Hidden Currents Read online

  Hidden Currents

  Rowena Summers

  Complete and Unabridged

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  A Note on the Author

  Hidden Currents

  The date is 1843; the occasion, the launch of the S.S. Great Britain. Bristol is alive with pageantry, awaiting the arrival of Brunel, the great engineer, and Prince Albert himself. The Stuckey men who helped build the ship now face hardship and unemployment, further humiliated by their womenfolk doing menial work for rich Clifton employers. Poor they may be, but Carrie Stuckey and her friend Elsie have their dreams. Into their lives comes John Travis, a man who represents everything Carrie could wish for but who manages to create conflict between them all.

  A regional saga.

  Chapter 1

  1843

  Only the old men who hung around the waterfront watching the comings and goings of the busy little river tugs, the sailing barges and traders with the same unconcern, were in no hurry for the day’s big event. They were frequently heard to say that it would happen all in good time, and there was no hurrying God or the vagaries of the tide. But for the young and impatient, it felt as though the nineteenth day of July would never arrive.

  When it did, it seemed as if the whole city was on the move from early morning onwards, in anticipation of the celebrations. From the elegant mansions in Clifton, high above the city grime and the tavern filth, to the lowly dockside cottages, few clocks were needed to waken the inhabitants of Bristol.

  The Stuckey family had no problems in tumbling out of their beds, all of them as fresh as summer larks. Sam Stuckey roused his family smartly, knowing there would hardly be a Bristol soul who wouldn’t turn out for the launch of their great ship, and that laggardly stay-a-beds would miss the best of the show.

  Plenty of curious out-of-town folk would be swelling their numbers too. He’d informed them so, with the air of inside information that belied his relatively humble involvement in the day. The most important fact of all was that Bristol was to be honoured by the presence of Prince Albert, who would be arriving by special train from Paddington, with Izzy himself on the footplate.

  Sam’s wife had taken the news with her usual tolerance, but their daughter, Carrie, had been all of a bother when word first got around that royalty would be attending, and he’d had to put her quickly in her place.

  ‘You just get them stars out o’ your eyes, my girl. It’s unlikely that we ordinary folk will get a sniff of either prince or engineer,’ he’d said severely. ‘And even if we do, ’tis a pound to a pinch of pig’s swill that neither will take notice of you,’ he’d added for good measure.

  She’d tossed her long coppery hair then, in the imperious way that was starting to needle him lately. Young girls of barely seventeen years old had no right to look so bonny and filled-out that they were beginning to attract the attention of lusty young men. There were too many foreigners and dark-eyed sailors hereabouts, forever loitering around the waterfront, and usually up to no good once they were ashore from the barges and trading vessels. Sam had expected the prospect of keeping an eye on his pretty daughter to be some time away yet …

  But he put such uneasy thoughts out of his mind for the present, as his family all vyed for their morning space in the narrow cramped house on Jacob’s Wells Hill. It was a far from fashionable area, and although it might not be right in the city’s centre, anyone with sense knew that the waterfront was Bristol’s throb and heartbeat.

  As he collided with one of his tall sons in the crowded parlour, he mildly cursed his defensive thoughts, knowing that the house was becoming far too small for the six of them, and that he’d do better to concentrate on practical matters, however euphoric this day.

  Once they had all eaten a good breakfast of thick dripping toast and tea, he looked his family over, and decided that they’d do. He’d never been one for displaying private feelings, except when his anger was roused. But he couldn’t deny the surge of pride that was deep in his gut for this day, knowing he’d played his part, albeit in a minor way, towards the completion of the great ship that was about to be officially named the S.S. Great Britain.

  Iron lady she might be, and a credit to the great engineer they affectionately referred to as Izzy among themselves, but she’d still needed the skilled hands of carpenters like himself to fit out her beautiful dining room for the likes of the gentry, and fashion the huge length of her elegant promenade decking. He’d relished being part of the task more than any other job he’d undertaken. The refining of raw pieces of timber to something approaching perfection, and the sweet dry tang of sawdust, was in his bones, and in that of his older sons’ bones too. By the time the craftmanship was done, and he held a fine piece of expertly planed and polished wood in his hands, Sam was as stirred as if he stroked a woman’s skin …

  ‘Are we all ready then?’ he said sharply now, to cover the sinful feeling of pride in his own achievements, and the even more sinful stirring in his loins. His May would be more affronted with him than ever if she’d known where his thoughts were straying. And in the morning too.

  ‘Ready as we’ll ever be, Pa,’ his son Frank said, sprawled out on the settle as if this was a Sunday. ‘’Tis all set to be a good day, and too fine to be indoors.’

  His brother turned from fastening his necktie, older and more caustic than the other. ‘You find it easy to forget that the work’s come to an end, don’t you, bruth? We’ve had a good run of work on the ship, but tomorrow we start looking for new jobs.’ Tis a pity we ain’t engine fitters, then we’d still have plenty to do with our hands.’

  Sam frowned, annoyed with Wilf for putting a sting into the day. The ship might look incongruous to some, sitting high out of the water before her engines were fitted, but it also served to emphasise her enormous size, by which men and machines were dwarfed. And to see her eased carefully out of her protective dock into the floating harbour was going to be a sight to savour for years to come.

  ‘We’ll worry about that tomorrow, boy. We want no such thoughts spoiling the day. Now, if the womenfolk have finished titivating themselves, and Ma’s got that basket of pies ready to take with us, let’s get down to the wharf and find our viewing place.’

  ‘Do I look all right then, Pa?’

  Carrie had listened impatiently to the three of them, but she couldn’t be bothered with all this men’s talk of finding new work tomorrow, and she twirled around, sending her thick red-gold curls flying out from beneath the poke bonnet. Her favourite gossamer-light lilac woollen shawl was draped with careless allure around her best summer frock, since Pa had said they must look their grandest for the occasion, and her own secret feelings of vanity were impossible to contain.

  Her mother spoke in her usual level way, just as aware of her daughter’s approaching womanhood as Sam.

  ‘You look a treat, Carrie, but don’t waste your time looking for compliments from your Pa, for you know you’ll get none. Now, you just take hold of young Billy’s hand, and let’s get down to the dock.’

  ‘I don’t need nobody holding my hand,’ Billy complained at once, not so excited at the prospect of
spending hours down at the dockside to submit so readily. Carrie grasped his palm firmly, wincing a little at the clamminess of it, and constantly amazed to know how an eight-year-old could get so sticky without going anywhere or touching anything.

  ‘Yes, you do, our Billy, and you’re to do as I say.’

  ‘I ain’t doing what you say. You’re not my Ma.’

  His reward for his cheek was a swift clout around the head from his father.

  ‘That’s enough of that talk. You’re to stay close to Carrie and the rest of us, and there’s an end to it. Either that, or you and I will stay behind and miss the show.’

  Carrie knew Billy wasn’t yet canny enough to know that wild horses wouldn’t stop their father witnessing the great launching of the wondrous S.S. Great Britain from their vantage-site in Hotwell Road. It was still a miracle to all of them that Sam had managed to purchase admission tickets to the Grand Stand seating area on Ballast-wharf, right opposite the head of the ship. His gaffer, Aaron Woolley, was a close acquaintance of the builder responsible, and had been in on the ticket-issuing early, and therefore able to arrange admission for all the Stuckey family. If Sam had felt a few qualms, wondering if they might feel out of place among the nobs, he’d never let on so to the rest of his family, and they were all too eager now to worry about such things.

  But the thought of having to stay home in disgrace was obviously enough to quell Billy’s arguments, and he merely scowled in silence as they closed the door of the tall house behind them, and began the long processional family walk down the steep cobbled road towards the wharf.

  * * *

  Carrie hadn’t quite known what to expect of today. For weeks now, it seemed, they had seen the erection of stands and bunting, and excited talk about the launch of the great ship had been on everyone’s lips. Triumphal arches linked many of the gabled houses to one another in Bristol’s main streets, and the whole city was now a mass of colour, strewn with flags and flowers and streamers. When the moment of floating the ship out of her dock arrived, there would be bells ringing, guns firing, and bands playing triumphant music. No-one in Bristol, or for miles around for that matter, could be unaware of the achievement that this day celebrated.

  Carrie felt a swell of pride for the part her Pa and brothers had contributed to it. Even if the folk who would be jostling beside her in the Grand Stand didn’t know it, she did. Some of them might even be important. By now, the newspapers were giving ever more garbled reports of the personages expected to be present. Lords and ladies, the posh folk from up Clifton way, and all the city dignitaries … but, of course, none of them could eclipse the presence of Prince Albert and the famous engineer. And as far Carrie was concerned, each was as important as the other.

  As the soles of her shoes rang with a metallic sound on the cobbled hillside, she balked a little at the size of the crowds ahead of her. The Stuckeys were early, but they certainly weren’t the first to take their places. The very air vibrated with noise and laughter, and for a moment, Carrie wondered how those who had never seen the building of Mr Brunel’s ship must feel, seeing the enormous vessel for the first time.

  Living on the steep hill above the very dock where she was built, Carrie had seen the ship take shape from its beginning, and although she didn’t take quite the same proprietorial view of her as her menfolk, she couldn’t help but be stirred by the sight of her. Some said it was a miracle that such a hulk could float at all, but all Bristolians had faith in the great engineer’s ability to prove it.

  ‘Sometimes, Carrie Stuckey, I think you’ve gone daft in the brain over your Mr Brunel,’ her friend Elsie had scoffed. ‘Your head is full of dreams these days. It ain’t as if you’ll ever get to meet him, and much good it’d do if you did. He’s as old as your Pa for a start, and out of your class. Give me a real lively boy to cuddle up to any day.’

  ‘It’s real lively boys who get you into trouble,’ Carrie had replied smartly.

  Elsie had started at her in derision. ‘Don’t you ever want a boy of your own then?’

  ‘’Course I do, but I’m choosey who I give my cuddles to,’ Carrie had said, with a toss of the curls that were the envy of her friend, and left Elsie in no doubt as to what Carrie thought of reckless flirting with the tavern lads and the market boyos from Wales at the Welsh Back quay.

  But she was determined not to be goaded by any of the little barbs that frequently prickled between herself and Elsie today. It was far too glorious a day, and as they neared the Grand Stand area, she squinted her eyes to see if she could catch a glimpse of her friend. Her Pa had generously purchased a seat for Elsie too. Elsie’s old granpa was too infirm to venture out of the mean little cottage the two of them shared. It was little wonder that Elsie frequently ached to get out of there … she had her dreams too.

  Her small feeling of magnanimity swiftly fading, Carrie gave a small sigh. She knew full well that if Elsie had her way, she’d be sitting as stiflingly close to Wilf Stuckey as was possible today. And Carrie could have told her how futile it was for Elsie to be toying with the idea of setting her sights on the tallest, best-looking of her brothers.

  * * *

  ‘There’s your friend now, more’s the pity,’ Wilf said shortly.

  Carrie hid a smile, as the truth of her fleeting thoughts was confirmed. Elsie Miller had a long way to go yet, if she thought her flirty eyes and flouncing ways could make Wilf partial to her. But she defended her at once.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t always show how much you despise her, Wilf. Elsie’s not a bad girl —’

  ‘I’ll wager she would be, given half the chance,’ Frank put in with a grin. ‘You want to watch your step with her, our Carrie, or you’ll both end up as bad lots.’

  Carrie felt her cheeks flush. It was one thing to have her Pa eyeing her uneasily lately, as her shape began to blossom out in places it hadn’t done before. It was another thing to have her Ma looking at her quizzically, and patently wondering if there were things her daughter should be told about growing up — the things she and Elsie had already discussed in as intimate detail as possible with their scanty knowledge … but it was something else entirely to have her brothers being so knowing about female matters. Carrie hated that. As if to insist privately that no changes were taking place in her body or her life at all, she clutched hold of young Billy’s hand so tightly that he hollered out.

  ‘I’m sorry, lamb,’ she said contritely. ‘Come on, let’s follow Pa until we find the best seats, and we’ll save one for Elsie.’

  ‘Why must we? I don’t like her,’ he said at once, clearly intending to be at his cantankerous worst today. ‘She always smells funny.’

  ‘That’s because she works with the fish so much,’ Carrie told him. ‘She can’t help the smell, and you’re not to say anything about it, do you understand?’

  She sympathised with Elsie about the smell. It wasn’t easy, working between the various markets and handling the slippery fish all day long. The fish market at St James was held on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, but Elsie had a reprieve from there on Wednesdays, when she worked the Welsh Market. Though it wasn’t merely for a change of goods from the fish, as Carrie well knew. At the Welsh Market there was fresh and live produce; geese, pigs, ducks and fowls, as well as cider trading, fruit and nuts, and usually some scraps to take home for her granpa at the end of the day … and there were also the stocky dark-haired boyos that came across the Bristol Channel on the trows to sell their wares.

  Elsie didn’t seem to mind handling the fish on the other days, but Carrie shuddered, knowing she couldn’t bear their cold, clammy skin, nor ever get used to the smell. And whatever other faults Elsie had, she was as fastidious about herself as Carrie. She scrubbed at her hands and changed her clothes frequently, but still the fishy smell persisted. It was enough to turn a boy right off … but by all accounts, it didn’t do so.

  Carrie’s own work at the wash-tub with her mother, caring for the fine and delicate fabrics that the high-soc
iety Clifton ladies didn’t care to trust to the laundries, might seem demeaning to some, but at least she wasn’t at the mercy and catcalls of the flotsom that came in from the sea. And providing they hadn’t had to use too much bleach or vinegar in the rinsing water, the only smell that came from her hands was that of soap.

  Besides all that, there was always the dreaming thought that perhaps some day this fine chemise, or that beautiful lace-trimmed evening gown, might one day adorn her own shape. Once, Carrie had dared to try on one of the shimmering garments, the like of which she knew she would never own. She had felt the sensuality of the satin fabric against her skin, and wondered how it must feel to always wear such garments … and then she had felt the sting of her mother’s hand when she had been discovered preening herself in front of the looking-glass in the room she shared with Billy.

  She suddenly stumbled, nearly pulling Billy off his feet in the process, and blushed furiously as someone in the crowd shouted at her to be more careful. Her heart skipped a sickening beat as she recognised the man.

  ‘Can’t you control your girl, Sam Stuckey?’ Mr Woolley, her father’s stout-bellied gaffer, bawled at him, though his eyes were concentrated on Carrie in a way she hated. She averted her eyes quickly, knowing her Pa wouldn’t care to be chastised in front of a crowd because of his daughter’s clumsiness. And then her friend caught up with them, and she heard Elsie laughing.

  ‘Lord, what a comical sight you look, Carrie Stuckey, with your bonnet tipped all over your eyes. Can’t you be more careful where you put your feet, girl?’ She did a fair mimicry of gaffer Woolley’s voice, which started Billy giggling.

  ‘Shut up, you ninny,’ Carrie told him crossly. ‘You’ll only get Pa more riled if he thinks you’re laughing at him.’

  She adjusted her bonnet swiftly, wondering just why she counted Elsie so much a friend, when they were so often at loggerheads. But she’d once heard someone say that that was the mark of a real friendship. Such trivial irritations made no difference to the way true friends cared for one another, and she and Elsie had known one another since infancy. Carrie’s mother had comforted the small girl when her own mother had died, so soon after the father’s ship had gone down with all hands lost. She gave the other girl a forgiving smile.