by Anna Jacobs
She didn’t even know where Mattie was now.
She wanted to see Nell and hug her close. Oh, how much she wanted to be with her at this sad time!
A little later, she stopped writing to stare into space as it occurred to her that if Nell had the insurance money and Renie had her savings, perhaps they could open a little shop or run a boarding house, or make some sort of new life together.
She stared round. She no longer enjoyed working at the Rathleigh. She was on edge every minute because of the way Judson stared at her and sometimes crept up behind her.
It was then that she remembered Gilbert Rycroft. He’d said he would help her and somehow she knew he’d meant it. He might limp and have trouble with his arm, but he was very good-looking and had such a warm smile. She didn’t know when she’d taken to someone so quickly.
Oh, she was terrible. How could she daydream about a man when her sister was facing a tragedy?
Once she heard from Nell again, she’d suggest them setting up home together, then she’d ask Gilbert Rycroft for advice. A gentleman was bound to know more about starting a business than they did.
The thought of being with her sister again was the only comfort during a very sad time.
Chapter Ten
Over the next few days the newspapers continued to publish the latest information and it was even worse than anyone had expected. Renie was shocked to learn that about fifteen hundred people had died, an unthinkable number, and only seven hundred or so had been rescued.
She kept her eyes open and at last found a crumpled newspaper, left by a guest, which gave a list of passengers who had survived, stopping with a gasp at the name: Elizabeth Rycroft, aged 6 years. That poor little child! What must she have gone through?
She continued down the list, but no other Rycrofts were mentioned. Her heart sank. Surely the rest of the young family hadn’t been lost?
Next she scanned the names of those definitely killed and found the surname she was looking for at once: Robert Rycroft, 36, of London; Harriet Rycroft, 29, wife of Robert; Jennifer Rycroft, 3, daughter of Robert and Harriet.
Oh, that poor family! How must they be feeling? She knew how bad she’d felt when she heard about Nell’s tragedy and little Sarah’s death. Agonised was the first word that sprang to mind. And another word she’d read in books: bereft. She’d had to look it up in a dictionary to find what it meant and wasn’t even sure how to pronounce it.
She bent her head to say a prayer for all the people who’d lost loved ones in the disaster, and made a special mention of the Rycrofts. It was all she could think to do. She didn’t know anything about the family, except that Gil Rycroft was a kind young man, but they must be devastated by losing three members of the family at once. Anyone would.
This reminded her of how she’d lost touch with her sister Mattie. That still upset her, but it wasn’t likely that Mattie was dead. Her sister had always been very healthy. Renie had that comfort at least. She still had hope.
One day, surely, they’d all three be reunited.
Renie started work in the office the very next week. She felt excited at the thought of learning new skills, but that excitement quickly faded, because they sat her in a corner and gave her simple tasks to do, checking lists of supplies, fetching office supplies for the male clerks or making tea.
The latter job made the office boy smirk at her and complain about the cup of tea she’d given him.
She guessed this was really his job and wasn’t going to be bullied by a mere lad, so leant forward and said in a low voice, ‘Any more cheek from you, young man, and I’ll trip up and spill hot tea all over you accidentally. Don’t think I won’t do it, either. And my name is Miss Fuller to you, spoken politely. Is that clear?’
Their eyes met and he tried to outstare her, but didn’t succeed. She only had to summon up the anger she was feeling about her treatment here and she could outstare King George himself.
She found the week’s work so dull and slow she began to wonder if it was worth it and felt very downhearted. She was learning nothing and no one in the office spoke to her unless they had to.
On Friday afternoon, even though he was sitting nearby, the assistant bookkeeper sent the office boy across the room to tell Renie that Mrs Tolson wished to see her.
The housekeeper greeted her with a smile. ‘Do sit down, Irene. How is it going? What have you learnt this week?’
Then the tears came and she couldn’t help sobbing. She’d had such high hopes of this new job, but the men weren’t going to let her work with them as an equal, they’d shown that very clearly.
Mrs Tolson waited until she’d finished weeping and said in a bracing tone, ‘Let that be the only time you weep over those fools.’
Renie stared at her in shock. This was the last thing she’d expected to hear. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The ones in that office are assistant clerks. It’s where they train the new office boys. The older men won’t rise any higher, and they know it, so they’re jealous of anyone who seems to be looked on favourably by Mr Greaves or the owners. It must gall them when that person is a woman.’
‘Oh.’
‘Bear with it for another week. If I intervene too soon, they can say they were just letting you settle in. But what I would ask you to do is keep a list of all the tasks you perform, a complete list of every single task. Bring it to me on Thursday after work. Armed with that, I shall consult Mr Greaves.’
‘Oh.’
‘It never does to react in anger. You are far less likely to make your point. Learn patience, Irene. Learn endurance. You’re going to need both many times during the coming years. When women do something different, there are always obstacles deliberately thrown in their way.’
Renie mopped her eyes and was pleased to find she’d completely lost the desire to weep.
‘Now, you have one morning still to work this week, then you can enjoy your weekend. Are you and Daff going anywhere?’
‘Just to the markets. I like to pick up bargains there.’
‘So do I, when I can find the time. I buy things for my cousin sometimes. Her husband is very stingy with her.’
‘So was my sister’s husband.’
‘That’s why I have never married.’
Was that the choice you had to make? Renie wondered. You either married and put up with unfair treatment in order to have a husband and family, or you didn’t marry at all. Surely not all men were mean? But the two marriages she’d experienced at close hand, her mother’s and her sister’s, had been extremely unhappy.
She wasn’t going to put up with that sort of life, even for the sake of having children. But she didn’t want to live her life alone. Perhaps if she could find Mattie, they could live together. Mattie was past the age of marrying.
Seeing her eldest sister again was something to hope for.
Gil’s father made it through the night, and in the morning his mother joined Gil for breakfast as they waited for the doctor’s visit.
‘You will have to go to New York to fetch Elizabeth back, Gil.’
He looked at her in shock. ‘Me? But I thought you wanted me here to help with Father.’
‘That child’s need is greater than mine, I realised that during the night. Who else is there to fetch her but you? Jonathon’s wife is expecting her first child any day now, so your brother can’t go. Harriet’s closest family are in South Africa. And besides, Elizabeth is our only grandchild, while Harriet’s parents have several others, so I feel we should be the ones to look after her from now on.’
‘But I don’t know anything about little girls.’
‘Of course you don’t. You’ll naturally take a nursemaid with you.’
He still didn’t like the idea, but his mother’s voice had cracked on the last few words and he could see how close she was to breaking down. She’d been very brave; he could be no less brave. He took a deep breath. ‘Very well. I’ll do that.’
‘Thank you. I’ll make sure you ha
ve plenty of money to cover your expenses. No, I insist! You need your own money for your house now.’
After he left her, he went to look for Walter. ‘We have to go to New York to fetch my niece Elizabeth. And as soon as possible.’
Walter looked at him in dismay, then shook his head. ‘I don’t think I can, lad.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve been tiring quickly lately, so I went to see a fancy London doctor. He says it’s my heart. Well, at my age, you expect something to start going wrong, don’t you? He advises me to lead a quiet life.’
Gil looked at him in dismay. ‘You should have said something sooner. We’d have made things easier for you.’
‘I said it when it had to be faced. I wanted to continue without people fussing over me for as long as I could.’ He paused to think. ‘Why don’t you take Horry with you to New York? He’s an intelligent young fellow.’
‘I need a woman, too, to look after Elizabeth.’
‘Take Lizzie. She’s from a large family, so she’ll know how to look after a little girl. You won’t want a starchy nurse telling her not to cry. I’ve seen them when folk visited at your parents’, telling children not to cry when they fell off a horse, stopping them feeling things.’
He sighed. ‘Us poorer folk live more normal lives, I reckon. We don’t have to keep those stiff upper lips. That little girl has a right to cry as much as she needs. She’s lost everyone, must be feeling desperate. I hope someone is looking after her over in New York, treating her kindly.’
‘You’re right. Lizzie and Horry it is, then.’
Walter clapped his shoulder. ‘Good lad. I’m proud of you.’
Things happened so quickly after that, Gil didn’t feel he stopped to take a breath until he and his two helpers got on the ship. They were lucky that one was due to leave in two days’ time. Walter helped Horry obtain more clothes and Mrs Rycroft’s London housekeeper took charge of Lizzie’s clothing needs.
If truth be told, Lizzie’s joy in her new clothes cheered Gil up. His father was making only slow progress and would probably be unable to walk or speak properly again. He knew how that felt. He was full of admiration for his mother. After the first shock, Louisa Rycroft had become calmly supportive, spending a lot of time with her husband. It was to her that his father’s eyes always turned, and she seemed to guess what he needed when he couldn’t fit words together.
Even the thought of her little granddaughter didn’t seem important to his mother now that she’d handed that task over to her son. She was concentrating only on her husband’s recovery and welfare. Their love had never been demonstrated in public, but it showed clearly now.
He wished he could find someone to love. It must be … nice not to be alone.
He didn’t have a passport, nor did his two helpers, but the shipping agent assured him that it wasn’t obligatory, though there was talk of it becoming obligatory in a year or two if you wanted to re-enter the United Kingdom.
‘You’re only visiting New York and because of the … ahem … tragedy, I’m sure they won’t fuss about such details at either end.’
The voyage passed peacefully, with only one day of blustery weather. Some of the passengers were seasick, but Gil found he was a good sailor, as were Horry and Lizzie.
There were people on the ship on the same errand as Gil, some of them going only to identify loved ones’ bodies and bury them, so there wasn’t the usual round of dining and entertainment.
During the daytime Gil avoided the other passengers as much as he could without being impolite, and spent a lot of time standing by the rail, staring into the distance. His thoughts often turned to his eldest brother. Robert had been ten years older than Gil, so they had never been close. He had looked up to Robert, though. His brother was a popular fellow, who had enjoyed life, found everything easy. He’d been in the school teams for every sport he took up, then had gone to university for a time.
But as he had little taste for studying, he left after a year and came home to learn to manage the family estate, which, as eldest son, he would inherit one day. The trouble was he’d clashed with his father and the estate manager about what should be done, so when he’d met and married Harriet, he’d gone to live in the house she’d inherited from her grandmother.
Now, Robert would never come home to Merriton House, and he’d not left a son to carry on the family name.
Gil supposed the estate would go to Jonathon, the middle brother.
Gil had no desire to inherit Merriton, which was quite a large house and needed rather a lot of renovations. He’d heard his father complaining about that. He enjoyed his quiet life in Wiltshire, with a house that was smaller and somehow friendlier. He was starting to get on better with people in the village, though Chapman was still a thorn in his flesh.
It was good, Gil found, to have this time to come to terms with his sad errand, and most of the other passengers left him in peace.
From time to time, he saw Horry and Lizzie out on the lower deck. They seemed always to be talking and smiling, either together or with other younger people. He envied them that ease.
And then suddenly they were in New York, and he had to take charge of the situation once more.
Elizabeth, he found, had been placed in a boarding school for little girls, which had volunteered to take her.
As soon as they’d settled into the hotel, he took Lizzie with him and they went to find his niece. Horry said he’d go out and look at American motor cars, if no one needed him.
On her second Friday working in the office, Renie was again asked to report to Mrs Tolson. This time she found Mr Greaves sitting with the housekeeper, and they had her notes about what she’d been doing in front of them.
Mr Greaves shared in the questioning about her first two weeks, and after she’d finished, he gave her one of his twinkling smiles. ‘Be prepared to work much harder next week, young Irene.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She wondered what he and Mrs Tolson were planning, but they gave her no hint, only dismissed her and told her to enjoy her weekend.
She found it rather lonely. Daff was on weekend duty, no one else wanted to go out with her, so Renie was left to her own devices. She didn’t go to the markets because she didn’t need anything and the weather was showery, so she could only nip out during fine spells to walk round Yew Tree Gardens and admire the flowers, then stay in the staff sitting room and read.
A young man tried to get into conversation with her on one of her outings, but she’d had enough of men this week and gave him short shrift.
She stopped to watch two children playing, which reminded her of her poor little niece, who hadn’t had anywhere like these gardens to take the air and enjoy herself.
She also thought about Gil Rycroft and wondered what he was doing, how he and his family were coping with their loss.
Then it began to rain again, so she went back inside to read her book.
She hoped Mr Greaves would be able to do something about her job. She didn’t mind working hard, but she hated to be bored now that she’d experienced a more interesting sort of work.
On the Monday, Mr Greaves walked into the big office mid morning. He moved slowly round the room, looking at what each person was doing.
The assistant bookkeeper, who was in charge of organising Renie’s work, hesitated, then called across to her, ‘Miss Fuller, will you kindly go and—’
Mr Greaves said quietly, ‘Not now, Wetherfield. I wish to see what everyone is doing.’ He said nothing, but as he moved, the tension in the room rose and even the pens seemed to be scratching more quietly across the pages as if they too were holding their breaths.
He moved to Renie’s desk last of all. ‘What are you doing today, Miss Fuller?’
‘Copying these lists, Mr Greaves.’
He stood very still, not saying a word, but frowning.
Just when she thought she’d burst with keeping quiet, Mr Greaves said, ‘Copying? That is a job for the office boy, no
t for the housekeeper’s assistant. Who set you this task?’
She stared down at her page, hating to be the one to land someone in trouble, however much they deserved it.
‘Wetherfield?’
The head clerk got up and hurried across.
‘We are training Miss Fuller to help our lady customers, not to assist the office boy.’
‘Sorry, sir. I must have, um, mistaken the reason for her being here.’
‘No, Wetherfield. You did not. I explained the reasons to you myself.’ He looked round the room and raised his voice. ‘And in case any of you think Miss Fuller came running to complain to me, I can assure you she didn’t. Other people have eyes in their heads and do not approve of wasting staff’s time – time for which their employers are paying. I move all round the hotel. I do not just sit in my office all day.’
He let his words sink in, then added sharply, ‘We will continue this discussion in my office.’ He turned to the office boy. ‘You need not accompany us, Fitch.’ He gestured to Renie to come with them.
Flushing with embarrassment she stood up, waiting for the men to lead the way out, since they were senior to her.
Mr Greaves held back, so the rest of them did too. ‘After you, Miss Fuller. We do still practise good manners here, I hope.’
They stood in a semicircle in front of his desk. The session was gently conducted, but by the end of it, the men had been guided into putting together a plan for training Renie properly.
Mr Greaves ended by saying, ‘I will just say this: Chef didn’t approve of what we’re doing, but by the end of Miss Fuller’s time with him, he did admit that she was intelligent and picked things up quickly. And even he could see that it will be useful to have a woman who understands the working of our hotel available to deal with our lady customers, as well as to help Mrs Tolson in any way that is needed. It is our customers’ welfare we should be thinking of here, not our own, or even Miss Fuller’s. We are all here to make our customers’ stay at the Rathleigh as pleasant as possible.’
