McQueen's Agency

by Reynolds, Maureen

  How happy she had been that day. She vowed then that she would spend her entire life in that country and that had been her intention until arriving back in the city. A letter was waiting for her; a simple white envelope that held no warning of its contents.

  Tom was dead.

  He had been a passenger in a van involved in a road traffic accident. The driver, a work colleague, had escaped unharmed. Tom had often told her what a reckless driver his colleague was. Always driving too fast and taking unnecessary chances. He had been told off by the boss of the firm but he never heeded any warnings and now this accident had happened and Tom had paid the price with his life while the driver had escaped unharmed and had even been acquitted of the charge. She couldn’t stop thinking if only Tom had been with someone else in another vehicle or if the boss of the firm had been more strict with this reckless driver then Tom would still be alive. Her days were filled with angry thoughts of ‘If only’.

  She felt ashamed now but at the time she had wished it had been the driver who died, a thought that sent her almost crazy, raging at the four walls in the flat and crying non-stop. Nell had come to see her but the joy and pleasure had all disappeared to be replaced by a deep sadness and rage.

  She had carried on working for a few more months, going out and coming in but never ever leaving the flat except for work. Then she booked her passage home, bringing with her the money she had saved; the money she now hoped would finance the agency.

  The trip home had been a terrible time for her. It was a complete contrast to the journey out. She stayed in the cabin for most of the day, only venturing out at night for an evening meal. Then she would walk the decks for hours until tiredness drove her to bed.

  To start with some of the cabin crew had asked her if everything was all right but after the first week they stopped, apart from one kind steward who brought her meals to the cabin and checked on her periodically. No doubt they thought she was some kind of crazy woman.

  She quickly gathered all the photographs and stuffed them back in the handbag. It was a pity that memories couldn’t be stuffed away like that, pushed into some dark handbag and put away in the wardrobe.

  It was going to be a busy day tomorrow. She would drive the family Anglia to Wormit station where her parents would catch a train on the first step of their journey to Southampton, and the ship The Golden Empress. Then over to the agency where hopefully there would be clients all eager for her services.

  In spite of her sad memories, she slept quite well and Coronation day dawned grey, misty and drizzly.

  Her mother was ready to leave. She gazed out the window at the weather.

  ‘What a shame the sun’s not shining for the Queen.’ She turned to Molly. ‘Now you will be all right on your own, Molly?’ Her voice sounded concerned. ‘This new venture is a worry to us but if it doesn’t work you will go back to Woolworths, won’t you?’

  Molly had worked in the department store ever since arriving home. She had loved the work and the company of the other girls but had set her heart on being her own boss. Molly, who didn’t want to contemplate failure, nodded.

  ‘Of course I will, Mum. Don’t worry about me.’

  ‘If you need any help just ask Marigold next door. She said she would keep an eye on you.’ Her mother stopped to load the suitcases into the car. ‘And you’ll look after Sabby?’

  Sabby was the large tabby cat. Her father, with his wicked sense of humour had named her after one of his favourite films, Sabu, The Elephant Boy but because the cat was a she, the name had been changed to Sabby.

  Later, she stood on the station platform and waved her parents away until the train was half way across the Tay Bridge before driving the Anglia back to the garage.

  Later, in the office, she was despondent that no enquiries had come in. Edna appeared and they sat down with a cup of tea but no clients.

  Edna kept looking at the door every time someone passed by. If she could have drawn people in by the intensity of her stare then the office would have been mobbed. However no one even gave a passing glance to the shop, let alone crossed the threshold.

  Later Edna’s mother and son appeared and she introduced them. Billy looked like his mother. He had the same dark hair and brown eyes.

  ‘I’m taking Billy into the town to see the celebrations,’ said Edna’s mum, Irene.

  Molly said. ‘There doesn’t seem to be anyone wanting our services today Edna so go off and spend the day with your family. Maybe some work will come in tomorrow.’

  3

  Molly was tidying up the reception area when the bell above the door made a small musical sound. At first she thought Edna had come back for something which made the woman’s appearance quite startling.

  She looked like a film star, dressed in an expensive looking grey suit with matching black shoes, handbag and a small black hat perched on her blonde wavy hair. She was beautiful. The only thing to mar the perfection was the woman’s right arm, which was in a sling. Molly saw the white bandage, just visible at her wrist.

  The stranger hesitated in the doorway. Molly went over and introduced herself.

  ‘Good morning, I’m Molly McQueen, owner of the agency. Can I help you?’

  She felt quite dowdy next to this exquisite creature.

  The woman seemed to make up her mind. ‘My name is Mrs Lena Lamont and I’m looking for a temporary secretary for a few weeks,’ she gestured towards her arm, ‘until I get this plaster off. My husband, brother and I run a family antique business and I do all the paperwork, but since my accident I haven’t been able to keep up with it and it’s starting to pile up. It’s mostly typing, filing and taking down letters. I saw your advert in the paper.’

  Molly made a great show of looking at the empty diary. ‘Yes, that can be arranged, Mrs Lamont. When do you want her to start?’

  ‘Oh, as soon as possible. Perhaps next Monday.’

  Molly could hardly believe her luck. This job would keep Edna employed for a while. She got all the relevant paperwork out of the desk and wrote down the details.

  ‘We work from home most of the time and my address is Cliff Top House. It’s just a few miles from Newport-on-Tay.’

  Molly gave her a sharp glance, ‘Can you give me the directions to the house, please?’

  ‘Of course. It’s about five miles from Newport, on the St Andrews Road.’

  Molly wrote all this information down and asked, ‘What time would you like our secretary to work?’

  Mrs Lamont gave this a bit of thought. ‘Perhaps ten o’clock in the morning till three o’clock. If we need any more I can always arrange it with her in advance. I may need help on a Saturday but not on a Sunday.’

  Molly offered her client a cup of tea but she declined. ‘My husband will be picking me up. We came over on the ferry. We have a shop in the Nethergate, Lamont Antiques, and I like to drop in every now and then. We also wanted to see some of the events that are planned for the Coronation celebrations but the town is so busy we might give it a miss.’

  After she left, Molly kept a lookout for Edna to give her the good news and also to give her the times of the ferry and the bus that regularly ran from Newport to St Andrews.

  According to Lena Lamont, the bus stop was a few hundred yards from Cliff Top House.

  By four o’clock, there was no sign of Edna so Molly decided to go to her house later with the details.

  She was debating about closing up at five thirty when the phone rang. Molly, who hadn’t taken a message on it since it was installed, looked quite dazed at the insistent ring before picking it up.

  ‘McQueen’s Agency 3435.’

  ‘Good afternoon. I saw your advert in the paper and I want to hire someone who can do shorthand, typing and bookkeeping.’ The man had a pleasant voice and sounded quite young.

  Molly couldn’t believe it. Two jobs in one afternoon.

  He started to give his details and Molly had to lean over and grab the diary.

  ‘My name is Mr
Knox and my address is 27 Constitution Place. I’m writing a book and I need help with taking notes and typing the manuscript. Is it possible to have someone tomorrow? I’ll need her for a week or two.’

  Molly said that would be no problem.

  After the call, she realised it was a problem. There would be no one to stay in the office next week and take messages. What a pity Mary couldn’t start until the end of June.

  It meant getting in touch with Jean, one of her friends who had offered to help out if needed and, if other work came in, then it would mean calling on other friends. Molly was suddenly struck with how small her workforce was but until she had built up a steady stream of clients, her finances couldn’t stretch to hiring permanent staff.

  Edna and her family lived two flights up in a two-roomed flat. The close was still well lit by the evening sunlight that had emerged after a day of grey drizzle. Molly thought she wouldn’t like to climb these stairs in the dark but maybe it was well lit in the winter.

  Billy was in bed, tired out after a busy day in the town, but Edna and her Mum were pleased that work had come in.

  Molly explained about the job at Cliff Top House. ‘I’ll do that one, Edna, because I live on the same side of the river and also it doesn’t start until next week. Another job has come in which starts tomorrow and I thought you could take that one on. Molly left the typed sheet with Mr Knox’s details before leaving to make her way to Craig Pier and home. She felt tired and was glad the day was over.

  Tomorrow, she would get in touch with Jean about coming into the office next week and she also wondered if Mary might like to come in after school and all day Saturday. She would write her letter tomorrow.

  It had been an eventful day and hopefully the start of a successful agency.

  4

  Harry Hawkins made his way down the narrow gangplank of the cargo ship and, dodging the many obstacles that lay on the dockside like discarded rubbish, made his way towards the town.

  He was in a jubilant mood and still couldn’t believe his good luck. This was his first visit to Dundee and what a bonus it had turned out to be.

  He put up the collar of his jacket. It may have been June, the month with the longest day coming up, he thought, but the weather wasn’t summery.

  Walking swiftly through the Victoria Arch, he saw the bar at the corner of Dock Street. The City Centre Bar. It was seven o’clock and the bar was very busy.

  He managed to get a space and when the barman approached, ordered a double measure of navy rum, straight from the bottle with nothing added.

  The alcohol hit his stomach and he felt the warmth spread through him, Aye, there was nothing to beat a nip of rum on the cold nights at sea.

  An old man standing next to him noticed his drink.

  ‘Are you a seaman then?’ he said, nodding towards Harry’s glass, which was almost empty.

  Harry was in an expansive mood tonight. He turned to the man and nodded. ‘Aye, I am.’

  The old man had pale blue watery eyes that immediately became animated.

  ‘I’m an old sailor myself. Served with the Merchant Navy for twenty-five years until I retired in 1940. I wanted to stay on but my eyesight wasn’t that great so it was cheerio to the seven seas and back on dry land for me. Are you in the Merchant Navy?’

  ‘Aye, I am. I’ve been at sea since I was sixteen,’ said Harry. ‘I’ve been knocking around the world ever since. Last year I got a job on some of the big ocean liners as a cabin steward, but now I’m back working on a freight ship. We docked a couple of days ago and leave tomorrow.’

  Harry ordered another drink for both of them. He wanted to keep a clear head tonight so this was to be his last.

  The old man was in a reminiscent mood.

  ‘I miss the sea. There’s nothing like the wide open ocean, except maybe when there’s a twenty-foot wave coming towards you. It fair beats living in a wee dark single room in Gellatly Street. Still, I like to go round the docks most days and look at the ships.’ He started to laugh and took a large gulp of his rum.

  ‘I was just going to say, when I see the ships, I feel like becoming a stowaway. Now is that not a stupid thing for an old man like me? What good would I be on the deck of a ship going through a force ten gale? Let me buy you a drink.’

  Harry didn’t want another one but the man had caught the attention of the barman and Harry was dismayed to see it was another double measure. But he was a man who could always hold his drink and wasn’t too bothered.

  It was coming up for nine thirty and closing time and he reckoned he had loads of time to get back to the docks.

  ‘You wouldn’t like to come up and have some supper with me?’ The man sounded hopeful.

  Any other time Harry would have jumped at the chance to have a meal that wasn’t cooked on the boat, but he had other plans this evening.

  ‘I’m sorry, mate, I’m meeting someone and I have to be back on board by eleven. Maybe we’ll bump into one another tomorrow if you come to the dockside. The name’s Harry Hawkins and the boat’s called The Mary Anne.’

  They were out on the pavement by this time and although it was twilight, there was a mass of dark clouds that made for a bad forecast.

  The old man looked at the sky as well. ‘Aye, it’ll be heavy rain before the morning.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’m Tam Burns and it’s been great meeting up with you. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Harry watched as he walked up the street. He had no idea where Gellatly Street was but it couldn’t be far away if the old man had walked to this bar.

  As he turned away, a small sharp stab of fear hit him. He dismissed it immediately but it still niggled him as he made his way back.

  He reached the Victoria Arch when it started to rain, heavy drops that blotted out the surrounding landscape. Harry pulled up his collar and started to run towards the docks.

  He muttered under his breath at this turn of events. He could well have done with it being a fine night for his business. What if the person didn’t hang around and wait in this heavy downpour?

  Urgency made him run faster and he was nearly out of breath as the lights of the ships came into view.

  Just a hundred or so yards to go and then he could get a good night’s sleep. He wasn’t going to be greedy. A few hundred pounds was all he was asking. Enough to let him retire from the hard slog of the freight ships, to maybe settle down somewhere in a nice little house. Maybe here in Dundee, he thought. Then again, maybe not.

  He felt the rope around his leg a split second before he plunged into the oily waters. His head hit the concrete wharf and his last thought was of Tam and how he should have taken up his offer of supper.

  No one from the ships heard him fall and there were no urgent calls to help a fellow shipmate from drowning.

  The ships lay at anchor as the heavy rain battered down on their decks and it looked as if the crews were all below decks. No one saw Harry fall.

  One person was abroad that night however. A person who slipped from the deep shadows, peered casually over the silent water then returned the same way they had come …

  The following morning saw some sunshine at last. The previous night’s storm had passed and it was going to be a pleasant day.

  Tam, along with his faithful Jack Russell terrier, made their way past the Earl Gray dock. He thought he would go and say hello to Harry before he sailed. The place was a hive of activity as cargoes were loaded and unloaded. He soon found The Mary Anne and seeing a young lad on deck, he called out,

  ‘Is Harry Hawkins about?’

  The young lad shook his head. ‘He didn’t come back last night and the captain says he’ll sail without him if he isn’t here by dinnertime. Must have got drunk last night and be sleeping it off somewhere.’

  Tam couldn’t understand this. Harry had been fine when they had parted company.

  ‘No lad, he was with me and he left to come back to his ship. He’d had a drink but he was fine.’

  The lad shrugged. �
�Well he’s not here now.’

  Tam didn’t own a watch but he reckoned it must be half past ten. He would wait here until dinnertime and hope that Harry had returned by then.

  He found a vacant spot where he sat down on some discarded boxes and kept the ship in his sight.

  Apart from the shouts and commands of the stevedores swarming around the freight, there didn’t seem to be any sign of Harry. Tam then saw a dock official go up the gangway of The Mary Anne. Good, he thought, the captain has notified the proper officials about Harry’s disappearance.

  The man wasn’t long on board when he reappeared and made his way back along the wharf. A few minutes later the ship was ready to sail.

  Tam got stiffly to his feet and made his way towards it. The young lad was overseeing the lifting of the gangway. Tam shouted up. ‘Is there any news?’

  The lad looked annoyed at having to stop what he was doing. ‘No, he hasn’t appeared and the captain has notified officials that he’s a missing person.’ He turned his back on Tam and The Mary Anne slipped from her mooring on her way back to Rotterdam.

  There was nothing else he could do. Tugging gently on Rover’s lead, they walked slowly back. Rover hurried over to the edge of the wharf.

  ‘What is it?’ said Tam, looking over the edge into the murky water. Rover was sniffing at a stain on the concrete.

  Tam’s head was too full of the mystery of Harry’s disappearance to really take much notice.

  ‘Come away, Rover, it’s just rust from those heavy chains.’

  5

  Edna had difficulty finding the house. It lay back from the road, hidden by a high hedge. The garden, which had obviously been well cultivated in a previous life, was overgrown and had a neglected air. The lawn looked as if it had been cut with a pair of rusty shears.

  There were some lovely rose bushes but their thorny stems had encroached onto the brick path. Edna was careful to avoid these thorns, as she didn’t want to snag her good pair of nylon stockings. Nylons were very hard to find in the shops and she kept this pair strictly for work.