‘One step at a time,’ said Dr Hamid, warningly. He assisted her from the bath chair in which he had wheeled her down the incline towards the sea and helped her to stand. She leaned upon his proffered arm and they walked slowly along the promenade.
‘Did you see in this morning’s newspaper,’ said Mina, ‘Mr Hope has been forestalled. Dr Livingstone has been found alive by a Mr Stanley who no-one has ever heard of. It happened last year, but the news has only just arrived in England and been confirmed. So unless he can find another adventure to justify the expense of his journey he must come home again.’
‘We must trust that he stays away from Brighton,’ said Dr Hamid. ‘He has disgraced himself enough here.’
‘People have short memories, and his supporters of whom I know he has many will hear nothing against him, so he may yet appear. He also has his protégé to encourage, although I understand from Richard that Mr Beckler’s experiments to create a photograph of a ghost have not been successful, so if we are fortunate, Mr Hope may tire of him and turn to something else.’
Mina looked out to sea and reflected on the events of the months of March and April, and how so many of her concerns had been resolved, and the stories that had started up then come to a conclusion. Her petulant sister Enid was recovering well from the early delivery of a daughter, who had been christened Gwendoline. While the infant was considered somewhat undersized for a nine-month child, Enid’s husband, Mr Inskip who was finally home from his prolonged absence had been so charmed by this addition to the family, that he had accepted the manufactured explanation without question. His business abroad had been highly successful, and this must have effected a change in his mood since it was reported that he and Enid were on far better terms than previously and she had not complained of him once.
Mrs Barnham, exhausted by the indignity of her arrest, and denied the support both of Miss Stone and her rum punch, had quickly declined in health. Following a pathetic appearance before the Brighton magistrates, she had collapsed in her cell before she could be remanded to gaol, suffered a fit, and passed away shortly afterwards.
Miss Stone had fared rather better. When interviewed by the police she strongly denied any knowledge of wrongdoing, admitting only to her part in preparing the servant child for what she described as ‘a harmless masquerade designed to comfort a bereaved father’ and this, at the behest of her employer. No charges were made against her and she was released. Under Mrs Barnham’s will she inherited all her employer’s property including the spiritoscope, with which she continued the séances. These were advertised in the Brighton Gazette at 6d per person, and met with some moderate success, although she did not promise to produce bodily manifestations.
Mr Cobbe, who had been hoping to reduce or even entirely escape punishment by revealing Mr Vardy’s crimes, discovered to his cost that Mr Vardy could retaliate with his own counter-accusations. Denial proved useless, as the scandal proceeded rapidly like a fall of dominoes. Those persons who had remained silent before, for fear of counterattack, loss of standing or disbelief, now felt able to join in the general outcry, and the banker’s image of stout respectability and charitable deeds quickly disintegrated. Both he and Mr Vardy were currently in Lewes Gaol awaiting their trials at the next assizes.
The last chapter in the Maritime Queen affair had come to an end with the announcement that Mr Taylor, the only one of the culprits in that business still free, had been arrested in France and charged with the murder of his accomplice.
Mrs Holt, as she now called herself, having divested herself of an uncaring husband and a treacherous sister, applied herself with energy and dedication to the welfare of her children, assisted by her new maid, Maggie. She often entertained Mr Merridew to tea, where he amused the company with readings from plays. Franklin, still a strange fragile boy, but now almost free of his previous nocturnal torments, always requested to hear speeches from Hamlet.
Louisa Scarletti was now permanently settled in Brighton, which she much preferred to London, and was busily making the rounds of tea parties. She was promised a visit from Enid and all her family as soon as the new mother and child were able to travel.
Mina had received a letter to say that her good friend Nellie would soon be home from Italy. She was pleased to report that her maid, Zillah, who had recovered from her earlier aversion to food, had regained her appetite and was looking rosy and plump. Mina decided that she would not yet mention Nellie’s return to Richard, who had somehow managed to stay out of trouble.
Almost as surprising was the recent announcement in the Gazette of the betrothal of Mr Ronald Phipps to Miss Adeline Cherry.
All was well. All was calm. Far away, little white wave tips scudded into shore, and Mina well knew how these could grow and burst over the promenade in a sudden storm. But not yet, she thought. Not just yet. Not today.
***