by Betty Annand
Just the touch of Tom’s hand on her arm as he helped her into the buggy excited her and made her more determined than ever to refuse any advances he might make, especially if he tried to kiss her.
As they left the inn, Gladys said, “What a lovely little horse you have, Tom. What is his name?”
“I’m not sure if it is his proper name or not, but Dad calls him Tig. He and the buggy belong to my father. Dad keeps a few horses and a buggy or two with an old friend—a blacksmith who has a barn and pasture on the outskirts of town. The only time I’m in need of a buggy is when I want to take a beautiful damsel for a ride,” he said with a smile and a cheeky wink.
Gladys blushed and answered, “I imagine you’ve taken quite a number of damsels for rides.”
“Ah, but none as pretty as the one I have with me today!”
“What a flatterer you are. Anyway, I think Tig is the most handsome horse I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, I must say, this is the first time that I’ve taken a young lady for a drive, and she compliments the horse instead of me.”
“I am sorry, but you see I haven’t decided if you are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. I know for certain that Tig is the handsomest horse.”
“Are you a good judge of horses, Gladys?”
“Good heavens, no. I’ve always lived in the city, so haven’t had the opportunity to own one, but I would love to learn to ride someday.”
Tom almost offered to give her lessons, but he remembered that a long-term relationship wasn’t in his plans.
Luckily, the sun was shining, and it was a perfect day for an outing. As they made their way through the city they passed a row of very elegantly styled homes that Gladys had never seen before. She especially liked one of them and mentioned it to Tom. When he said it belonged to his father, she looked up at him to see if he was joking, but he appeared to be serious.
“Oh, what a lovely home you have, Tom.”
“It’s not my home,” he replied rather sharply. “My stepmother and her two children, Peter and Mildred, live there.”
Gladys recalled Tom telling the attendant at the infirmary that his father would sign the papers to admit Mr O, so she said, “And your father too, I suppose.”
“Good heavens, no! Dad and Rose, that’s my stepmother, separated many years ago. He lives in a flat close to his office on the Government Quay.”
As soon as the words were out of Tom’s mouth, he regretted them. He was certain that, being a woman, she would want to know why they separated so she could go home with a bit of gossip. However, Gladys knew by the intonation of Tom’s voice when he mentioned his stepfamily that it upset him, and not knowing what to say, she remained silent.
Surprisingly, Tom explained the reason for the separation without being asked. “You see, after mother died, poor old Dad was so very lonely that when he met Rose, she had no trouble convincing him she could take Mother’s place. Before he had time to realize what a mistake he was making, they were married, and he had adopted her two children. I suppose Dad thought they would be company for me. I was ten, and at that time we lived on our estate in the country. Except for Joel, the six-year-old son of our head gardener, there were no other children close by.”
“It must have been nice to have a brother and a sister to play with.”
“No, it was anything but nice. You see, it didn’t take long after they moved in before Father and I realized what a selfish and conniving woman Rose was and how utterly pampered Peter and Mildred were. It was too late by then. At the beginning, I did my best to make friends with them, but they were such badly behaved children that I couldn’t help but dislike them, especially Peter.”
“How old were they?”
“I think Peter was eight and Mildred a year younger. Fortunately, Rose abhorred living in the country and made such a fuss over it that Dad, who was only too happy to be rid of her, moved her and her two little monsters into our town house, and we were left in peace.”
Gladys had no idea what an estate was, but said, “I would love to hear all about your estate, Tom. Is it far from here?” Tom said it was only about one mile from town and then told her about the green fields, and how he loved riding out to the river that ran through their property in the summer and swimming his horse across the deepest spots. As he talked about all the animals and the people who looked after them, Gladys was picturing it in her mind, and she thought an estate must just be another name for a farm. “Do you and your father still live there?”
“No, when I went away to military academy, Dad leased it out and wanted something to keep him busy, so he found a government job on the quay and moved into a flat nearby.” Gladys didn’t say anything, but she looked up at him and smiled so sweetly that he couldn’t help but remark, “You would like my father, Gladys. He’s a kind and generous man, who I admire very much.”
“I am sure I would. Perhaps you could bring him to the inn one night.”
“We shall see,” was the only thing Tom could think of to say. Things were not going at all as he had planned. He hadn’t intended to share his life history with Gladys, but once he started, he didn’t know where to stop. She seemed so interested in what he had to say that he felt flattered and had to remind himself of his reason for asking her to spend the day with him. On the other hand, she seemed like a nice girl, and he didn’t want her to think their relationship could ever be serious.
The tone of Tom’s voice when he said “We shall see,” bothered Gladys. She suspected that he didn’t plan on ever introducing her to his father. It was clear to her that she wasn’t the sort of girl he would want to take home. She consoled herself thinking that if he felt that way, he wasn’t the sort of man she would want to go home with.
Tom broke the silence. “I didn’t intend to spend the day talking about my life, Gladys. From now on, I shall concentrate on nothing but showing you a good time.”
“Actually, you needn’t worry; I am already having a wonderful time.”
Tom was puzzled, he had taken barmaids out before, but they were nothing like Gladys. He couldn’t stop thinking how innocent she appeared. It was obvious to him that she wasn’t highborn, but she certainly wasn’t ill-bred either. He had never met a woman he couldn’t classify before. He could tell she was enjoying the ride; almost as though she had never spent a day with a man before. Tom began to wonder if she wasn’t as promiscuous as he had thought, and if that kiss they shared might have been her first. It was all too perplexing to think about, so he heaved a sigh and decided to relax and enjoy the day.
They did a quick tour of the town then followed the trail along the Dour River where Tom named the different owners of four flour mills and two paper mills as they drove past. Around noon he stopped the buggy in front of another flour mill. “Have you ever been inside a mill, Gladys?” he asked.
Gladys had seen bags of flour, but had no idea where they came from, so she answered eagerly, “No, but I should like to.”
As he helped her from the buggy, a man near the same age as Tom came out of the mill and called out, “Hi there, Tom, I heard you were back in town. Who have you got there?”
“Hello, Will, this is Miss Gladys, ah . . . you know, Gladys, I don’t even know your surname.”
“Tweedhope,” Gladys offered.
“Well, Gladys Tweedhope, this is Will Manson, an old school chum of mine and owner of this thriving business and two more like it.”
Will reached out his hand and, with a welcoming smile, said, “You’ve picked a winner this time, Tom. If I wasn’t married to such a treasure myself, I might try to impress her with my all my wealth. You must be hungry, my dear. Come, you’re just in time to sample my flour in a loaf of my dear wife’s freshly baked bread. I think you’ll find it goes down very well with some of our local cheddar and a cup of tea.”
Will was short and stocky with a barrel-shaped chest and
muscular arms. He had a round, pleasant looking face, and near white hair that proved to be blonde after he brushed away the flour. Instead of going into the mill, he led them into a little, thatched-roof house that sat prettily beside the river nearby. His wife Enid, unlike Will, was tall and slender with rather aristocratic features. Her pregnancy was so obvious that Gladys wasn’t surprised when she said the baby was due in a month’s time.
In spite of her bulk, she moved about graciously as she sat them down at a table by a window with a splendid view of the river and began making the tea. When Gladys admired the pretty embroidered tablecloth, Enid shared that she’d made it from a flour sack. “Would you like me to make you one, Gladys?”
Tom looked a little flustered as he tried to figure out how to explain that, more than likely, Gladys and Enid would never meet again. Gladys was enjoying his discomfort and allowed him to stew for a minute before she replied.
“Thank you, Enid, I would love to have such a beautiful cloth, and if you do have a chance to make one for me, I shall treasure it and keep it until I have a home of my own.” She then related her plans to become a governess.
After they finished a delicious lunch of tea, bread, cheese, and jam, Will offered to show Gladys through the mill. “Have we time, Tom?” she asked.
“As long as we start back home shortly,” he answered.
To his surprise, he enjoyed the tour as much as Gladys. He had never bothered to go into one of his friend’s mills before, thinking there would be little of interest to see, but he was surprised at the complexity of the modern machinery Will had installed, and Gladys asked such intelligent questions that he found he was as anxious as she to hear the answers. Will was in his glory and was beaming with pride. His mill was the first one on the river that had been converted to steam power, and he couldn’t resist the chance to do a little boasting now that he had such an attentive audience.
As they were returning to town, Tom said, “I don’t know if I should allow you to meet any more of my friends.” Gladys looked so puzzled that he started to laugh and added, “I think old Willie was quite smitten, and he has a jewel for a wife.”
Relieved, she smiled rather smugly and replied, “Oh, that’s nonsense; Will is happily married. But thank you so much for taking me there. I had no idea how flour was made, and now every time I eat bread, I shall appreciate it that much more.”
The tour of the mill had taken longer than Tom had planned, so by the time they arrived back in town the sun had set, and they were both very hungry. The restaurant he chose was called “The Whale’s Tail” and was in one of the buildings along the Custom House Quay on the waterfront. There was only one empty table when they entered, but it was the best table in the place and had a clear view of the ships that were anchored in the harbour.
Gladys thought it odd that no one was sitting there, so she mentioned it to Tom, who explained that the table was reserved for his father’s use, because he was in the habit of taking all his meals there.
Although the window gave them a romantic view of the moon shining on the water, the décor of the place was so unadorned, and rather shabby, and the other customers such a motley group, judging by their attire, that Gladys felt depressed. She couldn’t help but wonder why Tom would bring her to such a place. He must have sensed her displeasure. “Please don’t judge the place by its appearance, Gladys. The service and food here are the best in Dover.”
He was right. She had never eaten such a delicious meal, and Tom seemed to take great delight in watching her as she ate. She was so unlike the other women he was acquainted with, who sat stiff-backed and picked at their food as though it was poison. Whatever was brought to the table, Gladys ate as much of as Tom. She told the waiter how much she enjoyed it, and he in turn, told the cook who was so pleased, he came out from the kitchen to see “the beautiful lady who eats like a man.”
After they left the restaurant, it was such a lovely evening that Gladys asked if they could take a short stroll along the quay before getting back into the buggy. Tom agreed, but before they began their walk, Gladys went up to Tig and fed him a lump of sugar she had taken from the café, then taking his muzzle in her hands, she kissed him on the nose and said, “We won’t be long, Tig, and if you are a good boy, I shall have another treat for you when we return.”
The kind gesture touched Tom more than he wanted it to. He knew what he wanted from Gladys and was determined not to allow his sentiments get in the way, but she kept doing little things that he couldn’t help but admire. Although the boards they were walking on were worn smooth, some were worn down a bit more than others and Tom put his arm around Gladys’s waist to prevent her from tripping.
She had vowed to protest if he made any advances, but the feel of his arm around her waist was so comforting that she convinced herself it meant nothing more to him than an innocent act of chivalry. As they came to an old man sitting on the dock leaning against a post with a bottle in one hand and a fishing rod in the other, Tom stopped and said, “Rather late to be fishing isn’t it, Pike?”
“What time be it, Tommy lad?” the man answered with a slight slur to his words.
“It’s long past time you were going home. Addie will be waiting at the door with her rolling pin, if you don’t hurry.”
“Aw, she likes to let on she’s the boss, but she ain’t got a mean bone in ’er body, she ain’t.” He finished the liquid in his bottle, held it upside down and added, “Yep, I guess since there ain’t no fish an’ no more grog, it’s time I went ’ome. Give us a ’and up, Tommy lad.” Tom took the man’s hand and pulled him to his feet, but when he let go Pike teetered on the edge of the wharf and would have fallen in if Tom hadn’t grabbed him, leading him across to the other side before aiming him in the right direction.
“He would have fallen in if you hadn’t been here,” Gladys exclaimed.
“It wouldn’t have been the first time if he had, but he always sobers up when he hits the water and manages to splash around until he makes it to a ladder, or keeps shouting until someone hears him and pulls him out with a pike pole. That’s how he earned the name ‘Pike.’”
Gladys was very impressed with the kindness and respect Tom showed the drunk and was happy when he put his arm around her again as they continued their walk.
The creaking of boats tied up to the wharf and the soothing slaps of the waves against the pier added romance to the setting. Gladys felt so content that even if Tom never took her out again, she planned to remember the night as the most romantic of her life. As they were passing a huge five-story building with large windows and two twelve-foot, hand-carved, doors, Tom said, “This is the Custom House. See that big window on the second floor? That’s my father’s office.”
“What an interesting place to work. Oh, look, Tom, someone’s waving, is it him?”
Tom nodded, offered a feeble wave in response, and said, “We must be getting back to the buggy.” On seeing his father’s face in the window, a feeling of guilt had overtaken him. It was as though his father could tell by one glance how dishonourable his intentions were.
It was dark by the time they arrived back at the Inn, and Gladys was more disappointed than relieved when Tom delivered her to her door without so much as asking for a kiss. Every time she looked at his lips, she could feel them on hers, but she knew it was best this way, so she smiled warmly at him and said, “Thank you, Tom, for a lovely day. I had a wonderful time. Please give my best to Keith, and tell him he missed a magnificent dinner.”
Tom merely nodded his reply and left abruptly. Gladys was both hurt and puzzled, wondering what she did wrong.
__________
When Tom arrived back at the barracks, Keith was lying on his cot waiting for him. “Accomplish what you set out to do, did you?” he said, more in the tone of an accusation than a question.
“You needn’t have worried, ‘Mother,’ I was a perfect gentleman,�
�� Tom answered jokingly.
“Enjoy the day, did she?”
Unable to resist, Tom explained how much fun she was to be with and what a good time he had. “And you should have seen old Will—she practically had him licking her boots. I think Gladys knows enough about his business now to run it herself. And, my God, Keith, you should see how that girl can eat! Old Cookie, at the Whale’s Tail, is now another of her fans. I have to say, she certainly leaves a good impression wherever she goes.”
“She’s left quite an impression on you, by the sounds of it.”
“Yes, I guess she did. You know, Keith, I am not so sure I was right about her. She seems so naïve—perhaps that kiss was her first, and she didn’t know how to reciprocate. Do you think that’s possible?”
“I just met her that once, but I’m certain she’s no whore. I was quite smitten with her myself. Just what are your intentions toward her, Tom?”
Tom knew he wanted to see her again, and he longed to make love to her, but he couldn’t honestly say his plans were entirely honourable, so he answered honestly, “I really can’t say right now.”
“Do you intend to marry her?”
“Court her, perhaps; marry her, no.”
“I say, that’s not cricket, old boy. To continue courting her just so you can have your way with her is not what a gentleman does.”
“Oh, come on, Keith, the girl is just a barmaid! I shan’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do; you have my word.”
“Well, you know how I feel. I think she deserves to be treated like a lady, and I don’t care what her background is. And if that’s how you feel about her, you shouldn’t mind if I ask her out as well, right?”
Surprisingly, the thought of Gladys seeing another man bothered Tom, but he was determined to prove that she meant nothing more to him than any other person, so he replied, “It matters little to me.”
