1951: Tours, France
Since the night of the party Flynn had behaved as though nothing more than work had ever occurred between him and Evie. Without really knowing why, Evie followed suit, pushing down the pain that gnawed at her every time she saw him or caught his familiar scent. Inside, she shifted between missing his company, telling herself she was glad to be rid of his temperamental ways, and barely suppressed rage.
She tried to bury herself in the soothing distraction of the lights, often managing to find ways of doing her work without needing to be in the same place as Flynn. Of course, one of the disadvantages of being on a boat was that they were always, technically, in the same place. Evie caught herself staring whenever she registered his presence nearby, searching for hints of a hidden relationship with the magician’s assistant.
She was driving herself crazy and it affected her work. She very nearly missed one of her most important cues—a spotlight on Humphrey for the opening magic tricks—and had made the lights too bright on Alvin’s act, diminishing the effect of his flames. Humphrey had given her a talking-to and she’d had to resort to the age-old excuse of women’s troubles to explain her unusual inattentiveness. Which got her thinking …
Evie sat on her bed, counting on her fingers the weeks since her last menstruation. It was sometimes hard to keep track, what with there being no regular weekly routine on the boat, but one thing became clear very quickly: it had been too long.
Colour drained from her face and she ducked her head between her knees. On the floor was a single cigarette butt, a forgotten remnant of Flynn’s nighttime visits. She kicked it away. Shame washed over her, all the way from London and the sisters who would be mortified if they knew what she’d done.
She was going to be sick.
‘Oh, god,’ she whispered, realising sickness was another symptom.
She was shaking. She wanted to escape this moment; pass it on to someone else who was better equipped to handle it. But there was no changing the matter. Like it or not, she was fairly sure she was pregnant.
Evie was trying hard to hide the changes in her body beneath her siren suit, but her slowly rounding belly was beginning to press against the fabric. The bouts of nausea that came over her at odd moments were mild compared to the seasickness she’d suffered in her early days on the Victory and she was able to bear them with little more than a film of sweat and some deep breathing. The truly difficult part was going about her work as though nothing had changed. Because of course it had. It had changed in a huge, irreversible way.
She hadn’t told Flynn about her pregnancy. It was easier to continue ignoring him than to force out the words she knew she should say. She would have to tell him the truth eventually, but if she opened her mouth now all the hurt and fury and confusion she felt would pour out instead, and who knew where that would take them.
Evie knew she should make plans for when it—she couldn’t yet bring herself to think of ‘it’ as a baby—came, but so far she hadn’t come up with a single rational thought about what she would do. All she could think about was how she would no longer be respectable Evelyn, nor rash, impulsive Evie who had run away from her normal life to join a boat and work with her hands. She would be one of ‘those’ women: a woman who’d got herself into trouble.
She knew she would have to leave the Victory. The only thing she could do was return to Cynthia’s home in the hope her sister would take her in. Evie was filled with a desperate terror at the thought of grovelling on her sister’s doorstep, asking to be let into the home she’d shunned.
And even if Cynthia did find forgiveness in her heart, the lights of Evie’s life would still be dimmed. There would be no excitement; her life on the Victory would be long gone, and she wouldn’t even have the dinner parties, dances or hated set-ups with eligible men that Cynthia used to push on her. She’d be the sister whose shame needed to be hidden away.
‘Come with me,’ Bee demanded one day, taking Evie by surprise as she was standing on the deck, squinting up at the masts. Climbing the webbing to get to the mounted lights was going to get increasingly difficult over the coming months, and she was making a list of the things she needed to do before it became impossible. Before she was kicked off the boat.
‘I was just—’ Evie began, but Bee cut her off.
‘Never mind that. You can come back to it later.’
She grabbed Evie’s elbow firmly and steered her below deck to her own cabin, shutting the door behind them. For a second Evie was startled by the mess. There were tins of make-up and nylon stockings scattered everywhere, the floor was strewn with discarded shoes, and colourful dresses disguised the pieces of furniture. The cabin was bigger than Evie’s but felt smaller with all the clutter.
‘What is it, Bee?’ Evie said, turning to her. ‘I’m really quite busy—’
‘Are you pregnant?’
A flare of heat ran across Evie’s face, then her heart faltered. It couldn’t be happening already. She wasn’t ready to leave yet.
She forced herself to reply in as steady a voice as she could manage. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Don’t lie. You’re terrible at it. It’s actually a rather endearing quality.’
Evie thought about trying to lie anyway. But the thought no sooner appeared than she knew it was pointless. They would all know the truth sooner or later. Her shoulders slumped, and unconsciously her hand went to her belly.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, struggling to keep the tears at bay.
Bee’s scarlet lips pressed together in a line, but all she said was, ‘How far along?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out. I’ve missed two, maybe three periods now, but I’ve always been a bit irregular so it took me a while to notice.’
An overwhelming tiredness was clawing its way up Evie’s body. Her feet ached, and the pain in her heart at being discovered and knowing this life was all over was too much.
Bee must have noticed her wilt, for she cleared a space on the bed and told her to sit. Sandalwood perfume enveloped Evie as she sank onto the counterpane, as though Bee had sprayed the sheets with it. She wouldn’t be surprised if she had.
‘What are you going to do?’ Bee asked. Her voice was gentle and her expression sympathetic as she pulled a cigarette out from inside a shoe and lit it with a lighter she found underneath a tin of toothpaste.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, do you want to have the baby?’
Evie glanced up sharply. ‘What do you mean?’
Bee blew out a lungful of smoke, obscuring her face as she said, ‘There are things that can be done if you don’t want it. Ways of taking care of the matter.’
‘I … I know. I mean, I know some women do that. But I’m not sure I could.’
‘It would make your life easier. Things could go back to the way they were before.’
‘I understand. But … I don’t know, Bee.’ Evie sighed, leaning back against a pile of assorted clothing. It felt as though there was a shoe somewhere beneath the pile, digging into her back, but she didn’t bother looking for it. ‘I’m just so frightened. If only there was a way to support myself without relying on my sisters.’
‘Would that make your decision easier?’
‘Perhaps not easier. But then I wouldn’t only be thinking about my fear. I’m not sure fear is the best driving factor. When I think of how frightened I was of joining the Victory and how it’s come to be a life I adore, a life I never thought I’d be able to have …’ She choked up, unable to go on.
Bee sat down next to her and rubbed a soothing hand over her thigh. ‘Then forget the fear for a second. Imagine you don’t have to rely on your sisters. Would you choose to get the baby “taken care of”?’
Evie stared at the ceiling of Bee’s cabin, considering the question. Her thoughts had been so wrapped up in losing her place on the Victory and begging forgiveness from her sisters that she hadn’t even begun to wonder if she could be a mother. It was the life she had always avoided. But no, that wasn’t quite true. That life had all the trappings of a convenient yet halfhearted marriage, and the domesticity that went with it.
‘I can hardly believe I’m saying it, but that choice doesn’t feel the right fit for me. I don’t think I would.’ An unexpected and strange little thrill ran through Evie, followed by a quick stab of disappointment. ‘But it doesn’t matter, for I do have to rely on my sisters. Either they’ll take me in to be their disgraced burden, or they’ll try to find some man so desperate for a wife he’ll pretend the baby’s his.’
‘Awfully grim,’ Bee said. ‘Why not just stay here? You’ve got income, food and a roof over your head.’
‘Humphrey won’t want an unmarried pregnant worker on his boat. And even if he was somehow fine with that—which would be a miracle in itself—he definitely wouldn’t want a worker with a baby.’
‘You leave Humphrey to me. So, it’s sorted then? You’re having the baby?’
It seemed impossible to have come to a conclusion in such a short time.
‘If Humphrey really would allow me to stay on board and work for him …’
‘You might not know this, but Humphrey has always been one for giving people chances in the strangest of circumstances.’
Bending over, Bee pulled a trunk out from underneath her bed. Evie sat up to watch as she rifled through the collection of clothing within, muttering ‘no, no, yes,’ and tossing some back into the trunk and others onto the bed next to Evie. Finally satisfied, she shoved the trunk back under the bed with one foot. The increase in mess was barely discernible.
‘There you are,’ she said, nodding to the pile she’d made.
‘What’s all this?’ Evie picked up the nearest item, a printed georgette dress that looked as though it had once been expensive but was no longer fashionable.
‘Clothes that used to fit me but haven’t in a long time. I figure you’ll be needing some bigger dresses before too long.’
‘Oh,’ Evie whispered. The dress, only a moment ago seeming old and unfashionable, was suddenly beautiful thanks to the kindness of the gesture, and she gathered it in her lap, letting her fingers run through the folds of fabric. ‘Bee … I … thank you. This is very generous.’
Bee shrugged. A smile danced on Evie’s lips, the first since she’d realised she was pregnant.
Bee returned the smile, then a crease formed between her brows. ‘Look, I know you were unhappy with me for not warning you about Flynn, and I’m sorry about that. I feel I should say something now though. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t steal a lifeboat and row himself into the distance the minute he finds out about this baby.’
‘I know.’ It hurt to hear, but it didn’t make Evie waver. Flynn had proved what kind of man he was; she didn’t need to consider him in her decision.
‘Good. Although I don’t know why the man couldn’t have worn French letters and saved you all this trouble.’
Evie blushed. Miroslaw had always used latex condoms which he had somehow procured. Evie, as an unmarried woman, had no access to such things.
‘He … he always … withdrew, before … you know. I thought you couldn’t get pregnant that way. We both thought it.’
‘Ah. Well, you’re not the first to fall into trouble under that misconception. Shame they don’t teach girls about these things, but never mind. You’ve lain in your bed, now you’ve got to make it.’
‘Don’t you mean I’ve made my bed and now I have to lie in it?’
‘I think you’ve done enough lying in that bed to last yourself a long while. Now it’s all about taking care of business. Come on, let’s go see Humphrey.’
‘Wh-what? Now?’ Evie’s voice had gone shrill. When Bee had said to leave Humphrey to her, she’d hoped it meant Bee had some kind of plan. Not just marching straight to him with the truth. ‘Bee, I need some time. I can’t risk getting kicked off the boat right now. I have to save, figure out where I’m going to go …’
‘If Humphrey Walsh sacks you over this, then I’ll eat Alvin’s fire myself. That’s how sure I am of him.’
Evie looked at her, sceptical, and Bee gave a slow exhalation. She went to the door and pressed her ear against it. Apparently satisfied at the lack of noise, she came back to the bed and sat down next to Evie, as close as she could get. She leaned in so her blonde curls were brushing Evie’s shoulders. Her face had never looked so grim. In fact, Evie never would have guessed Bee capable of such an expression. It was as though she was frightened and angry all at once.
‘I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone else except for Humphrey. The story of how I came to join the Victory.’
‘Oh?’ Evie hadn’t been expecting that. How could such an anecdote have the power to make Bee come over all twitchy and furtive?
‘I am trusting you with my life here, Evie. I need you to understand that.’
Evie laughed, thinking it a joke. But Bee didn’t join her. She kept the same unnerving expression, and Evie cut off the sound as fast as one might switch off a wireless.
‘I was married quite young.’
‘You’re married?’
‘If that much shocks you you’re not at all prepared for this story.’
‘Sorry. Go on.’
‘My mother had a large brood and no resources to feed us. So I was married off to the first man looking for a wife—any wife—to make himself appear respectable. There was a brief, formal consummation—something my new husband seemed to find unpleasant but necessary. And then … nothing. His lack of interest in me made me feel as worthless as my mother had always deemed me. But then I met a boy. A sweet nobody who was my own age—unlike my husband who was decades older—and his attentions made me feel valued and beautiful. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I won’t lie to you: I didn’t even attempt to stop myself.’
Evie could understand. It was how she’d felt with Miroslaw, with Flynn. Denial of one’s desires was much easier in thought than in practice.
‘Then my husband caught me with the boy. That was the second and last time he touched me. He dragged me upstairs and tried to force himself on me. It was ugly, sweaty and stinking of anger, and in the end mostly unsuccessful.’
‘Oh, Bee …’ No wonder she’d considered Flynn’s actions towards Evie the night of the party just a little hurtful. Comparatively, that seemed so small.
‘I was an insult to my husband after that, but he wouldn’t grant me a divorce. It was his way of punishing me. I began to wonder then if he had certain other proclivities which satisfied him better.’
‘You mean he preferred men?’
‘It would’ve made sense. He could be jailed for loving another man, and that would be enough to make anyone tired and angry with the world. In my naivety I was actually relieved. I figured we could come to an arrangement, one which suited us both: he could give me some of the freedom I craved, and I could help him keep his secret. But how to broach the subject? He might simply deny what I suspected. I decided the best thing was to catch him in the act. Then there could be no denial, and in the worst-case scenario I could blackmail a divorce out of him.’
‘And did you? Catch him in the act, I mean.’
‘I wish. It turned out he wasn’t interested in men either. His proclivities went somewhere far less natural.’
A nervous somersault flipped Evie’s stomach and she clutched it with both hands, as though settling the baby. All of a sudden she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. But they’d come too far now, and Bee was forging ahead in a voice barely more than a whisper.
‘I was hiding in his study and saw him bring in a young girl. Young enough to be his daughter. Young enough to be my daughter. He began behaving with this girl in a way he’d only ever behaved with his wife twice.’
‘No.’ The word tumbled out of Evie’s mouth, tasting of vomit.
‘That’s what I said. Or rather, I screamed it when I jumped out of my hiding place. The child was crying, trying to get away from my husband, and I just ran at him, spitting and swearing. He must have been in shock, for he was still long enough for me to get the poor girl out of his grasp. Then he went wild, screaming at me that no one could ever find out. But he knew he couldn’t trust me—I’d already proven that, hadn’t I? He came at me.
‘I’m not a strong person, Evie, but I am quick. That’s one good thing about growing up one of twelve: you learn how to fight for your place. I grabbed the letter opener from his desk at the same time he grabbed me, and just as he put his hands around my throat, I put it into the soft skin of his belly. Enough times that his hands slackened and he let go of me.’
The two women stared at one another. Evie, who had seen and committed her fair share of horrors, couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Bee to find herself in such an impossible situation.
‘What would you have done, Evie?’ Bee whispered. Her face had gone as pale as the inside curve of a light. ‘While that little girl was sobbing and cowering in the corner, would you have taken a knife to him so he couldn’t hurt her?’
Tears slid down Evie’s face. She couldn’t answer. How could anyone know what they would do in that situation?
‘The second he stopped moving I took the child back to her home, making her promise she wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened that night. I think she was frightened enough to stick to her promise. I hope she was young enough to forget it all one day. Afterwards, I didn’t know what to do. I found myself wandering around a local fete. Some dim part of my brain had decided that until I made a plan I should lose myself in a crowd.
‘That’s when I met Humphrey. He was staring at me and I panicked and started running. Well, when someone runs, certain people have the impulse to chase. Thinking he was after something physical I stupidly tore open my coat, shouting, “Is this what you want?”. I’d meant to expose my body, not my blood-stained dress. It was a night of mistake after mistake, and the only thing I could think to do was tell him the truth. I’d heard of him, you see, a magician who ran a show on a boat which never stayed in the same place for long.’
‘So Humphrey and the Victory were your escape,’ Evie whispered. The tears stilled on her cheeks as she tried to take in all this new information.
‘Yes. For whatever reason, Humphrey chose to believe my story. He also knew that as soon as they found my husband’s body I’d be wanted for murder, and the price for that was hanging. So he brought me on board and helped me change my appearance: ammonia and peroxide on my hair, make-up to alter my features, and weight gain on a body which had been rail-thin to appease my husband’s tastes. Then he created an act which I began to perform once we were far enough from British waters, and I became Bee instead of who I was before.’
Now that she was at the end of her story, Bee’s demeanour had changed. Gone were the tremors and the fear in her eyes, replaced with a cocked eyebrow and a confident set to her chin. It was almost as though a mask had dropped over her face, as tangible as Humphrey’s eyepatch.
‘Now do you see why I think Humphrey can be trusted to do the right thing?’
Evie did. She patted her face dry, ready to put her trust in Bee as Bee had once put hers in Humphrey.
As usual, Bee barged into Humphrey’s office without invitation. Humphrey was standing next to his bed, pulling on a striped satin eyepatch. With haste he snatched it into place, fingers checking nothing below was revealed.
‘What is it, Bee?’
‘We’ve something to tell you, and there’s no point dallying, so here it is: Evie is going to have a baby. Isn’t that wonderful?’
Evie was shocked at Bee’s quick exposure of her secret. Yet at the same time she could have kissed her for using the word ‘we’.
Humphrey’s eyes darted to Evie’s stomach. There wasn’t much to see there yet. Pressing his lips together—an expression that seemed concern more than anger, or so Evie hoped—he walked to his desk and sat down. He clasped both hands before him, rested his chin on his intertwined fingers, and nodded at the chairs opposite for them to sit down.
‘Tell me, Evie. Did anyone push themselves on you?’
‘What? Oh! No, not at all.’
Humphrey’s face broke into a grin and he sat back in his chair. ‘Then it is indeed wonderful news. Although we’ll need to look at your work schedule and make some changes, I’m sure. Things can’t go on quite the way they were before.’
Bee was looking at Evie in triumph.
Evie, unable to believe this rapid acceptance, said, ‘You … you mean you’re not angry with me? For being reckless and foolish and causing this situation? For upsetting the balance on the boat?’
‘My dear girl, anger at human nature and mistakes is a wasted emotion. And I would hope that it would take a lot more than a baby to unbalance the Victory.’
Again, Evie began to cry.
Humphrey bustled about looking for a handkerchief. Not finding one, he handed her a piece of spangled scrap fabric instead. It was useless at mopping up her tears and Evie gave a soggy, hiccupping laugh.
‘I can only guess at what you’ve been going through,’ he said, coming around the desk so he was closer to her. ‘I want you to know something: our biggest trials can also lead to our biggest triumphs.’
‘I would like to believe that’s true,’ Evie said, sniffing.
‘Oh, it is. I know from experience. I was only a child when something went wrong with my eye. The doctor had a “wait and see” approach and by the time he realised it was serious I was already on the irreversible path to losing all sight in that eye. Now, children with deformities who live in small towns don’t have the easiest time of it, but I used the very thing that could have brought me down to find my place in the world instead.’
‘What do you mean?’
To Evie’s surprise, Humphrey clambered up onto his desk, feet planted between the pencils and sketches and shining material.
Bee was already cackling as Humphrey opened his mouth and sang:
‘One-eye, Cyclops, periscope, Popeye,
Boy with ugly head.
Sniper, winky, blinky,
Pirate without the peg-leg.
Lefty, number one, Humphr-EYE,
Scary one-eyed monster,
With a nose so big and ugly,
His right eye ran away from her.’
He finished with a flourish, as though performing for an audience, and Evie clapped so hard her palms stung.
‘The very first song I wrote and performed,’ Humphrey said, jumping off the desk with surprising agility. A number of his belongings clattered to the floor but he didn’t bother to retrieve them. ‘Made of all the names the other school boys called me. The names stopped after I sang it to them, and my love of performing began.’
Evie wasn’t sure she could turn an unexpected pregnancy to the same advantage, but she was grateful all the same for Humphrey’s uplifting words. Now that her secret was out, a wave of relief washed over her, making every muscle relax. The heaviness behind her eyes tried to force her lids shut, and she was unable to stop a yawn so wide it made her jaw crack.
‘You need rest,’ Humphrey said. ‘No work until tonight’s show. Flynn can hold the fort until then.’
He escorted the women to the door, holding it open for them.
Before she slipped out, Evie said, ‘Thank you, Humphrey. For being so kind. I was afraid to confront the truth, but you’ve made it easier.’
‘Told you,’ Bee muttered, nudging Evie with her elbow.
‘A baby on the boat will be a delight and make our family complete,’ Humphrey said decisively. ‘Why, I’ll feel like a grandfather. What a novelty!’
All three heard the cry. It was a sound of despair that reminded Evie of Gussie, the Lister Twister, in the moment before she’d disappeared beneath the brick wall.
She turned to see Flynn holding open the door between Humphrey’s ornate one and the main corridor. His face was twisted in a pained expression, and a muscle pulsated at the side of his jaw. Evie’s ears went as hot as the boat’s metal railing after a full afternoon in the sun. Even Bee was lost for words for once.
‘Excuse me,’ Evie muttered, ducking her head and pushing past Flynn.
She couldn’t avoid brushing against him as she went through the narrow opening, and his touch made her want to smack her open palm across his face. Instead, she kept moving, not letting her feet stop until she was in the safety of her cabin.
If Flynn wanted to talk to her about what he’d overheard, he could come after her.