Free The Captain's Daughter by Leah Fleming Page B

deceptive.
    ‘Let’s see how it fits you. We can always take up the hem.’
    May hung back. ‘There are women walking round in skirts made out of blankets over there. This is too good for me.’
    ‘Nonsense. Here are the baby’s clothes, all spick and span. The lace on her nightdress is exquisite. It’s hand done, and the bonnet too . . . Are you a lacemaker?’
    May looked up. ‘Oh, that,’ she said flatly ‘It was a gift. I was once in service in Lostock outside Bolton to the wife of a cotton mill owner. When she heard about the baby, she gave me a load of stuff. It must be one of hers.’ May amazed herself with the speed and confidence with which she concocted this dreadful lie. She’d never seen such fancy lace in her life.
    ‘They look like heirlooms. I haven’t seen anything like it before.’
    ‘I suppose it is rather grand for a little ’un,’ May blushed. ‘I’ll be right now, I reckon. Go and get yourself some tea. You’ve been so kind. We’ll manage somehow.’
    Celeste was not easily shifted, however. ‘We started this together so we’ll finish it too. I have all the time in the world. You need help and information. I can find you a place to stay in New York. You’ve enough on your plate with Ella to see to.’
    ‘Are you always this bossy?’ May smiled, revealing a row of crooked teeth.
    ‘Only when I’m right,’ the lady replied, smiling. ‘I surprise myself sometimes. I’d like you to get those hands checked over again.’ She took hold of May’s hands and inspected the swollen fingers. ‘A warm bath might ease them. I can see to Ella. She’s such a darling, how old is she?’
    ‘A year in May,’ May answered swiftly and then wished she hadn’t.
    ‘Really? She’s very small. Roddy was twice her size at that age.’
    ‘She was a seven monther, a tiny thing at birth and so she is a bit behind others.’ How could she let such lies trip off her tongue?
    ‘I’d love a little girl. Perhaps one day . . .’ Celeste looked wistful and far away. ‘Roddy’s nearly three. They grow so fast, don’t they? Don’t forget to wire your family back home to tell them that you are safe.’
    ‘We’ve no family, not now, not ever. There were just the three of us. Ella’s all I’ve got left.’
    ‘Oh, that’s terrible and so unfair. I’m so sorry. But there’s your relative in Idaho.’
    ‘Uncle George? I’ve never met him. He bought the ticket for us but Joe had everything in his coat.’ Tears were welling up in her eyes now. ‘I don’t even know exactly where we were going. Isn’t that terrible? Joe did everything like that. I didn’t really want to come.’ The tears flowed down her cheeks unchecked.
    ‘Let it out, May. You need to cry. You’ve held yourself together so bravely. If this Uncle George sponsored you, officials will have his address. I’ll make sure they know.’
    ‘I don’t deserve your kindness, Celeste. I’m making a fool of myself,’ May sniffed.
    ‘Don’t be silly. They’re holding a special burial service for those who’ve died on the ship. I think we should go. It will help. My father’s a clergyman and he says saying goodbye helps. Standing side by side together we can support each other.’
    ‘Oughtn’t you to be up there?’ May looked to where many First Class passengers were gathered in groups, talking, smoking.
    ‘May, we’re in this together.’ Celeste held out her hand. It was too much for May and she cried again.
    ‘Joe’s never coming back, is he?’
    ‘There’s always hope. Maybe another ship picked survivors up.’
    May sighed and swallowed her tears. ‘He’s gone. I can feel it here,’ she whispered, touching her heart. ‘I should have gone with them.’
    ‘Don’t say that! Think of Ella. She needs you more than ever now.’
    May fingered the baby’s head and whispered, ‘You’re right. Every baby needs a mother. I may not be your flesh and blood,’ she sighed, looking into the little stranger’s eyes,