

  ‘My, you’ve funny southern ways, lass. We just brew and pour and drink up here.’

  The tea was as thick and black as treacle but Father drank it down thirstily, just as it was. Ezra had a little milk in his and drank it down likewise. I tried with my mugful, but the reek of tea made my head reel, and the few sips made me shudder.

  ‘There’s nothing like a warming cup of tea at the end of a long hard night at sea,’ said Father. ‘I usually smoke my pipe for a few minutes now, Hetty. Will it offend you?’

  ‘No, please go ahead, Father,’ I said.

  He sat in the big chair in the living room, filling his pipe and then sucking it contemplatively. Ezra crawled onto his lap and laid his head on his chest, looking up at him possessively. I wondered what it would be like to clamber on Father like that with such casual adoration. Each time he took a puff of his pipe Ezra put a finger in his mouth and made little tutting noises as if he were smoking too.

  Father ruffled his hair and smiled at me. ‘You must tell me more about yourself, Hetty. Tell me where you’ve been since you left that wretched hospital.’

  ‘Certainly, Father,’ I said, and I embarked on the long tale of my travails. I decided to give him a highly edited version of my time displaying myself as Emerald the Amazing Pocket-Sized Mermaid. I was sure Father would disapprove. But I needn’t have worried. I’d only said a few sentences when his head started to nod. His pipe went out but he still clenched it between his teeth as he slept. After a minute or so he started snoring.

  I tried not to feel offended. He’d been out fishing all night long, poor man, and then he’d had a terrible shock. No wonder he was exhausted. Of course I didn’t mind him sleeping – though I felt he might have made a little more effort to listen to his long-lost daughter.

  Ezra stirred on his lap, gently rising up and down as Father’s breathing grew deeper. I stretched my mouth in a sisterly smile. Ezra stuck his tongue out at me and waggled it violently. I forgot my manners and reciprocated, also crossing my eyes and waggling my hands from my ears. Ezra seemed startled, and slid off Father’s lap. He dodged into the kitchen, took another hunk off the loaf of bread and then was off out of the door, chewing his crust.

  I wondered if I should go after him, but decided he was probably old enough to look after himself. I sat on, staring at Father, scanning his visage for similarities. I ran my fingers over my own small snub and stared at Father’s big straight nose. I fingered my little pointed chin and looked at Father’s blunt jaw. I put my hands to my small ears and peered at Father’s great lugs. I circled my slender neck and gazed at Father’s short, strong neck as it disappeared into his navy knitted gansey. I saw his burly shoulders, his broad chest, his strong legs, his big wide feet bursting out of their old boots. I wondered if he really was my father. I fixed on his red hair, stroking my own as I stared at it. But mine was fine and flyaway, while Father’s was coarse and curled about his head.

  ‘Oh, Mama, if only you were here to tell me true,’ I whispered.

  Was Mama really Evie Edenshaw, the girl that Father still cared for, the girl that Katherine still hated? How would I ever find out? I’d been th