Lovers Meeting

by Irene Carr

Josie looked up at her from wiping Charlotte’s mouth, then across at Tom. He said, curious, ‘I should think so. What is it?’

  Kitty bobbed her head in thanks. ‘When my man was lost it got about that he’d done some bad business and not left me much.’ Kitty sniffed indignantly. ‘I let them think that because he always used to say, “Never flash your money in a bar.” By that he meant that if you shout about how much money you’ve got somebody will try to get it off you. So I kept quiet about what I had left. It was enough to buy me an annuity that would keep me in comfort. But then there was the Macbeth.’

  ‘Macbeth?’ Tom frowned, searching his memory. ‘Wasn’t she—’

  ‘Aye,’ Kitty nodded. ‘She was his first ship. Kitty Macbeth was my maiden name. She was old and he’d left her laid up in the Tyne for a year while he sailed the new ship. But I used to sail with him in the Macbeth. Good days they were …’ Her voice trailed away and she was silent a moment, remembering, then shook her head impatiently. ‘Anyway, there she lay, and there she lies still. Over the years nearly all my annuity has gone to pay her charges. I couldn’t bother to use her and I couldn’t bear to part with her.’

  Tom said gruffly, ‘I can understand that.’

  Josie reached out to squeeze the old woman’s hand, and said softly, ‘Thank you for telling us.’

  Kitty blinked. ‘I haven’t finished yet. Y’see, I’ve been thinking that I’ve been a daft ould woman. Instead o’ me keeping up the ship all these years, she should ha’ been keeping me. So I was wondering’ – and now she looked at Tom – ‘would you like to go into partnership? I put up the ship and you skipper her? O’ course, she’s only good for the coastal trade, but properly handled she should make a profit.’

  Tom thought that might be the case. And the voyages would be short and he would be home for a day or two every week or so.

  He would not have to give up the sea.

  He said slowly, ‘I thought I’d try for a berth in the coastal trade but there are skippers queuing up for that kind of work.’

  ‘You’ll do it, then?’ Kitty urged.

  Tom nodded decisively. ‘That I will!’

  Kitty clapped her hands with glee. ‘We’ll all profit.’

  Tom questioned, ‘All?’

  Kitty corrected herself quickly. ‘I mean the partners.’

  ‘I’m not too sure about the profit,’ said Tom drily, staring off into the distance, calculating. ‘We’ve got to make her fit for sea because I’m not sailing a coffin ship and that will cost money, though I can find it; the banks will lend it to me for that. Then we’ll have to find a crew, cargoes—’

  Josie saw the change in him, from stubborn determination to eager optimism. She realised this was because he would still be going to sea. But not for long. He would not sail away for months or years. She turned quickly, a smile spreading, and caught a self-satisfied smirk on Kitty’s face, but it vanished before Josie’s stare.

  Josie said, ‘That sounds like a good idea. Thank you, Kitty.’

  Tom got up from the table. ‘It’s too late to look at the Macbeth tonight but I’ll go through to the Tyne tomorrow. Now, we’ll need a name to trade under. How about the Langley Shipping Company? Because I’m doing this for Charlotte and William.’

  Kitty shrugged. ‘That’s fine wi’ me. Now all I want—’

  But Tom was going on: ‘Tonight I’ll draft the terms of our partnership and when we’ve both agreed on it I’ll get a lawyer to write it up legally.’

  Kitty protested, ‘There’s no need for that. Your word’s good enough for me.’

  But Tom would not have that. ‘I knew your husband and I know he would want your rights protected properly. So we’ll have a legal agreement.’

  Kitty gave in: ‘If that’s what you want. There’s only two things I ask.’ She was looking at Josie now.

  Josie asked, ‘What are they?’

  ‘That we go on just as before, me in the kitchen working for you. Y’see,’ Kitty put in quickly as Josie opened her mouth to protest, ‘I’m happy like that, so I don’t want to change.’

  Josie looked up at Tom because this was his house as Charlotte’s guardian. He nodded and Josie said, ‘All right, Kitty. Now, you said you wanted two things; what was the other?’

  ‘I want you to be a partner as well, because you got me out o’ the river and you’ve given me a new life here.’

  Josie, after a moment’s dumbfounded silence, exclaimed, ‘Oh, no! You don’t owe me anything. I’m only too grateful for your help with the house.’

  Tom first looked startled, then thoughtful. This woman as a business partner? A … governess? Housekeeper? He could see no point in it, but the ship belonged to Kitty Duggan and if she insisted …

  And now Kitty said firmly, ‘That’s what I want. If the pair of you don’t agree to that, I’ll agree to nothing and the old Macbeth can rot at her moorings.’ And she started for the door.

  Josie stopped her: ‘Wait! Please!’ She did not want this for herself, but she wanted it for Tom. ‘Very well. Thank you. I’m very grateful, but I warn you, I know little of ships or shipping.’

  ‘You’ll learn, I reckon.’ Kitty looked at Tom. ‘Well?’

  He said, ‘You mean Mrs Miller will be a—’ He stumbled over his words, then went on: ‘Will not be taking an active part.’ He had almost said ‘sleeping partner’. Josie knew it and coloured, turned her back to them and fussed over lifting Charlotte down from her chair.

  Kitty knew it, too, and grinned at him. ‘If you like. But you might want both of us to take an active part afore we’re finished.’ She paused at the door a moment longer to say – ominously again – ‘You’ve not seen the old Macbeth yet.’

  16

  ‘My God!’ said Tom under his breath. ‘She’s filthy!’ The three partners of the Langley Shipping Company had come to inspect their vessel and stood on the quayside in Newcastle.

  Josie heard him, looked quickly at Kitty Duggan, but the old woman had not caught the hushed comment, was gazing proudly out at the ship where she lay at her moorings in the Tyne. Josie looked up at Tom and said brightly, ‘She looks very nice.’

  But Kitty heard that and snorted. ‘No, she doesn’t! She’s thick wi’ muck and rust!’

  The Macbeth was also small. Josie could not believe that this ship would actually venture to sea. She had only one hold. Forward of this was the little forecastle where the crew would live. Aft in the stern was a superstructure that housed the saloon where the master and the mate ate, two tiny cabins – and the galley. On top was the bridge and wheelhouse. Now Kitty went on, ‘But we might as well get out there and have a good look at her while we’re all here.’

  Josie had announced at breakfast, flushed and excited at the novelty, ‘I got up early and packed a lunch for the three of us and did most of the work for the men’s meals. Annie can manage the rest and look after Charlotte.’

  Tom stared at her, surprised. ‘You’re coming?’

  ‘Well, I am a … a partner.’ Josie was careful to keep her eyes on her plate. ‘So I think it’s my duty to go and see the ship. One must always discharge one’s responsibilities.’ She looked at him now.

  Tom realised she was paraphrasing his own words and his eyes glinted dangerously. But then he admitted, ‘I agree.’

  Now Tom hailed a boatman plying for hire and he rowed them out to the Macbeth. A Jacob’s ladder hung down her rusty side. It was not a long ladder because the little ship’s deck was not far above water. Tom climbed it first then waited on the deck above them. Josie had not expected this. She needed both hands to climb the ladder. Before she started she could feel the wind driving upriver and flapping her long skirts about her ankles. Then Kitty addressed the boatman: ‘You keep your eyes inboard!’

  ‘Oh, aye, missus.’ And he dutifully studied his boots as Josie mounted the short ladder. At the top she had the obstacle of the bulwark to surmount, but Tom seized her under the arms and lifted her over, set her down on the deck.

/>   ‘Thank you.’ Josie, flustered but laughing, shook her skirts to straighten them. She saw, ruefully, that already just one passage up the few feet of the ship’s side had left its marks of dirt and rust.

  Tom helped Kitty over the side then hauled up the picnic basket on a line, and the boatman sheered off. Tom said, ‘I’ll rig an accommodation ladder as soon as I can.’ And he made a note in the notebook he had brought for the purpose.

  It was the first note of many. Josie and Kitty went with him as he toured the ship. He refused to allow them to descend into the engine-room and went down alone. He emerged some time later smeared with dirt and coal dust and shaking his head. ‘The sooner I get an engineer to look at those engines, the better.’ But they went with him to examine the cabins in the superstructure, the damp, dark, dingy and odorous forecastle where the crew would live, and the galley where the food would be cooked. Josie made her own – mental – list of notes and shuddered at the galley.

  They paused at midday and lunched from the basket in the little saloon. Then they carried on, and only when the light was failing in the gathering dusk did Tom hail another boat to take them ashore. In the train, busy with his thoughts, he said, ‘I’ll come through again tomorrow, get an engineer aboard and start work on her.’

  Josie said, ‘So will I.’

  Tom was startled out of his preoccupation. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because there’s plenty to do.’ Then Josie amended: ‘Plenty that I can do, I mean.’

  Tom’s brows lifted in doubt. ‘You?’

  Josie affirmed determinedly, ‘Yes.’

  Kitty added, ‘And me.’

  ‘There’s the saloon.’ Josie ticked off points on slim fingers. ‘And the cabins, the galley—’ She wrinkled her nose in disgust, then went on: ‘The … the fo’c’sle—’

  ‘The fo’c’sle!’ Tom shook his head. ‘The crew look after that, as far as anyone does.’

  Kitty sniffed. ‘Aye, I’ve heard that. But I believe they take it as they find it, leave it as they finish with it and do damn all to it in between.’

  Josie said, ‘And I want to work my share of the partnership. These are all jobs that need to be done, you’ll not deny that.’

  Tom could not. He looked from one to the other then grinned and went back to his planning as he stared out of the window. So did Josie. While Kitty watched them, content to let them get on with it. And when at last they were home and Kitty and Josie were at work in the kitchen, Josie asked, ‘Will you tell me something about ships?’

  Kitty had been expecting the question and answered, ‘I’ll tell you what I can.’

  ‘Well, how do you get a crew and cargoes?’

  Kitty said, ‘You could go to the shipping office in Tatham Street for a crew but you could do as well or mebbe better right here.’

  So Josie asked Dougie Bickerstaffe. She and the young seaman stood in the kitchen on the morning after their first visit to the Macbeth and Dougie said, ‘Aye, you can count on me.’ Then he scratched at the curls cut short and close to his skull. ‘I dunno how many o’ the others, though. One’s already signed on in another ship and some won’t sail anything but deep-sea, long voyages, and they won’t have owt to do wi’ running up and down the coast.’

  Josie asked, ‘Then will you sound them out? And I suppose we’ll need an engineer.’

  Dougie nodded. ‘You’ll want an engineer and a couple of stokers but we don’t have none o’ them in here.’

  ‘What about the man who came in the day before yesterday,’ Josie suggested. ‘Simmie?’

  ‘Not him, neither,’ and Dougie explained. ‘See, he’s a sailorman, same as us. Now engine-room fellers, they’re different. We get on together, like, but they’ve got their ways and we have ours.’

  Josie told herself that she was learning, and shifted her ground. ‘Will you ask if any of them will sail with us? And whether they know an engineer?’

  ‘And stokers,’ said Dougie. ‘Right y’are, ma’am.’

  He returned to the kitchen in minutes with three other men treading on his heels. ‘Here y’are, ma’am. These are willing. And I’ve asked about the engine-room and got some names.’

  Josie smiled at them all. ‘Good.’ She whipped off her apron and hung it up. Then said, remembering what Kitty had told her: ‘Now, I hope you all have clean conduct sheets?’ They all nodded, albeit uneasily, and Josie picked on the new man, Simmie, because he was the one she knew least. ‘Why did you leave your last ship?’

  Simmie was short, squat and bullet-headed. ‘We was running coal up the coast to Aberdeen or thereabouts but the owner gave it up, paid all of us off and sent the ship to the breakers because she wanted a lot o’ money spent on her.’

  Josie was satisfied. ‘Now, Captain Collingwood will want to see you.’ Kitty had been definite on that, saying, ‘He’ll want to pick his crew. You can feed them to him but he’ll decide whether he ships them.’

  So now Josie tap-tapped along the passage and hall with the sailors clumping behind her. She knocked on the door of the office then opened it and announced, ‘There are some seamen here who would like to sign on, Captain Collingwood.’

  Tom stood up from his desk, at first frowning but then thoughtful as she ushered the men in and he sized them up – and they took their measure of him. He glanced at Josie and said, ‘Thank you, Mrs Miller.’ Josie shut the door and left them to it.

  She returned to the kitchen, donned her apron again and worked happily alongside Annie and Kitty.

  Another packed lunch had to be prepared, and meals made ready for the house this day, so Annie would be left with Charlotte and just enough work to manage while Josie and Kitty were aboard the Macbeth. There was one minor emergency when Kitty announced, ‘We’ve used the last of the flour and that shop down Dame Dorothy Street has shut down so one of us will have to go up to Dundas Street.’ That was ten minutes further to walk.

  Josie was familiar with the little shop that had been at the corner of Dame Dorothy Street. She asked, ‘Why did it close?’

  Kitty shrugged. ‘Not enough stock – and as soon as he made any money he spent it on drink.’

  Josie said, ‘I’ll go up to Dundas Street.’ And forgot about the empty shop – for the time being.

  Later, when she had returned from her errand, she heard the shuffle of booted feet in the hall. She hurried out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, and met Dougie Bickerstaffe and the men in the passage. Josie asked, ‘Well?’

  Dougie grinned at her. ‘He turned us over good and proper but signed us on at the end.’

  ‘Oh, good!’ Josie clapped her hands.

  The three of them – Tom, Josie and Kitty – and the crew, worked on the Macbeth all that week. Tom found an engineer and stokers and they toiled down below. Then a Lloyds Agent surveyed the ship and issued a Certificate of Seaworthiness. That cost ten pounds. On the Thursday Tom announced, weary but proud, ‘She’s ready for sea, but—’ He stopped.

  Josie questioned, ‘But?’

  ‘We haven’t a cargo yet, and so long as we’re without one, we’re losing money.’

  Josie was up early, as usual, the following morning. In spite of the hard work and long hours, she was happy. She sang as she worked, but her thoughts were still with the ship and the lack of a cargo. Then she stopped in the act of rolling out pastry for a pie, seizing on the thought that had slipped into her mind. She sought out Simmie and found the squat seaman in the common room. He had just finished eating his breakfast with the rest of the boarders and was sipping at a mug of tea. He moved to stand up when Josie approached him but she put her hand on his shoulder. ‘No, don’t get up. I just want to ask a few questions. You said the owner of your last ship had given up on the job?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘What was it?’

  Simmie told her and minutes later Josie pulled on her coat in the kitchen. As Dan Elkington carried in a bucket of coal for the kitchen stove she handed him a slip of paper on which she had written an a
ddress. ‘Do you know where those offices are?’

  Dan read the address. ‘Aye. If you cross over the bridge into the town—’

  ‘Will you show me, please?’

  A half-hour later Josie stood before the front door of an office. A polished brass plate was mounted on the wall by the door: Owen Packer, Solicitor. Below it was another that read: Coal Carriers Ltd. Josie passed through the front door into a hall with a smell of dust, carbolic and stale air. To her left was an open door leading to a room in which a big-bosomed young woman sat at a desk, pecking at a typewriter. She stopped and glanced at Josie as she knocked on the open door. ‘Aye?’

  Josie marked her down for lack of courtesy and said, ‘I would like to talk to someone in Coal Carriers Ltd.’

  ‘Ah! That’s Mr Packer. He’s Coal Carriers.’ The girl had a fringe of curls and her hair was swept up at the back. She poked at it with fat fingers and got up from her chair. ‘I’ll see if he’s in.’ Josie knew that meant. ‘I’ll ask if he’ll see you’. She waited as the girl crossed to another door and paused there to tease the curls, smooth the skirt over her hips and put on a smile. Finally she opened the door.

  Josie called clearly, ‘I want to discuss a profitable business enterprise.’

  The girl started and stumbled, glared over her shoulder at Josie, then passed through the door, the false smile reappearing as a simper. The door closed behind her but she emerged again almost at once, shot a cold stare at Josie and held the door open. ‘He’ll see you.’

  Josie walked past her, head high, and sniffed at the strong smell of cheap perfume. The door banged shut behind her. Packer, thin and cadaverous, got up from his desk and came round it to greet her. His smirk showed yellow teeth, and as he held out his hand to Josie his eyes ran over her. She halted and stretched out her arm so she touched his hand only with the tips of her gloved fingers, held him at a distance.

  ‘Good morning,’ said Packer. ‘Please sit down, Miss—’

  ‘Mrs Miller.’ Josie perched on the chair, stiff-backed, and peeled off her gloves to show the ring on her finger.

  Packer seated himself with pencil poised over notepad. ‘And what was this business opportunity? You wish me to carry out some legal work?’