Lovers Meeting

by Irene Carr

  There were still attic rooms to spare at the top of the house and Dan was settled in one, Kitty in another. Annie came running up the stairs with a hot shelf from the oven to shove into the old woman’s bed. With Kitty tucked in, Josie sat on the edge of the bed, cradling the sleeping Charlotte. She said, ‘I could do with another woman to help me here. You see, this is a lodging—’

  Kitty broke in, ‘I know. I heard about you taking in that lass and them sailors. Folks talk.’

  Josie explained, ‘It’s a big house—’

  Kitty cut her off again: ‘I know that an’ all, knew this house afore you were born, lassie. Knew Will Langley and I cried when I heard he’d died. After my man was lost, if Will found me when I’d had a drop too much, he’d always see me home.’ She wiped at her eyes. ‘And I know that Tom Collingwood, knew him from when he was just a bairn and Will took him in.’

  Josie didn’t like the sound of the ‘drop too much’. It suggested tonight’s drunken escapade had not been the first, as Kitty had suggested. But could she send the old woman away, or to the workhouse? She had been a friend of old William, that seemed like the truth. Josie said, ‘What I’m getting at is that I could give you a job and a room here, just as I have Dan.’

  Kitty peered up at her. ‘You would?’ And when Josie nodded the tears rolled down the old woman’s cheeks. She turned away abruptly to hide her face. ‘I owe you something for what you did tonight, so I’ll help you out. Now get away and let me sleep.’

  ‘Goodnight.’ Josie grinned and left her.

  She was startled next morning to see Kitty descending the stairs, albeit stiffly and with a hand to her brow. Josie folded the letter she had just finished reading and was still smiling. ‘Good morning. How are you?’

  Kitty grumbled, ‘Me head aches. It must ha’ been the way you and that soljer manhandled me.’

  Josie thought the true cause might lie in something Kitty had drunk, but only said, ‘Come and have breakfast.’

  The old woman followed her to the kitchen. As they passed the side passage leading to the house next door, Kitty said, ‘What will Tom Collingwood think about you turning this place into a lodgin’ house? Some of them has a very queer reputation and he worshipped old Will. And you’ve got Will’s granddaughter here.’

  Josie knew what Kitty meant by ‘reputation’; there were lodging houses which were little more than brothels. She replied, with relief because of the assurance of Tom’s letter in her hand, but also, surprising herself, with more than a tinge of regret: ‘Captain Collingwood is not here.’

  Kitty said ominously, ‘He will be – one day.’

  15

  November 1908

  ‘Have you gone mad, woman?’ Tom Collingwood stood in the hall, a towering, black-browed, wrathful figure. His kitbag lay at his sea-booted feet, his cap was gripped tight in one big hand.

  Josie had just come out of the kitchen into the passage leading to the hall. She stared at him, trying to collect her wits, and gave thanks that she wore a clean, white blouse and long, dark skirt, and had stripped off her apron before leaving the kitchen. Only three days had passed since she had told Kitty confidently, ‘Captain Collingwood isn’t here.’ He was now, come like a sudden storm.

  She said, ‘I had a letter from you, written in Spain.’

  Tom answered deliberately, ‘I posted it the day before I learned we had a homeward-bound cargo.’

  ‘I see. I wasn’t expecting you.’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting to find this!’ Tom pointed along the hall to the side passage leading to the boarders’ quarters. That was their only entrance to the house next door. ‘I saw three or four men duck into there just a second or two ago. This … lady’ – he gestured with his cap towards Annie, pressed back against the wall, blue eyes wide and hands to her face – ‘who admitted me, tells me they are sailors lodging here.’

  Josie swallowed but walked on into the hall to confront him. ‘That is correct.’

  Annie sidled along the wall, seeking to hide behind Josie. Tom’s gaze switched to her again and he started, ‘And—’

  Josie grasped the nettle. ‘This is Annie. She had to leave home because she was in trouble, but she is a good girl really and a great help to me.’ Tom stared at her, incredulous. Then Josie heard the kitchen door open behind her and she turned her head and saw Kitty Duggan. Josie sought to introduce her: ‘And this is—’

  Tom broke in: ‘Kitty Duggan. Yes, I know all about Kitty. Do I understand that she is also a member of this household now?’

  ‘She is, and—’ But Josie stopped as Tom swung away, found his kitbag at his feet and kicked it aside to slide across the floor, which had been polished by Josie on her knees, and slam into the wall. He yanked open the door of the office, gestured with his cap and said in a low voice that rumbled deep in his chest like distant thunder, ‘Perhaps we can discuss this in private.’

  Josie plucked up the front of her skirt with one hand and walked past him into the office with her head held high. From the corner of her eye she glimpsed Annie scuttling away down the passage to the kitchen. She expected Tom to slam the door but he did not. She turned in front of the fire in time to see him shut it firmly but quietly. He pointed to the chair at the fireside, wordlessly, and Josie took it. Then he stood before the desk, half the room between them. Josie had to tilt back her head to look up at him. His frame filled the window, blocking out the light. She could have wept.

  He asked, ‘Well?’

  Josie faced him across that desert and echoed, ‘Well?’

  ‘I take it you have an explanation for the presence of these people?’

  ‘I have.’ Josie was miserable but hid it and replied coolly, ‘You wish to hear it – without interruption?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Very well. This is a big house, an expensive house to run—’

  Tom broke in, pointing a finger. ‘I left you an authority to draw funds.’

  Josie snapped, ‘You also said you would not interrupt. Yes, you left funds and they were ample to keep myself and the child and for that I thank you. But I repeat, this is a big house, and it takes a great deal of work just to keep it clean. But you may also have noticed that the exterior needs painting. Doubtless if Mr Langley and his son had lived the matter would have been taken in hand, but as it is the work still needs to be done. That takes money. So I took in Annie and Kitty to help me with the work, the seamen because what they pay me for lodgings will more than cover the cost of keeping this house in a fit condition and show some profit besides. I also took in a man who had been a soldier to help with the heavy work about the place. There is your explanation.’

  Tom scowled down at her. ‘Why this pregnant girl? There are plenty of honest women who would work here.’

  ‘She is an honest woman!’ Josie glared at him. ‘But she was betrayed by a scoundrel. And when I took her in it was because we were both lonely and frightened. You will remember there was just the child and myself in this house.’

  Tom was silent a moment, then said, ‘I see. And Kitty? What about her? Are you aware she staggers home, drunk, from some public house every night?’

  ‘I helped to pull her out of the river when she fell in one dark night. She was homeless, would not go back to the room she had and I could not put her out on the street. Could you?’

  Tom took a turn across the room and back, long, fast strides, brooding. He stopped and addressed Josie again: ‘The sailors; I have been one myself and I know that mostly they are more sinned against than sinning, but they are rough-and-ready men in a rough-and-ready profession. They are not innocents. They have their faults, drink for instance—’

  Now Josie butted in: ‘And bad language. I do not permit it in my hearing. The drinking I do not allow at all. A drunken man will not cross the threshold and I established that rule at the beginning.’

  Tom blinked at her. ‘You did? How?’

  ‘I suggest you ask one of them. Dougie Bickerstaffe will give you a true acco
unt, though I admit he is prejudiced in my favour.’

  Tom prowled across the room and back again like a caged tiger. ‘You seem to have an answer for everything, but I am not happy with this state of affairs. William Langley left this house and the child in my care. He also left his reputation and I think I have failed him in all three.’ He stopped to glower out of the window. ‘He would turn in his grave if he saw how this house – his house – was being used.’

  Josie said, ‘I don’t think he would.’

  Tom glanced over his shoulder. ‘You did not know him.’

  Josie had thought she had known her grandfather but in recent weeks she had changed her mind. She replied, ‘I have come to know him by reputation. I know he often helped Kitty home. I know he took you in—’ She stopped there, and quickly apologised. ‘I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.’

  Tom had spun around on his heel to face her, angry. But then he nodded. ‘Yes, it was. He was a hard man with high standards but he would help anybody in need – if he thought they deserved it. He let the thieves and the lazy go to hell.’ He was still for long seconds while he stared down at Josie. Finally he said slowly, and as if surprised by the discovery, ‘I think – possibly – he would approve of what you did.’

  Josie let out a silent sigh of relief and smiled at him. ‘Thank you.’ She rose to go and then remembered. ‘I have been using the desk while you were away. You will find a small account book in there. It shows a record of my dealings and you will see I used little of the money you left me and made a profit.’

  Tom turned to the desk, found the book and opened it. He scanned the figures inside then looked across at Josie and said, grudgingly impressed, ‘You’ve done very well.’

  Josie smiled again, basking in his meagre approval, and said eagerly, ‘The money is in an account I opened at the bank.’ She had also opened another to save what she could from her small wage. ‘It may help towards reopening the yard.’ And when he stared at her, dumbfounded, she went on, ‘That is your objective, isn’t it?’

  He laughed bitterly. ‘My dream, more like. Your profit’ – and he waved the book – ‘and my pay, if we saved them for a year they wouldn’t be enough to open the yard for a single day.’ He saw her mouth droop and said quickly, ‘But I meant what I said, you have managed remarkably.’ He put the book back in the desk, hesitated a moment then said, ‘I suggest we let this matter rest while we think it over.’

  ‘Very well,’ Josie agreed, though she decided she would not be going back on what she had done. So there would be another row at some time in the future. She looked at him across the space between and said, ‘If you will excuse me?’

  ‘Of course.’ Tom reached the door in two of his long strides and held it open, looking down on her, stiffly formal, as when he had ushered her in. Josie left the room as she had entered it, straight in the back and head held high – but her heart no longer in her mouth.

  She paused a second in the doorway to look up at him. ‘And you will see I am now adequately chaperoned, Captain Collingwood, so there will be no need for you to seek lodgings; you can occupy your own room.’ Then she swept on, having had the last word.

  In the kitchen, peering out along the passage through the half-open door, Annie whispered, ‘Did they have a row?’

  Kitty Duggan, standing at her side, sniffed. ‘Aye. You can see that by the look o’ them. And this time they fought a draw so there’ll be another tussle or two.’ Then they backed into the kitchen and busied themselves there as Josie approached. Tom climbed the stairs, kitbag on his shoulder, heading for his room.

  Josie looked around the kitchen brightly. ‘Is everything all right?’

  Annie answered quickly, ‘Oh, aye.’ And Kitty nodded, glancing sidewise as she stood at the sink peeling potatoes.

  Josie saw that Charlotte was playing happily with her doll, Amelia, and snatched her coat from its hook behind the door. ‘Then I’ll walk up to the shops for a few things.’ And she was gone, out of the back door and pulling on her coat.

  Annie said, ‘She’s happy enough, then. It can’t have been much of a row.’

  Kitty said grimly, ‘She’s not and I think it was. She’s gone for a good cry, I reckon.’

  She was only partly right. Josie fought back the tears of misery and rage, misery because of Tom’s attack on her, rage because he had made her miserable. Rage may have won because the tears did not come. Instead she vowed to go on doing what she thought was right, and fight every inch of the way if she had to.

  Tom unpacked his kitbag, quickly and methodically. Anger still simmered, but seamanlike he tried to take a commonsense view. He had not so much lost an argument as been given an explanation. And this Mrs Miller had only been right, it seemed, so far. He sat down on his bed and pulled off a sea boot. It was difficult to argue with her, but a pretty face did not mean she was invariably right. He had taken her on originally because she was there and her reference was good, but he could give her notice now. He shifted uneasily and told himself that finding a replacement would not be easy. And Charlotte was fond of Mrs Miller.

  He pulled off the second boot and decided it would be better to extend Mrs Miller’s engagement and keep an eye on her. But if he wanted to do that he would have to leave the sea. He stopped there. Give up the sea? He could not imagine that. It had been his life for seventeen years. Take a shore job? If he did he would still not make enough money to open the yard again, would probably earn less than he did commanding a ship. He wanted to go to sea and keep Mrs Miller. He swore out of frustration and hurled the boot across the room to bang against the door.

  The knock on the door came like an echo. He crossed to it on stockinged feet, yanked it open and barked, ‘Yes?’

  Kitty Duggan stood there with a large mug of tea in one hand. ‘I thought you’d be ready for this.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Duggan.’ Tom reached out to take the tea.

  ‘You should remember me.’ Kitty craned her neck to peer up at him. ‘You’ve seen me off and on since I skelped your arse twenty years ago for puttin’ a football through my window.’

  Tom’s ill temper faded. ‘I recall running a few errands for you.’ And afterwards there had been slices of cake, glasses of home-made ginger beer.

  Kitty nodded, then turned it into a jerk of the head, gesturing at the stairs behind her. ‘She’s a good sort, that Mrs Miller. You won’t find anybody with a word to say against her.’ And when Tom guardedly said nothing, she went on, ‘You’ll have to find out for yourself. But one thing I’ll tell you: I’ve been off the drink since I came here to live. I just have the odd bottle o’ stout by the fire last thing, that’s all.’

  Tom said politely, ‘Oh?’

  The little woman eyed him. ‘I know what you’re thinking, but it’s true. I used to go on the bottle because I was so bloody miserable and on my own. I’ve got company here and I’m happier.’

  Tom said sincerely, ‘I’m glad.’

  Kitty reached up to pat his cheek. ‘I always thought you’d turn out a fine young feller and a credit to the auld man.’ Then, as she turned away, she glanced down at Tom’s feet in their socks with a toe poking through. ‘You always had holes in your stockings then an’ all. Let me have them later on and I’ll darn them.’

  Tom drank the tea standing at his window and looking out over the square. A distant tugboat hooted on the river, reminding him of the sea. He decided he would have to give it up, a bitter decision – but he would think about it some more for a day or two.

  So they entered on an uneasy truce. Tom and Josie ate their meals in the dining room, waited on by Annie or Kitty. Charlotte ate lunch and tea with them but went to bed before dinner. Tom would have spoilt her but Josie would not allow it. ‘No, thank you, Captain Collingwood,’ she ruled, as he tried surreptitiously to slide a slice of cake on to Charlotte’s plate as Josie poured tea. ‘Charlotte! Eat some bread and butter first – cake later.’ And because it was Mrs Miller, Charlotte obeyed.

  Tom w
as out of the house for most of each day, investigating what opportunities there were for work ashore – and calling on Felicity at the Blakemore mansion in the country. Josie ran the Langley house and her staff of Annie, Kitty and Dan, while teaching Charlotte as well. At the end of a week Tom announced his decision that evening at dinner. They sat at the long table, Tom at its head, Josie an arm’s length away with Charlotte between, allowed to stay up because it was Saturday. As Kitty left the room after serving the main course, pulling the door to behind her, Tom said, ‘I’ve decided to take a shore job for a while.’

  Josie smiled, but it quickly faded. ‘May I ask why, Captain?’

  Tom met her gaze. ‘I think it would be better if I spent more time at home. My responsibilities lie here.’

  Josie thought, Because he does not trust me; because of what he found when he returned from his last voyage. But she was aware of the child by her side and said only, ‘I see.’

  He saw that she did and guessed that she was hurt and angry. He was not happy about it but thought he saw his duty clearly, and there was the child to remind him of it. ‘I must do what I think is right.’

  Josie agreed. ‘Of course.’ It was his sense of honour again. He had given his word to old William Langley that he would care for Charlotte and he would keep it, no matter what happened. As he had given his word to marry Felicity Blakemore next October.

  They went on with the meal in silence and ate little. Kitty, on the other side of the door with her ear clapped against the panel, listened to the silence then tiptoed away. But she went only as far as the foot of the stairs and sat there thinking. She stopped Annie later as the girl picked up the tray carrying the dessert. ‘I’ll do that,’ she said firmly, and took the tray from her.

  In the dining room she found Tom and Josie sitting stiff and wordless over the half-eaten meal while Charlotte talked to Amelia, the doll propped on another chair. Kitty cleared the previous course and served the dessert. Then she asked primly, ‘Can I say a few words, ma’am – Captain?’