Lovers Meeting

by Irene Carr

  Tom ripped open the envelope and read the note: Felicity had been distraught when he had not returned to take her to the ball. The ball? He remembered he had said he would be back in time to take her – and he was forty-eight hours too late. He muttered, ‘The damn ship sank!’ He read on: fortunately a friend of her father’s had escorted her. He had invited her family to his villa in Biarritz and she was going with them. ‘Everyone goes to Biarritz about this time.’ They would all be returning to London in a month or so.

  Tom crumpled the note and crammed it into his pocket. He could not write to her to tell her he could not, in all honesty, go on with the marriage. In the code of the time, a gentleman did not do that. He had to speak to her and her father. And until he did so he could not court Josie Miller, a girl in his service and in his house. That would seem like the seduction attempted by her former employer. He had to wait and keep his mouth shut.

  Josie had seen the note delivered, saw him scowling now and guessed Felicity was the cause. She was not singing as she made her way down the gangway. Kitty Duggan was hurrying along the quay towards her but still some way off. Josie stopped to greet Susie: ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I came wi’ Jarvis to get out o’ the way,’ Susie answered cheerfully. She was very smart in an expensive tailor-made motoring costume that showed her ankles. Josie thought it would be one of Felicity’s. Susie explained, ‘Everybody’s packing stuff to take out to France. I’ve done my whack and I wasn’t going to slave away doing theirs.’

  Josie queried, ‘France?’

  ‘That’s right. We’re off to that Major St Clair’s villa in Biarritz. The family went yesterday and me and a few more are going tomorrow.’ Susie grinned. ‘Your boss won’t half cop it when she gets back. She was bloody furious when he didn’t turn up to take her to the “do” the night afore last. The major took her. I haven’t seen him but they say he’s an officer in the French Army. While she was there she signed up another two bridesmaids. That makes six so far.’

  Now Jarvis returned and Susie skipped into the car, crying, ‘Ta-ra!’

  Josie walked on as the car pulled away, thinking, Six bridesmaids. Then Kitty was hugging her and demanding, ‘What’s the matter with you?’

  Josie answered, ‘Nothing, I’m fine.’

  Kitty disagreed. ‘You look as miserable as sin!’

  Josie forced a smile. ‘I’m just tired.’

  She was facing bitter reality. They were no longer at sea in a world of their own. She could not go on with this affaire. Sooner or later Tom would find out her true identity and conclude that this impersonation meant she was up to no good. And he was to be married to Felicity Blakemore in just a few months from now.

  Josie could see only one way out.

  23

  June 1909

  ‘I will now call this meeting of the Langley Shipping Company to order.’ Tom Collingwood’s tone was jocular but he had an unusual air of uncertainty about him. He stood in his office in the Langley house, his back to the empty fireplace; now they were moving into summer the fire was not needed on a fine day like this. In the square outside the children were playing barefoot. Josie sat upright in the swivel chair at the desk but was turned to face him. Kitty Duggan poised equally straight on the edge of the armchair. The morning sunshine winked on the brasswork of the fender around the fire.

  ‘It’s been a week now,’ Tom went on, ‘since we brought the Northern Queen into this river, the first fuss has died down and we’re now able to see our way more clearly.’ He grinned. ‘That means I’ve been to the bank and the manager, pending the salvage settlement and the insurance from the Macbeth, will let us have enough money to open the yard.’ He explained, ‘The insurance on the Macbeth will go a long way towards building a replacement. We can expect the court will award half of the value of the Northern Queen and her cargo. The owners of the salving vessel, the Macbeth or the Macbeth’s boat, will take up to three-fourths of that. The balance will go to the crew.’

  Kitty Duggan chuckled. ‘Dougie Bickerstaffe will be a happy lad.’

  Tom agreed, grinning. ‘Aye. And the rest of the lads. I just hope they don’t booze it away.’

  Josie said, ‘I don’t think Dougie will.’

  He had come to her a few days before and said gloomily, ‘I told Iris about the money I’ll be gettin’ but she still won’t have me.’

  Josie had replied, ‘I’ll have a word with her and see if I can help.’

  Dougie had brightened. ‘That’s good o’ you, Mrs Miller.’

  And Josie had warned, ‘I only might be able to help. I can’t change her feelings for you.’ But Dougie had gone away more hopeful.

  Now Tom continued more seriously, ‘But what I’ve said about opening the yard and building a successor to the Macbeth, that’s what I propose, but it occurs to me that either or both of you ladies might prefer to take your share and leave the partnership.’

  Now they saw the reason for his uncertainty. ‘For my part,’ said Josie, ‘I prefer to open the yard and build the ship.’

  Kitty agreed. ‘Hear! Hear! There’s ower many men standing idle. You can see them at their doors in this square.’ That was a fact and Josie nodded. Kitty summed up, ‘So we can give them some work and make the yard a going concern for Charlotte.’

  Tom laughed, relieved, the uncertainty gone. ‘Then I declare the meeting closed.’

  Kitty rose and made for the door but Josie paused to say, ‘It seems to have been some time since a photograph was taken of Charlotte.’ She explained about the albums she had found. ‘If you have no objection, I propose to take her to a photographer.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Tom agreed. Josie turned to the door then, but he called, ‘Mrs Miller, I have some letters to write but then I need to go down to the yard and get some idea of what needs to be done. I believe you’ve been there several times. Would you like to go with me?’

  Josie would, but she said, ‘No, thank you, Captain Collingwood. I’m afraid I have a great deal to do today. If you will excuse me?’

  ‘Of course.’ Tom watched her leave, his smile fading.

  Out in the hall, Kitty challenged, ‘What have you got to do today?’

  ‘I have to go and see how Iris is getting on and then take Charlotte to the photographer.’ This was true, though both errands could have waited, but Josie had decided she had made enough trouble for herself and would not become more deeply involved with Tom Collingwood. She bustled about, brushing Charlotte’s hair and dressing her in her best, then pulling on her own coat, putting on her wide-brimmed hat. As she passed through the hall with Charlotte, she turned aside into the house next door and put her head in at the door of the men’s common and dining room. Dougie Bickerstaffe sat by the fire in a new blue suit, a high stiff collar and a silk tie – ready, as Josie had asked him to be. Now she called, ‘Give me ten minutes’ start.’

  Dougie jumped to his feet. ‘Oh! Aye, righto, ma’am!’

  Josie walked round to the shop in Dame Dorothy Street, holding Charlotte by the hand and answering her unending stream of questions. The shop had the name above it: Langley and Co. There was a window either side of the door and in one was fruit and vegetables, in the other bacon, butter, cheese and eggs. Two or three women were in there, long skirts sweeping the sawdust on the floor and baskets over their arms, gossiping as they waited to be served by Iris Taylor.

  Iris called cheerfully, ‘Hello, Mrs Miller. I’ll be with you in a minute.’

  And, quick to serve, she was as good as her word. As the shop emptied, she turned to Josie. ‘We’ve got a minute or two, now.’

  Josie released Charlotte’s hand. ‘Why don’t you pile up the potatoes for Iris like she showed you once before?’ Charlotte went willingly. It was a familiar game: stacking the potatoes into pyramids.

  Josie turned to Iris: ‘You’re doing well.’ She had been looking at the books for the shop only the night before. ‘Captain Collingwood has contracted for a ship to take the place o
f the Macbeth for the next few months and she’ll be bringing your stuff down as before. There’ll be a delay of a day or two before the next delivery but you’ll just have to buy locally to bridge that gap. It will mean less profit but that can’t be helped. Is that all right?’

  ‘That’s fine.’ Iris nodded with the confidence of competence.

  Josie asked, ‘What about Dougie?’

  ‘What about him?’ But Iris was blushing.

  ‘Has he been around to see you since we got back?’

  ‘He has. He says he’ll be coming into some money from bringing that ship in. He wants me to marry him.’

  ‘And you can’t make up your mind?’

  Iris laughed ruefully. ‘I made up my mind long ago. I’d marry him tomorrow but like I said before, a sailorman, he’d be here today and gone tomorrow for weeks or months. That hasn’t changed. Money and sailors are soon parted. When he gets this cash it’ll run through his fingers and he’ll be as broke as ever.’

  Josie smiled and suggested, ‘You’d better look for some young chap that’s careful with his money, then.’

  ‘No!’ Iris was definite about this, angry at the suggestion. ‘There’s never been anybody like Dougie, and there won’t be anybody else.’

  Josie shook her head. ‘You’re in a fix, then.’

  Iris smiled lopsidedly. ‘I might marry him anyway. Not for the money, ’cause I won’t see it. Just because I won’t be able to say no to him no longer.’

  ‘You could have a contract.’

  Iris blinked, taken aback. ‘A contract? What d’you mean?’

  ‘An agreement. You’d be equal partners in a business and Dougie would put in his money as his share. You’d agree to take so much each out of the business. That way he wouldn’t be able to throw the money away and when he was ready to give up the sea he could work in the business.’

  Charlotte said, ‘Can we go and see the ducks?’

  Josie answered, ‘Later. We want some things from the shops first.’

  Iris said, ‘You mean, go to a solicitor?’

  ‘No.’ Josie shook her head. ‘Just write it out on a sheet of paper and you both sign it.’

  Iris said doubtfully, ‘Would that be legal?’

  ‘Dougie would think so.’ They smiled at each other, conspirators.

  Then Iris asked, ‘But what business? And you said equal partners. I couldn’t put up nothing ’cept what I’ve saved since I came up North.’

  ‘I’m talking of my one-third share of this business. As a going concern, free of debt, with the rent paid for this quarter. I’m giving it to you.’

  Charlotte asked, peering up at Josie, ‘What sort of things do you want at the shops?’

  Josie countered, ‘What sort of things would you like?’

  Iris had her hands to her cheeks, framing her face, her mouth a round O. Then she whispered, ‘Give it to me? You’re pulling my leg.’ And as Josie shook her head: ‘Why?’

  ‘Never mind why. Let’s just say I don’t want the bother of it any longer. There are two conditions, mind.’ Josie looked at her watch.

  Iris said wryly, ‘There’s always a catch. What conditions?’

  ‘That you keep this to yourself. This is just between you and me.’ Then she continued quickly, her eyes on the door and before Iris could ask further questions: ‘And when Dougie walks in through that door you’ve got to kiss him.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Agreed?’ And as Iris still stared, blushing again, Josie pressed, ‘Agreed?’

  ‘Yes,’ Iris nodded. ‘But—’

  Charlotte asked, ‘I want some sweets. Can we go now?’

  ‘Yes.’ Josie took her hand as Dougie Bickerstaffe took off his cap and entered the shop. Iris looked from him to Josie, who nodded and said, ‘Contract, remember.’

  As she led Charlotte from the shop, Iris put her arms around Dougie’s neck and kissed him.

  Josie thought she had taken a step towards the end of her journey and it gave her no pleasure.

  ‘No, I don’t want to!’ Charlotte proved difficult at the photographer’s studio. She was wary of the equipment and suspicious of the photographer’s smirking attempts to placate her. ‘I want to go to see the ducks.’

  Josie said patiently, ‘I said we’d go later and we will, but not if you don’t behave.’

  Charlotte pouted sulkily. ‘I don’t like that thing.’ She pointed at the camera.

  ‘It won’t hurt you.’ Josie crouched on her heels to come eye to eye. ‘I’ll tell you what: I’ll ask the gentleman to take a photograph of the two of us together, then one of you on your own.’ She met Charlotte’s gaze, full of distrust, and was hard put to it not to laugh. To hide it she urged, ‘Now, come on.’

  So Josie sat very straight on her chair as her mother had done in the photographs in the album, with Charlotte standing solemnly by her knee. The photograph was taken and then, while Josie chattered brightly, another of Charlotte alone. Josie gave a sigh of mixed relief and triumph.

  The Langley household was now on a normal footing and Tom, Josie and Charlotte ate their meals together in the dining room.

  ‘Somebody’s writing to you from France.’ Kitty laid the bundle of post beside Tom’s plate as they sat at breakfast, two days after Josie’s talk with Iris.

  Tom ripped open the top envelope that Kitty had indicated and Josie thought, From Felicity? Kitty asked, ‘From your feeansee?’

  Josie said, ‘Kitty!’

  Tom snapped, ‘Yes, it is!’ He scanned it, frowning, then said stiffly, ‘The weather is glorious out there.’ That was the only information of note in two scrawled sheets of gossip. He concentrated on opening the other letters. But he was in good humour those days, though often abstracted because he was deeply involved in negotiations with the bank and in starting up the Langley yard again. Minutes later he looked up with a smile, ‘I wrote to Harry Varley – he’s working in a yard on the Clyde – and he’s willing to come back to us as manager. That’s good news.’

  Kitty had bustled in with more toast, just in time to hear this remark, and she put in, ‘Aye, that’s good news. I don’t know if mine is.’ When they looked at her she went on, ‘Iris is in the kitchen and she’s got an engagement ring on her finger. It came from that Dougie Bickerstaffe. I hope she knows what she’s doing. I know what these sailors are like.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Tom addressed her back, grinning, as Kitty marched out. Then he laid down the letter. ‘I’ve got to find a lot more of the staff. I’ve taken on twenty of the old hands, with a foreman, to start cleaning up the yard ready for work.’ Josie knew this. She had been to the yard when he was not there and had seen the men at work. He went on, ‘But it won’t be so easy finding the old staff. There was Dobson, the chief draughtsman, and Williams, his second. I wrote to both of them but they’ve moved and left no address.’

  Josie asked Charlotte, ‘How do you get so sticky?’ And wiped the child’s face clean of marmalade as she told Tom, ‘Dobson is working for Gray’s yard at Hartlepool and Williams is with Ropner’s at Stockton.’ She turned back from Charlotte and found Tom staring at her. She explained, ‘Sammy Allnutt, the watchman at the yard, can tell you where they’ve all gone.’

  Tom laughed. ‘Well, I’m damned. You continue to surprise me, Mrs Miller. I’ll go down and see him. Would you care to come along?’

  ‘Thank you, but no, Captain Collingwood.’ She searched for an excuse. ‘It’s time Charlotte caught up with her lessons.’

  Charlotte protested, ‘I don’t want to do lessons. Yesterday you said we could go to the yard and see Sammy today. I like Sammy.’

  Josie automatically corrected her, ‘Mr Allnutt.’ She kept her head in the face of this betrayal. ‘I’m sorry, but I wasn’t thinking at the time. You must keep up with your lessons. That is most important.’ And to Tom, in an aside and not meeting his eye, ‘She has fallen behind in recent weeks because of my absence.’

  Tom said curtly, ‘As you wish.’ He left the ta
ble and stalked out. He strode down to the Langley yard in a black mood. He was sure Josie was avoiding him and could guess why: he was engaged to be married to Felicity Blakemore. This morning’s letter had been a sharp reminder of that. He swore.

  Back in the Langley house, Charlotte asked, ‘Is Uncle Tom cross?’

  Josie lied miserably, ‘No, not at all. Now finish your breakfast.’

  Afterwards they went to the kitchen and admired Iris’s engagement ring. Annie asked, ‘What changed your mind at the end? ’Cause you’d turned him down half a dozen times.’

  Iris laughed shyly and glanced at Josie. ‘We came to an agreement. I can’t tell you no more than that.’

  Kitty asked, ‘Is he giving up the sea?’

  Iris shook her head. ‘He says he could afford to but he doesn’t want to. He says Captain Collingwood is hoping to get a ship soon and has promised him a berth. He’s keen to go ’cause he thinks the world o’ the captain.’ Now she was staring at Josie, who looked away. She had not known Tom was about to get a ship. But did it matter?

  Afterwards, when they were alone in the kitchen save for Charlotte playing with her dolls in one corner, Kitty said, ‘Now there’s only the other lovebirds to worry about.’

  ‘What? I’m sorry,’ Josie apologised, ‘I wasn’t listening.’

  ‘I said,’ repeated Kitty, ‘that there’s still the other courting couple: Annie and Dan. He’s mooning around here every minute he can spare from that chandler’s, and she’s watching out o’ the window for him when he isn’t here.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ And Josie had given the affair some thought.

  ‘I wish they’d make their bloody minds up,’ Kitty grumbled.

  ‘Kitty!’ And with a glance at the door leading to the house, ‘How can I ask the men to control their language in here if you—’

  ‘Well …’ Kitty’s complaint subsided into muttering. Then she said: ‘But we sorted ourselves out quicker in my time. We knew what we wanted. Seems to me some young women today can’t see opportunity when it’s under their noses every day.’ The door slammed behind her.