Fool's Gold by Glen Davies Page B

them.’ She looked from him to the baby and back to the camera again. ‘They may not give a second chance,’ he said sombrely.
    She handed him down a coarse apron of duck and selected two bottles from the shelf.
    ‘Mix some of that with twice the amount of this one,’ she instructed. ‘Don’t breathe in the fumes! I’ll set up the tripod.’
    He put his hands together and bowed. ‘Velly good missie!’ he said gravely. And as he raised his head, she saw that he was beaming from ear to ear.
    So they had set out, full of confidence, on the road that led inexorably to San Francisco … and the shadow of the gallows.

 
    Chapter Six
     
    After another hard week labouring at the Carsons’, Sunday did not turn out to be the day of rest that Alicia had hoped for, as she had decided to go to church — the church the Carsons attended. Not that she was going to suit them, of course, but she had learnt from Mr Jones that the minister’s sister ran a sort of Dame School for the younger girls of the town whose parents could not or would not send them back east to Young Ladies’ Academies.
    It was, she admitted guiltily to herself, pure self-interest that was taking her to God’s House this fine summer’s morning — but then, of how many others could the same not be said?
    It did not take her long to wash and dress them both. She took time to pretty up Tamsin, brushing out her thick fair hair and weaving through it blue ribbons to match her eyes.
    She was a curiously biddable child, had been so ever since that dreadful time up at Coloma. If only Alicia had more time to devote to her, she knew she could bring her out, turn her once again into the bright, vivacious little girl she had once been. But a biddable child was so much easier.
    She hoped she might be able to persuade the minister’s sister to take Tamsin into her Dame School. It would cost money, of course, but not much more than she already paid the rapacious Aggie Grey for her casual supervision. And this time it would be money well spent, for Tamsin would be continuing the education that Alicia had started in better days and receiving more attention than the careless, slipshod Aggie lavished on the entire brood. She had had to close her mind to the question of Tamsin’s safety and well-being during the day; it was a worry, but she could see no cure for it.
    The streets were almost as bustling and busy on this Sabbath as on any weekday. With the scattered population of the outlying ranches and the mining camps, Sacramento had never concerned itself overmuch about Sunday travel and the streets were full of carts and carriages and riders on horseback.
    She walked resolutely down towards the Main Street, with Tamsin at her side, looking neither to right nor left. She wore her bonnet at a demure angle, shading her face from the dust and the heat of the sun. The pale grey silk dress she had bought at the knock-down street corner auction that first day in Sacramento had been thoroughly washed and the sleeves restyled more in the modern manner; the over-ornate trimmings around the neck and hem had been ruthlessly removed and the decolletage filled with a muslin fichu. Now, with a Paisley shawl around her shoulders, more for modesty than warmth, she made a pleasant enough picture, attracting admiring glances from the gentlemen as they passed in their carriages on their way to church, and occasional warm comments from the miners hanging around on the street corners and sidewalks.
    She had never rated her looks very highly, right from the earliest days in California when her only ambition had been to have olive skin, dark eyes and luxuriant black locks like the Alcalde’s daughters. Robert — handsome, dashing Robert — had always called her plain and, as in so many other matters, she had accepted his judgement.
    In a crowded city, London, Paris or New York, she might not have rated a second look, for she was attractive rather than stunning. But she was young and she