by H D Coulter
“Mason, can I have a word?” Mr Goldstein barged through the office door, followed by George.
“Sorry, sir,” George muffled, before Mr Goldstein slammed the door in his face.
Joshua jumped to his feet behind the desk, almost knocking his chair over. “What can I do for you today, Mr Goldstein, everything is running in order.”
“I have no doubt, Mason; it is not your work capability that is in question here.”
“Forgive me, sir, is something a miss?”
Mr Goldstein dismissed the notion to sit and remain fixed on the spot, glaring at Joshua. “I hate to be so blunt, but are you aware of what your wife is up to when you are at work?”
Joshua let out an involuntary laugh at the surprised question. “Caring for our child, I presume.” he removed the smile off his face at the snarl on Mr Goldstein’s. “Forgive me sir, but why do you ask what my wife, Mrs Mason, gets up to?”
“I have it on very good authority that Mrs Mason has been attending a meeting at the Negro house.”
“At our servant’s house?”
Anger gave way to disappointment. “No man, at the abolitionists meeting house – now it is not my place to concern myself with your wife’s affair’s but if she is in with that troublesome crowd then it needs to stop. What they are about could destroy a lot of livelihoods... including your own.”
“I am not aware of her attending any meeting, sir, and do not know how she would learn of them. Who has been saying this?”
“A man that I trust, believes it to be so. – is her father not a reformer? I’ve heard about those English troublemakers and what they are trying to do. I hate to say, but bad blood will out.”
There were only two men in Boston who knew about Mr Lightfoot, and he knew George wouldn’t betray him. This is how Hanley was going to cause trouble. But it was a lie, it had to be. “Sir, that is my wife you are talking about.”
“You are a good man, Mason, but I think you need to get your home in order. I cannot have a man working for me when he has a wife causing no end of trouble for my company. It makes me question where his loyalties lie.”
Joshua held his hands up in front and lowered his voice. “It must be a mistake, sir; I am loyal to this business and what you are trying to build for the future of this company and this country.” All this could cause the railroad position to disappear. “I will speak to my wife tonight and get this matter resolved.”
“Make sure you do, Mason, for all our sakes. – this might be a free state for some, but we all know where the Negros belong in all this.” The last part confirmed Joshua’s fears and suspicions. He kept his head down and nodded, unable to agree with the last part. “Good, we will say no more about it for now.” Mr Goldstein declared as he slammed his hand on the back of the wooden chair.
The owner briskly left the office and slammed the door behind him as Joshua slumped into his chair. After a couple of minutes, George peered his head around the corner of the door.
“I thought you might need this.” he held out a glass holding a large measure of whiskey. “I have a small bottle hidden for occasions such as this.”
Joshua tapped a cigarette out on his silver case and lit it. After taking a deep inhale, took the glass and swallowed the drink in one. It was American whiskey, not as smooth as the Scottish variety he was used to, but it did the job.
“I need to get home and speak to Bea.” Joshua stood from his chair and finished the cigarette in his hand.
“Do you think there is any truth to it?”
“Knowing Bea, yes, she has her father’s spirit and looks for a cause to fight – but I don’t think she realises at what cost.”
“Who would have known and told Mr Goldstein?”
“Hanley – he is making his move. He must have found out somehow and told Mr Goldstein – he means to cause trouble and divide within; I won’t let that happen – but how could she.” Joshua could feel the anger rise inside.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“I will find you at your lodgings if I need you – thank you, George.”
Joshua picked up a few things off his desk and made his way out of the office, flicking his pocket watch out before shoving it back in his vest. Leaving George hovering on the spot.
ON THE RIDE HOME, JOSHUA kept reeling over certain parts. He had overlooked Bob’s involvement with the reformers, as in the end they had served a purpose. He remembered once that Bea had mentioned hiding outside the pub to hear the meetings and wanted to be a part of it but this. Not telling him she was now a part of the abolitionist movement and how it would look like to his employers. She probably guessed he would be against it and decided not to tell him, and yet that made it more disappointing that she lied. – Is that what his marriage it based on, secrets and lies. After everything else she had put him through, he now had to contend with this.
By the time he had reached the door, his blood was surging through his body, and he could no longer hide his anger.
“Bea.” He yelled out, slamming the front door shut. He rode into the sitting room and noticed a strange, distinctive smell lingering in the air. He could hear her feet running up the kitchen steps. “Bea, is it true?”
She followed his voice and ran into the sitting room in a panic. “Is what true? What are you talking about?” She came to a stop when she saw his face.
He took another step towards her; she could feel the anger emitting out of him. “Have you learnt nothing – on top of everything else I hear you’re involved in the movement?” He saw the frightened look on her face. She had never seen this hidden side of him before. Few people had.
“What are you talking about Joshua – and please calm down you are scaring me.”
His restless feet paced on the spot, causing Bea to take a step backwards. “We have – I,” pointing hard at his chest. “Have worked hard to establish us here, in this community, and all the while you have been going behind my back and attending meetings.”
“At the meeting house, yes, why is that a problem?”
“You are an abolitionist?” He snapped.
“Why should that surprise you, what is wrong with that – I mean, Sarah?” She gestured down the stairs.
“That is different.” He brushed away the air with his hands.
“How? Boston, Massachusetts is a free state, why shouldn’t we stand up for what is right, slavery is evil or are you saying differently?” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at him, daring him.
“Of course, slavery is an evil act, we should treat no one like that.” She took a step toward him; she wasn’t backing down.
“In the south they do, and it needs to stop. People need to be aware of what they are doing. It is a just cause to fight for.”
“You sound like your father.”
Her tone rose as she took another step closer. “What is wrong with that, I am proud of my Da. He helped to bring about change and fought for something he believed in and I am doing the same. It is in my blood – I have finally found my voice.” There was a different fire inside of her, a passion he hadn’t seen before and was proud of her, but it still needed to stop. Then a realisation hit him.
He took a step closer and stared her straight in the eye. “Be honest with me, is that where you were last night, helping them and not a poor charity?”
Her arms unravelled as they fell to her sides, as she cast her eyes downward. “Yes. They needed help. You should have seen the state they were in coming off the ship, bullet wounds and god knows what injuries across their bodies.” She lifted her gaze upward, pleading with him.
“You helped ex-slaves cross into the state?” Barely an inch between their faces, with anger and passion seeping from one into the other. He could have kissed her, but resisted.
“I helped Sarah and Miss Fisher to save them. They would have died otherwise.”
“And you don’t care what others think or how it will affect this family – This might be a free state but helping the
m cross the border is against the law... Never mind, abolitionists are still a taboo, many business owners are against what they are trying to bring about – and if you thought it so innocent, then why hide it from me – why did you not tell me? How long has it been going on?” Past pain broke through the anger as he took a step back from her.
“For nine months and I did not tell you – because I thought you would not understand – I wanted something that was mine - you are not a fighter like me.” She regretted the words the moment they exited her mouth.
“How dare you!” He boomed. “I fight every day for this family. I fought for your life, for our love, to bring us here and then fight for a position so that we can have a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs. You will never know how much I fight for this family.” Is this what she thinks of me after all that I have done? Does any of it matter?
In the corner of his eye, he saw her trying to reach out to him, but he couldn’t have her touch him. He would only crumble. “I know, I am sorry, I did not mean - there is a connection we share, Sarah and I, she understands my pain, she knows it.”
The words felt like they had pierced his heart. “Do we not, Beth and I?” He took a splinter from the fire and lit a cigarette and moved over to the whiskey.
“You both try to, but you do not know it, have felt it and though it is different circumstances, she has felt it and once I heard the stories of what other people go through, what the slaves go through, I couldn’t stand by idle. They are equal to us, the same as us, and yet how they are treated horrifies me.” He watched the tears pour down her face. What she was saying was true. But to him, this had become more than slavery. This was about them. About her lies.
“How much I wished I could have swapped places with you, that night and all the days after, to see the shell of the woman I love tore at me, made me feel helpless. – I tried to be there, to fight for us when you could not. I even accepted and love our child – is that not enough? But all the while you have been keeping a secret from me that could bring all this, all what I have been fighting for to its knees.” He put the empty glass on the mantlepiece and saw the burnt-out pipe sitting there. He picked it up and stared at it. That was what he had smelt, and there was only one person he knew smoked that tobacco. “What is this doing here?” He held the pipe in front of her and watched as her face changed. “Tell me he hasn’t been in my home... that you didn’t let him in while you were alone?”
“I didn’t have a choice, he pushed his way in and Sarah was here holding Grace, while I asked him to leave.”
Joshua threw the pipe in the fire, resulting in a cracking noise and a puff of smoke to billow out the grate, filling the room with his smell. “What did he want? Did he hurt you?”
“To cause trouble, to divide us but I told him that can’t happen.” The dense scent of Hanley’s tobacco caused her to wretch in her throat as she fought back images flashing in her mind.
“I think you’re right, I believe he is the one who told Mr Goldstein, that you are part of the movement.”
“He said he has been watching me.” He heard fear in her voice and wanted to comfort her. His arms yearned for her, but he couldn’t move.
“If that is the case, then you need to stop. No more meetings, helping people.”
“What, I should stay inside and hide, let him control my life again and become a shell of my former self? For the past three months I have been doing that and as a result, I watched you all worry about me and hear comments whispered in the corners. Which one is it? Snap out of it or hide?” She pulled at the lace around her wrist. Twisting it back and forth as it rubbed against recent scratch marks.
“No, I’m not saying that, but if he is watching you? Do you not see that your safety is at risk and the cost attached to this – I could lose my position...”
“Why – because your wife is an abolitionist?” She said in a dismissive tone.
“Yes - Mr Goldstein...” he paused, realising his own secrets. “Has connections I did not realise before and I don’t think – no, I know he wants to see an end to it and as for Mr Lowell...” He forgot he had not told her about the railroad.
“What has he got to do with it?”
“I was going to tell you once the deal is close to final – he has offered me a job to manage part of a railroad he wants to build – all with Mr Goldstein approval of course,” he tried to grab hold of her hand and clench it tight within his but she had turned her back. “– but do you not see what this job could do, more money means we could buy our own house with more land and garden.”
She spun round. “We don’t need that. Why? To replace what you have lost due to me?”
She was seeing it from the wrong angle again. “Yes and no – it’s not like that, but money brings security...”
Her hand dropped from her wrist and waved it back and forth in the air. “At a price, as long as you do as they command and me with it. – I told you, that day in the woods, when you choose to walk away, that money did not matter to me like it does to you.”
She still held that against him. “Why would you bring that up now? - But I chose you, no matter the consequence – now we can - I can have both – my parents didn’t bring me up in your world – money matters.”
“So, do lives, people matter more than money – that was the world I was brought up in – that if you find an injustice, you fight it.”
“Think of Grace, what your choices might cost her, - we could afford a governess, social standing, a suitable position...”
“I am thinking of Grace. None of that means anything if all we are teaching her, is that money means more than lives do. I’m not a society lady.” She pointed to herself, how false the grand dress looked compared to the old cotton blue dress she used to wear.
She still held the pure spirit that made him love her, and wished he could agree with the notion. “That is an ideal Bea. And if we are disgraced, then what? How will we place any roof over our heads if I can’t get a job, have you thought about that? Your actions have consequences. Last night, you broke the law by helping slaves to cross the border.”
“I know about consequences,” she blurted out. “I live with them every day, they are burnt into my mind and can’t get rid of them.” A sudden burst of anger emitted from her.
“Bea, I did not mean.... I don’t want to see you back there again. Back in a cell.” He reached his arms out to her, but she fought his gesture as she tried to hide back the tears.
“I won’t stop going.” She said, like a child refusing a parent. She twisted the lace around her wrist.
He grabbed her arms and pulled her close. The sorrow clear on her face defused the bomb inside of him. “What about what I want, does that matter?”
“You knew the person I was when you chose me.”
“I thought I did.” His hand fell from her arms. “It is the same conversation all over again – maybe we are too different – Hanley doesn’t need to break us apart; we do that all on our own. You want me to change for you, but you cannot change for me – where does that leave us?” He stepped away. He needed a drink and to work out the next step before he said something he would eventually regret.
“What are you saying, Joshua? I love you. That is the only thing that matters.” Bea tried to reach out to him, but he stepped back further.
“Sometimes love is not enough... I can’t keep doing this,” he muttered under his breath and made his way back towards the door.
“Joshua - where are you going?” He said nothing, but opened the door. “Please come back in and talk.” He ignored the tears building in her voice and calling out to him one last time before banging the door shut. Had the first time he walked away been the right choice all along?
Chapter 30
Hanley stepped back and watched as his plan unfolded. A simple mention of watching Beatrice enter the meeting house to Goldstein was sufficient for him to react. He knew what impact the abolitionist would have on Goldstein trade and bottom
line if they got their way. Fear was a powerful motive. No matter how much they tried to hide it, the two of them had barely changed. He had watched Joshua saunter around Beacon Hill like he owned it. Money and power held sway over him. As for Beatrice, she was still naïve to how the world really worked, believing she could make a difference and keeping lies to do so. He knew one word to Goldstein would force him to confront Joshua, which would then force him to confront Beatrice. It had worked perfectly.
Hanley stood in the shadows outside the house and listened to the argument. She had left him for that boy, and now she was seeing him for who he truly was. Hanley hadn’t imagined that after everything Beatrice had put Joshua through, that he would still stand by her, but he had. The boy had even claimed Hanley’s child as his own, - but that could never stand. Hanley listened to the cracks form in their relationships. All their emotions they had buried came spilling out. Neither one listening to the other. He watched Joshua leave the house whilst Beatrice called out after him. He gave Joshua a head start, guessing where he would head to and listened to Beatrice break down over the fear of losing him. There was a slither of sorrow for her, but it was all her own doing. If only she had chosen him. None of this would have happened. Hanley climbed into the waiting carriage and followed Joshua to the tavern. Grinning with anticipation of the entertainment about to ensue.
HE SLITHERED IN AND sat at a nearby table, close enough to overhear the boy and his puppet talk.
“She didn’t want to listen. None of what I wanted made any difference.” Said Joshua.
“Did she explain why?” Asked George.
“She wants to fight the cause, make everyone equal and expose the injustice of the south – which I understand and in different circumstances, I would support. And yet, we can’t risk all that I have built. We need to keep our past a secret – something I wouldn’t have to do if she...” Hanley grinned at Joshua’s words. It had been easier than he thought to tear them apart.
