John answered circumspectly, for it was never a good idea to show your cards this early in the game. ‘The cottage for living in, and the land for working,’ he said. ‘So now, if you want to tell me when and where the auction will take place, we’ll leave you to your paperwork.’ He couldn’t help but notice the piles of paper and files littered from one end of the desk to the other.
Scribbling the information on a piece of clean paper, the solicitor handed it to John. ‘The proper sale sheets are not yet available, but this is really all you need to know.’
John thanked him. ‘Can you at least give me an idea as to how much I’d be looking to pay?’
‘Once again, I can’t say for sure.’ Mr Leatherhead threw out his hands in frustration. ‘It all depends on so many issues.’
‘And what might they be?’
‘How many bidders want it. How badly they want it. What kind of money they have in their pockets for such a heavy commitment, because once they’ve bought it, they’ll need more capital to recover it to a workable entity.’
‘So, what would somebody be prepared to pay for it, d’you think?’ If he was going borrowing, he needed to know.
Lapsing into deep thought, the solicitor finally answered vaguely, ‘Twenty guineas … to two hundred. Probably more, maybe less. Like I say, it depends on what happens on the day. Such is the nature of auctions.’ That said, he would not be drawn any further. ‘I shall expect to see you there then?’
He shook their hands and bade them goodbye, and when they were gone, he told his sulky clerk, ‘Time-wasters. They haven’t tuppence ha’-penny between them. I doubt we’ll ever see them again.’
Over dinner that evening, Harriet listened to Archie and John’s account with interest. ‘So you mean to bid for this land and buildings, do you?’ Wolfing down a huge spoonful of apple pie and custard, she munched on that while John answered.
‘I’d be crazy not to,’ he replied. ‘It’s exactly what I need to get me started. There’s a place for me and Archie to live, a fair-sized building to set up as a workshop, and a useful parcel of land. First off, I’d rent the land out to bring in some sort of income, but later I’d hope to expand the business and use it myself – happen put up a couple more buildings, and a hard-standing.’ Outlining his plans, he grew excited. ‘With that kind of property, there’s all sorts of possibilities.’
Harriet reminded him, ‘Don’t forget, I’ve money put away if you need to borrow some.’
John had been thinking about that and it worried him that he should take money from her in her later years.
‘I can’t let you dip into your savings,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ve every intention of making the business a success, but it could easily go the other way. It’s been known to happen.’ To his mind it was too much of a gamble. ‘No, Harriet. Grateful though I am for your kind offer, I can’t accept.’
‘So where will you get the money, if not from me?’
‘From the bank. Lending money is what they do. I’ll make a plan of the site, and explain what I have in mind. I’ve saved a tidy sum of money myself, which I’m prepared to put up as a deposit. So they should realise how serious I am.’
‘All right – if that’s what you want.’
‘It is. But I won’t forget your kindness. Thank you.’
‘How much did the solicitor say it would go for?’
Before John could answer, Harriet’s attention was drawn to Archie, who was slurping his tea out of his saucer. ‘Stop it!’ Smacking the back of his hand, she chided, ‘Cats do that, not grown men. It’s disgusting!’
Looking sheepish, he replaced his saucer and wiping his mouth with the cuff of his sleeve, scooped up a spoonful of apple pie. ‘You’re a damned good cook, missus,’ he said, grinning. ‘I’ll say that for you. Tek it from one who knows.’
Loudly informing him that the apple pie had come from the baker’s, Harriet returned to her conversation with John. ‘Did he give you any idea of what the property might fetch?’
John recalled the figures mentioned. ‘He thought it might go for as much as two hundred guineas, maybe more.’
‘I see.’ The big woman sat and pondered. ‘And dare I ask how much you have already?’
John knew it to the last penny. ‘I’ve set aside forty-one pounds and two shillings – money got from blood, sweat and tears over a period of two years and more. That’s after I left a sum for my Aunt Lizzie back home.’
During the long time he’d been at sea, John had gone without, and refrained from spending needlessly. Time and again when the other crew-members went ashore to spend their money on women and booze, he stayed behind. Other times, when the ship was laid over waiting for cargo, most of the men lazed about after their work was done; or they gambled and womanised, while he took up work on the side, just so he could go back to Emily with more money in his pocket.
And what good had it done him, he thought bitterly. For over two years, in the middle of mighty oceans and on lonely foreign shores, he had dreamed of being with his Emily, and now his dream was gone and she was lost to him.
Would anything ever compensate for that? He doubted it.
‘You do realise you could lose it, don’t you?’
Visibly startled by the sudden interruption of his deeper thoughts, John apologised. ‘I’m sorry, Harriet, I didn’t hear you.’
She reiterated: ‘I was just saying that if the bank turns you down, and the bidding goes over your head, you could lose out to another buyer at the auction.’
John knew it only too well. ‘It’s a chance I’ll have to take,’ he said manfully.
Harriet didn’t argue. In fact, she was quite relieved. She had made him the offer of a loan earlier, only because she had all but promised in the first place, but now that she knew a little more, she was glad he’d refused. ‘I wish you the best of luck,’ she said, clearing away the dinner things. ‘I hope you manage to get it, and that things work out all right for you.’
For now, that was all she wanted to say on the subject.
Chapter 9
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, John decided to attend the bank alone. ‘You can wait for me in the Red Lion, if you want,’ he told Archie. ‘It might be better if I go to the bank on my own.’
‘I won’t argue with that.’ Archie was grateful for the chance to opt out. ‘I’d much rather be downing a jug of ale, than sit like a beggar with cap in hand, in front of some jumped-up clerk.’
‘It’s no good me talking to a clerk,’ John said. ‘For something as important as this, I need to see the manager.’
Archie wished him well. ‘I’ll get a jug of ale in for you,’ he said, before he hurried away. ‘I’ve a feeling you’ll be back before you know it; especially if the manager has a po-faced clerk like the one at the solicitor’s.’
John was optimistic. ‘I mean to have an answer one way or another,’ he promised, and with that he headed off in the direction of the bank.
Ten minutes later he was at the counter, and five minutes after that he was being ushered into the manager’s office. A small, shrewish man with a moustache, he exclaimed in a shrill voice, ‘Your luck must be in, young man! I should have been seeing somebody else, only they didn’t turn up.’ Obviously rattled at being let down, he informed John, ‘I can spare you ten minutes.’
When he was seated at the desk, with John sat before him, he took a moment to observe John, before asking, ‘Is it a new account you want to open, or are you after borrowing?’
John came straight to the point. ‘It’s both. I have money in my pocket to put into an account, but that will depend on whether you’re prepared to back my business venture.’
The manager leaned back in his chair. ‘Well, that sounds straightforward enough.’ He glanced at the fold of paper in John’s hands. ‘Is that for me to see?’
Spreading the paper on the desk, John told him proudly, ‘There are two plans here. This one’s a rough sketch of the property I intend buying at auction. The other is a layo
ut of the business I plan on starting, plus an account of the money I have and a rough guess at the money I might need to borrow. Last of all, you’ll find a detailed list of the work I’m skilled at. Oh, and you might be pleased to know, I already have one customer waiting.’
As John pushed the papers towards him, the manager leaned forward to peruse them. ‘I can’t promise anything, you understand?’
John’s heart sank. ‘I understand.’ What he really understood was that he would have to fight tooth and nail to get what he wanted. But then again, nothing ever came easy, not to such as himself it didn’t anyway.
Two hours later, John and his old shipmate returned to their lodgings, a bit the worse for drink and full of apologies as they came face to face with Harriet. ‘Been celebrating, have you?’ she asked, opening the door as she heard them fumbling for the key.
‘Not likely.’ Archie fell in the door. ‘The bastard turned him down! We’ve been drowning our sorrows,’ he added, then burped. ‘Oops, sorry, missus. That snotty-nosed toff looked at John’s well-laid-out plans, then turned him down flat. One customer wasn’t enough to get a business off the ground, that’s what he said.’
Harriet’s smile disappeared. ‘Is that right?’ she asked John. ‘He turned you down?’
Giving her a disheartened nod, John said, ‘I think I’ll go upstairs for a bit,’ and made his way straight up to his room.
‘There are other banks.’ Harriet’s voice followed him up the stairs.
It was Archie who answered. ‘He tried them an’ all. At first he just refused to give up. He marched me down to Victoria Street, where he managed to see the lending manager, but he wouldn’t help neither. Then we went on to that small bank on the corner near the docks. The manager was very nice, and he listened to what John had to say, but he wouldn’t lend him a penny. None of them wanted to help. I’ll tell you what though, Harriet, my old darlin’. They can’t see their noses in front of their faces. What! Give our John a year or two, and he’ll be earning more money than they are. The stupid bastards!’
Harriet gave him a slap on the arm. ‘That’s enough of the bad language!’ she chided. ‘Into the kitchen with you. It’s a good hot cup of tea you need and no argument!’ Before he could protest, she had propelled him unceremoniously into the kitchen.
‘He’ll not give up though,’ Archie told her robustly as he supped his cup of tea. ‘I know him. I know the kind of man he is, and he’ll not give up. You see if I’m not right.’
Upstairs, John laid the papers out on his bed. They none of ’em wanted to help, he thought sadly – yet he knew he could do it! He knew, too, that he had found the right place. Given the chance, he’d soon have the customers queuing at the door, only the money-men couldn’t see it. All they saw was a young, inexperienced sailor who thought he could set up shop against the big boys. Well, he could – and he would! He’d show ’em. He’d be at the auction, and God willing, things just might go his way after all.
John suddenly felt more optimistic. Who knows, there might not be enough bidders there to see him off. For one thing, the site was a mess, the outbuildings were falling down and the cottage needed a deal o’ work. It would take time, energy and money to put it all together, and not everybody wanted that kind of responsibility. But he did, and his hopes began to flicker again.
On the morning of the auction, Harriet waited until Archie and John had left to walk over to the site. A few minutes later, she stood at the hall-stand mirror, shifting the bonnet on her head this way then that, until she was satisfied that she looked the part. She fastened the buttons on her long coat, tied the fur tippet at her neck, and taking her big black handbag from the hallway table, let herself out of the house and went on quickening footsteps towards the town centre.
On arriving at the corner, she peered round to make sure Archie and John were not still hanging around in the neighbourhood. There was no sign of them. Good.
Harriet smiled secretly to herself as she hurried onwards. It would never do for John to know her intention. Right from the start she had seen him as a proud, but caring man, whose ambitions would take him far. It was a pity that no one else but herself had the foresight to see it.
A couple of miles away, John and Archie were walking along the canal, going around the site one last time. ‘There’s only two hours to go before the auction,’ Archie fretted.
Seeming not to have heard, John strode ahead, making notes as he went. ‘This place was meant for us,’ he called back to Archie. ‘It’s got everything we need.’
‘Don’t be too downhearted if you can’t secure it.’ Catching up to him, the little fella could see how desperately John wanted the property, but it was clear the odds were stacked against him from the off.
‘You can’t know how much getting this place means to me,’ John groaned. ‘I’m just praying that the money I have will be enough.’
‘Aw, look! Why don’t you have another word with Harriet? Ask her to go with you to the auction and if it looks like it’s going away from you, well, you could still borrow the money she offered.’
‘No!’ John wanted the conversation ended.
‘Why not? Good God, man! She said herself she’s got money put by. You can pay it back to her just the same as you would to a bank.’
John wouldn’t hear of it. ‘And why do you think she’s got money put by?’ he asked. ‘I’ll tell you why. Her savings have been scraped together over the years and kept safe for her old age, when she’s no longer capable of taking in lodgers.’
Archie persisted. ‘It weren’t you that asked,’ he argued. ‘She made the offer herself.’
‘All the same, I don’t want her to risk all her hard-earned money so’s I can buy a site and start a business that I can’t be sure will be a success. If I borrow money from a bank and fail, the worst thing they can do is throw me in jail. But if I borrow money from Harriet and fail, she’d have nothing to fall back on.’ John shook his head vehemently. ‘No, Archie. I won’t do it.’
‘So you’ll risk losing the site altogether?’
‘I’ll look elsewhere if I have to … at some other site that will match the money in my pocket.’ Though he knew he would be hard pressed to find one as suitable as this. ‘And that’s an end to it.’
A short time later they caught the omnibus back to the centre of Liverpool, and what they saw at the auction-house made John’s heart sink like a lead weight. ‘God Almighty, Archie, I thought I might be in with a chance, but now I don’t know.’
The place was heaving with would-be buyers: some in work-clothes, others in suits, and one or two shifty-looking characters smoking cigars. ‘It looks like I’m up against it,’ John remarked, sidling towards the front. ‘Keep your wits about you, Archie, and watch my back.’
He’d heard about ‘fixed’ auctions before, and something about the atmosphere here gave him the distinct feeling there was more going on than met the eye.
In the back office, the solicitor, Mr Leatherhead, had given his instructions and Bertram Tilbrook, the auctioneer, was even now preparing to start proceedings. There was a last-minute flurry of heated words between them, with the solicitor finishing in a low, harsh whisper: ‘Make sure you keep an eye on me.’ He gave him a warning glance. ‘I’ll be right there, in your line of vision.’
‘Don’t worry. I know the score!’ Glaring at him angrily, Tilbrook stormed past him and out through the door.
Unconcerned, Mr Leatherhead followed at a more leisurely pace.
Outside on the auction-room floor, people were beginning to grow restless. ‘I’ve had my eye on that land for some time now,’ one bearded lump of a man told his colleague. ‘Now it’s come up for sale, I don’t mean to let it go.’
His colleague laughed at that. ‘You’ll have me to contend with, Alan,’ he retorted. ‘You’re not the only one who can make good use of that lot. It’s mostly the buildings I’m after though, so whichever one of us gets it, we could do a deal with the other. What do you say?’<
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Broadly smiling, the other man shook hands on it. ‘Makes sense to me,’ he agreed. ‘You want the buildings for storage, and I want the land to farm. I’ve more than enough buildings of my own, so I don’t see why we couldn’t do a deal of sorts.’
Archie tugged at John’s coat-sleeve. ‘Did you hear that?’ he mouthed.
Disappointed, John nodded. ‘I heard.’
‘So, will we go, or will we stay?’ The little man had hoped the two of them would leave and spend an hour or two in the Sailor’s Rest, before returning to their lodgings.
‘We stay!’ Straightening his shoulders and looking ahead to the auctioneer, John told Archie, ‘For all we know, most of the folks here might just be dreamers like ourselves. Happen when it comes right down to it, they’ve got no more money in their pockets than I have.’
Archie thought on that, then he began panicking when the auctioneer banged the wooden gavel on the table. ‘Right, gentlemen!’ Tilbrook blew his nose and looked round the room, his glance momentarily resting on the solicitor. By now, the big man was at the back of the room, raised by the upward slope of the floor and in Tilbrook’s direct line of vision. Standing shoulder to shoulder with him was the equally large, and utterly respectable, form of Miss Harriet Witherington.
From where they stood, the two of them had a clear view of the proceedings, while the only way the bidders would get sight of them, was to make a deliberate turnabout.
‘We’re off!’ Archie could hardly contain himself. ‘What happens now?’ he kept asking. ‘Who’s bidding? Why aren’t you having a go?’ It was his first auction, and the excitement was unbearable.
In minutes the bids went higher than John could have foreseen. ‘Thirty-two guineas!’ The auctioneer was red in the face, his worried eyes shifting to the solicitor on every count. ‘Thirty-four … it’s you, sir.’ His eyes searched the crowd. ‘Yes? Do I have thirty-five?’
Lovers and Liars Page 17
