The ship’s carpenter had already managed to hammer together a casket out of rough wooden planks and square-headed nails. I stared at it, unable to connect my beautiful, living, breathing sister with the inert body in the box before me. Wasn’t it just yesterday that we had a glorious time on the island together? How could I know they would be our last happy moments?
I felt my chest heave just as a small, delicate arm slipped into mine. I looked over and was surprised to see that Sarah had found a way to sneak out. She reached out her other arm and held me close, her head on my shoulder, and then Captain Hellyer cleared his throat, signalling to John.
As John spoke about life and loss, I turned my head to the sea and the setting sun that coloured the sparkling ocean a bloodred. And finally my gaze rested on the frothing wake that would soon accept the body of my beloved Hari.
When John was done, two crewmen stepped forward, and I recognized Sam from the boiler room. He touched his cap to me, then moved forward with his partner to close the coffin lid. They hoisted it on their shoulders and moved towards the rail.
“Goodbye, Harriet,” I whispered.
Then they let the coffin slide off their shoulders and into the sea, and my broken heart went with it.
Chapter Thirty
After Harriet’s death, time seemed to lurch from excruciatingly slow moments of deep grief to whole days that slipped by unnoticed. I knew I had to write to Wiggles, but when I sat down to do it, I didn’t know where to begin. How could I tell her that our Hari was dead? In the end, I found the words, however inadequate. I asked her to tell both Charles and Cousin Edward and to post a notice of Hari’s death at our church. And finally, I gave her the address of Hari’s bank and asked her to inform them of her death. Since I was Hari’s sole heir, all her funds should be forwarded to the Royal Mail office in Victoria, to my attention. I included the death certificate that Dr. Carson provided, then sealed the envelope. I would post it at our next stop, San Francisco Bay.
Sarah got special permission to visit me, and she helped me deal with Hari’s things. I would never wear any of her clothes and decided to give them to Sarah, Florence, Emma, Alice, and the other emigrant women. Several of them told me that they planned to throw their stained and filthy clothes overboard and don one of Hari’s fine dresses for their arrival. It brought a little sunshine to my days to see their gratitude.
I packed the rest of Hari’s things in my own trunk, though I broke down again when I came across her jewellery box. I tucked it away with my belongings. Our twin boxes would stay with me forever.
For the next two weeks, I took meals in my room. Once, when I forced myself out the door to have tea, Sir Richard approached me.
“Deepest sympathies, my dear,” he said as he doffed his silk hat. “I’d just like to say that I’m dashed sorry you won’t be joining us at Governor Douglas’s residence as originally planned. I did so enjoy our talks together and hoped for more in Victoria, but Lady Persephone overruled me. She says it’s quite out of the question, what with everything that’s happened. I did try to get her to change her mind but, well, you know.”
I thanked him. When Charles divorced Harriet, we knew the Douglases would not welcome us. Despite the unknowns, I simply didn’t have the energy to even contemplate my future in Victoria.
But others did. Mrs. Burk came to see me in my cabin with a clear message. “You have made many friends with the emigrant women. They seem to be a better fit for you than the first-class passengers.”
I was in no mood for her snide comments. “What do you want, Mrs. Burk?” I said coldly.
“I won’t waste your time. Do you have any money?”
“A little.”
“I will take what you have. You can stay with the women in Victoria until you get a job.”
I had no choice. I said yes.
The blast of the ship’s horn signalled our arrival in San Francisco Bay, and I stepped out on deck and dropped my letter for Wiggles into the bag that the mail jitney would soon pick up. In the distance I knew was the great gold rush town of San Francisco, of which I had heard so much about during our journey, but I couldn’t see it. A fog hung low over the water, and the city was shrouded in a misty veil of white, though in moments of shifting breeze I thought I could make out the ghostlike images of some of the buildings in the town. All I could hear in the eerie quiet around me were the mournful cries of foghorns and the gentle lapping of waves against the ship. As the mail jitney came alongside, I blinked back tears, knowing the little rowboat would soon carry my sad news to a clipper ship destined for England.
After a long turn around the deck, I returned to my room and dug out my jewellery box. I wound the crank on the bottom, then lifted the lid. Tinkling musical notes filled the small room, and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to be soothed by the lilting notes of “Greensleeves.”
I was still feeling low when John knocked on my door later. I had been avoiding him in the last weeks, not yet ready to have the painful conversation I knew we must. I let him in now and invited him to sit down. He slowly lowered his large frame into one of the chairs, crossed and uncrossed
