by Deborah Carr
She wasn’t used to her mother being so open with her feelings and the thought depressed Florence. If her mother had taken such a dislike against Jesse, maybe there was something wrong in her allowing their friendship to deepen. She clasped her hands together, trying to work through what she could have missed in his character for that to be true. No, she was certain her mother was mistaken.
‘If you knew him better, Mother,’ she said quietly, ‘you’d see he really is a thoroughly decent man.’
Her mother didn’t speak as she continued peeling the potatoes, dropping the final one into the pan of water on the table next to her. She tipped the scraps into a bucket to the side of her and placed a lid on the top of it.
‘That will be full soon so you can send for Mr Colesby to collect the scraps for his pigs.’
‘Yes, Mother,’ she said, wondering if now was her chance to put her side of the argument to her mother. She stumbled over her words, trying to find the right way to broach the subject of Jesse and her friendship, as her mother dried her hands on a towel.
‘Whatever is it, my girl?’ her mother eventually said, sighing heavily. ‘I know you aren’t happy with my thoughts about Mr Boot and are desperate to speak to me about it. So, go on, tell me why I’m wrong to think of him as I do.’
Stunned by her mother’s words, Florence stepped back. She was never allowed to argue with her. She and her siblings had always been expected to accept what their parents said as law and, for the most part, had done so. This matter was too important to her to be able to simply accept what her mother had said, but getting her point across was another matter entirely.
‘Come along, Florence,’ her mother snapped. ‘You’re never usually lost for words.’
‘I … well, I’m trying to think of the best way to say what I think,’ she replied honestly. ‘I’m not usually asked for my opinion when you’ve made up your mind so firmly about something.’ Florence straightened the cuffs on her sleeves as she thought about what she wanted to say.
‘Stop fiddling with your clothing and say whatever it is you need to,’ her mother said, her voice weary. They rarely disagreed and Florence could see that she was finding this difference of opinion as upsetting as she was.
Florence took a deep breath. ‘I feel certain that if you maybe knew Mr Boot better than you do now, then you might see him in a more favourable light. That’s all.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes, Mother. I do. He’s a good, kind man. He cares about those who work for him and his family.’ She finally decided to say what was bothering her most. ‘I simply don’t understand why you don’t like him.’
She heard the catch of emotion in her own voice and found that she was on the verge of tears. It wasn’t like her at all. Then again, feeling this deeply about a man wasn’t at all like her either.
Her mother reached out and placed a hand on Florence’s right forearm. ‘Dearest Florence. You are a loyal and hard-working daughter. My feelings are nothing to do with Mr Boot’s character, or against him personally. Although, it is true that I don’t know him very well. But can’t you see that he already has health issues? These will only increase, and I would hate for a daughter of mine to spend her married life caring for an invalid.’
‘Mother, he isn’t that.’
‘I want a strong, fine, husband for you: someone who will look after you – not a man who needs you to care for him. Don’t you see that?’
She stared into her mother’s eyes, unable to miss the fear emanating from them. She tried to see Jesse from her mother’s point of view. ‘I suppose I can see what you’re trying to say,’ she admitted, ‘but there are more ways that someone can be strong. It doesn’t have to be in the physical body alone, surely?’
‘Florence!’
Her face reddened. ‘I only meant that Mr Boot has so much more about him than the fact that he sometimes struggles physically. He is entertaining and we think along the same lines in business, too.’
‘Business,’ her mother sneered. ‘Honestly, my girl, you have always been too ambitious for a woman, but that really is too much.’
‘He doesn’t think so,’ she said, knowing as soon as the words were out of her mouth that it was the wrong thing to say.
‘Oh, doesn’t he?’ Her mother glared at her. ‘That’s enough now. You go to your room and freshen up for supper before we both say something we regret.’ She stared at Florence silently for a moment as if she was trying to find the person she knew behind the woman Florence had become. ‘I want no more argument about this man, otherwise I’ll insist your father revoke his permission for you to go out with him again tomorrow.’ She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. ‘This situation worries me greatly, Florence. It’s upsetting and I do not wish to discuss it a moment longer.’
Florence, aware that they had broached territory neither had touched on before, turned and left the room.
‘You’re a changed woman since that man came to this house,’ her mother called after her.
Florence didn’t reply. She wasn’t able to. The exchange with her mother had upset her deeply. She wasn’t sure if it was the cross words or discovering how deeply her mother worried about her becoming close to Jesse that made her the most distraught. She stopped in the hallway, placing her hand on her chest, trying ineffectually to calm herself.
Did her mother have a point though? she wondered. Jesse’s health was only going to worsen as he grew older. Did she have it in her to be someone’s nurse, especially if that someone was her husband? It wasn’t something she had ever considered before now. She could hear her mother grumbling to herself in the kitchen. Florence realised that she probably shouldn’t feel too surprised by her mother’s reaction. Hadn’t she always told her mother that she would never marry? That she was determined to retain her independence?
Florence rested a hand on her bedroom doorknob. Could she in all honesty become the wife that Jesse would not only want, but also need? She didn’t know why not. If she loved him then surely she would be able to forget all her previous notions about her future.
Florence heard her father’s footsteps coming up the stairs, stepped into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. She sat down on the edge of her bed and replayed the exchange with her mother. Why couldn’t she give Jesse a chance? Why was her mother so determined not to trust her strengths to be able to adapt?
Muffled voices emanated from the kitchen moments later. Her father and mother’s harsh tones were unmistakable. Florence tried her best to hear what they were saying, but only heard her father mention Jesse several times.
She tried to remain calm. Her parents rarely argued. In fact, she could only recall hearing them doing so on two occasions, and that had been when she was very much younger. She hated to think that she was the cause behind their annoyance with each other. Her parents, though very different, had a happy marriage. She would have to go and say something, she decided, trying to think what exactly.
Someone knocked on her door, giving her a shock. Before she had time to ask who it was, or answer it, Amy opened the door and stepped inside, closing it immediately behind her.
‘What have you done?’ she asked gently. ‘I heard Father mentioning your name and Mother snapping back at him. It was something about Mr Boot. I didn’t wait to hear more. I don’t want to become embroiled in whatever it is that’s going on.’ She sat on Florence’s bed next to her. ‘Are you all right? Nothing untoward has happened, has it?’
Florence shook her head. ‘Jesse asked Father if I could go out again with him tomorrow.’
‘Again?’ Amy shook her head. ‘But you were only with him this afternoon, weren’t you?’
Florence nodded. ‘I was. But he’s only here for such a short time,’ she said, trying to explain why she should see him so frequently. ‘And he needs a friend to show him the sights on the island.’
Amy raised an eyebrow. ‘And that has to be you each time, does it?’
‘Why?’ she asked, irri
tated. ‘Would you rather be the one to accompany him?’
Amy thought for a moment. Florence watched her, willing her not to give the wrong answer and wishing she hadn’t asked such a leading question.
‘He is a very nice man,’ Amy said thoughtfully. ‘I wouldn’t mind at all.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘I’m only teasing. I know it’s you he favours and—’ she studied Florence’s face for a moment ‘—if I’m not very much mistaken, you rather like him, too. Don’t you?’
Florence didn’t reply. She wasn’t going to commit to anything without knowing exactly how much Jesse liked her, or what, if any, his intentions were towards her.
Amy sighed. ‘I know I’m right.’ She glanced at the bedroom door as the voices outside rose slightly in volume. ‘Are they quarrelling about you seeing Mr Boot too much, or is it that Mother frets about you becoming too close to him? Is that the trouble?’
Florence stared at the floor. She felt utterly miserable. ‘I hate to hear them angry with each other. They never have cross words.’
‘No,’ Amy said, grinning and nudging her gently, ‘Mother gives her opinion and Father overrides it.’
‘Not always,’ Florence said, feeling slightly better that at least her sister wasn’t angry enough with her not to want to try and cheer her up a little. ‘And I thought that he usually did what Mother wanted. He simply likes us to believe it was his idea.’ Was she right, or Amy? she wondered.
Amy lay back against the wall. ‘Like you I have no idea, though I do wish they wouldn’t argue.’
Supper was a silent affair. The food was mostly cold because her mother had called their father back into the kitchen for more angry words. Eventually, after an awkward, troubled evening, Florence and Amy washed the dishes and went to their respective bedrooms.
Florence lay awake for several hours hoping that her mother wouldn’t persuade her father to change his mind and stop her from going out with Jesse.
She thought of her older sister, Adelaide who had surprised them all by marrying a shipwright called Francis a few years earlier. It occurred to Florence that maybe her mother’s shock at her oldest daughter marrying a man thirty years older than her hadn’t helped her own cause when she wanted to spend time with Jesse. She pushed the notion aside. Her sister seemed happy enough with Frances, so surely her mother should not worry on that account. Maybe it was the issue of wanting grandchildren, Florence mused, or the concern of ending up with a second son-in-law who was a similar age to her.
Florence had no idea, neither did she know how long Jesse would be able to remain on the island. He was a busy man and a conscientious one and staying away from his business was not something he was able to do for any stretch of time. She knew that she had been lucky that he had chosen to return so soon after his first visit, but it seemed that their luck was running out.
Chapter 12
The following morning when Florence woke, it took her a moment to recall that she was once again going out with Jesse. Unless, that was, her mother had managed to persuade her father otherwise.
She decided to be positive, so washed and dressed herself as if she had every intention of going on an outing. Florence wanted to do something a little different with Jesse and decided that, if he was willing, they would join a group of other people and go on a horse-drawn charabanc ride to the north coast. She wasn’t sure if the roads would be too treacherous to Bouley Bay, but would enquire at Weighbridge and see what was available.
She made her bed and opened her curtains. Walking to the living room she was greeted by her parents, sitting with Amy, having their breakfast of poached egg and rashers of bacon.
‘I’ve left yours in the kitchen,’ her mother said without her usual smile. ‘I only made it a few moments ago when I heard you moving about in your bedroom, so it will still be warm.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, going to the kitchen to collect her food. She was feeling a little out of sorts after the previous evening’s events, but if her mother was choosing to act as if little had happened then she had no wish to upset her further by referring to it in any way.
She sat down and ate, grateful when Amy began speaking about one of the customers from the previous day who had bought ten books.
‘She said she simply couldn’t choose which ones to leave behind.’ Amy laughed. ‘It was so funny. Although the poor maid who was with her wasn’t all that amused.’
‘Did you not think to offer to deliver the books?’ their father asked, horrified by Amy’s story.
‘Yes, naturally. I think she was being a little mean to the poor girl. I had the feeling that there had been some argument between them and the lady was seeking her revenge by insisting she took all ten books immediately.’
‘That’s mean,’ their mother said.
‘It is,’ Florence agreed, picturing the maid trying to carry so many books for any distance. ‘Poor girl and I should imagine there would have been purchases from other shops for her to carry, too.’
‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised. I thought the same as both of you,’ Amy said, before putting a mouthful of egg and bacon in her mouth.
They continued their breakfast with little conversation. Florence was determined not to say anything that might give her mother cause to continue their disagreement from the previous evening. She wasn’t hungry and would rather have asked to leave the table but knew that would only antagonise her parents. Her mother had taken the time to cook her breakfast and she would be polite enough to eat it, however difficult it was to swallow.
Finally, her mother placed her knife and fork down on her plate. As always, she was the last one to finish and Florence wondered sometimes if it was something her mother made a point of doing. She wasn’t sure, but either way all she was hoping for was that her parents let her go out with Jesse today and not tell her that her father had changed his mind. She would not have put it past him to be persuaded by her mother to do such a thing. He was perfectly capable of sending a messenger to let Jesse know that their plans had changed, and Florence was needed in the shop after all.
She dabbed her mouth with her napkin before refolding it and rolling it up to push it through the napkin ring with her initials on it.
‘Once you’ve washed your hands, I would like you to go down to the shop with Amy for an hour to help set up for today’s customers,’ her father said, just as her mother stood and began taking plates to the kitchen.
Amy glanced at her, took hers and Florence’s plates and followed their mother.
Was this the point that her father would tell her he had changed his mind? She hoped not.
‘Yes, Father,’ she said, remaining calm as best she could. ‘I’ll go down with you now, if you wish.’
Moments later she was checking orders and placing them together so that Amy wouldn’t have to during the day. Her sister would need to be very organised if she was to be working alone for some of the day while their parents were out, she mused, feeling guilty for taking more time away from the shop and leaving her sister to cover for her.
‘I’ll look for a trinket to buy her today,’ she mumbled to herself as she worked.
‘What was that?’ her father asked, making her jump.
‘I was feeling badly towards Amy,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve taken so much time away from the shop recently.’ She knew she was tempting fate and that her honesty might cause him to change his mind about her going out, if he hadn’t already done so.
He smiled at her. ‘You’re a good and hard-working girl, Florence,’ he said. ‘Amy will have her time.’
She wasn’t sure if he meant that she would have time off work or if she would have her own turn at going out with a gentleman.
Unable to bear not knowing any longer, Florence put down the two books in her hand and looked at her father. ‘I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble.’
He shrugged. ‘Don’t fret. Although I do understand your mother’s concerns, I personally believe that Mr Boot is a decent fellow and I am happy f
or you to make his acquaintance.’ He took a moment to think something through, before adding, ‘You have not wished to spend time with anyone as much as you have this man. I trust your judgement and I am happy for you to see him while he is on the island.’
It was a relief to hear him speak in this way. Florence smiled and gave him a hug. ‘Thank you, Father,’ she said, relieved to know that her plans with Jesse had not changed. ‘He is a good man and I know that Mother only has my best interests at heart.’ She didn’t want to add that she disagreed with her mother’s concerns about Jesse’s health, fearing that to do so would only antagonise her father and be disrespectful to her mother. But after a moment’s hesitation, she heard herself say, ‘I understand that Mother is being protective of me and doesn’t want his health issues to impact on my future life. Surely, though, this should be my decision. I’m twenty-three and haven’t I proved that I have strength of character and know my own mind?’
‘You have both those attributes, Florence,’ he said. ‘However, you have never been married and don’t have the experience in life to oppose your mother about this.’
‘That’s true, Father,’ she said, wishing it wasn’t the case, ‘but Jesse isn’t only about his health. He has a brilliant business mind and surely being a part of that side of his life would make up for any other issues that being with him might bring, don’t you think?’
‘I think you need to be aware of the reality of a life with him,’ her father said, his voice solemn. ‘And I’m not certain you are as equipped as you might think you are.’
He walked away, leaving her to mull over his words while he served a customer.
After working for a while, Amy joined her. They worked hard to prepare for Amy’s day alone.
‘I’m sorry to be leaving you here again,’ Florence whispered when their father was serving a customer. ‘I know it’s unfair the amount of time I’ve had away from Rowe’s.’
‘It’s perfectly fine,’ Amy said. ‘If Father allows you this time, then he’ll let me have time off to make up for it at some point. He’s a fair man and always tries to keep things even between us.’
