Beyond the Sunset

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘You deserve this,’ his sister Hallie said on the last evening. ‘You’re the best of brothers.’ She came to plonk a careless kiss on his cheek and finger the travelling writing desk, which might be old but was still a handsome piece. He’d had it out on the kitchen table several times, fingering the inlay work on the outside of the lid and enjoying the luxury of such a well-fitted interior.

  He shook her arm gently to get her full attention. ‘You’ll look after our mother, Hallie love?’

  She turned towards him. ‘You know I will. And we’ll be fine, I’m sure. They’ll send your wages round each week. We shall think ourselves rich without you eating us out of house and home.’

  He gave the usual response to this teasing about his appetite. ‘There’s a lot of me to sustain.’ But actually, he rarely allowed himself to eat freely at home, as he did at the Featherworths’, because he and his family had to watch every penny. The tailor had said at his first fitting that he’d probably put on weight if he started eating better, so he’d made allowances for that in the clothes. Harry had been a bit embarrassed but he knew the man had meant it kindly. There were a lot of very thin people in Outham these days. He realised his sister was still talking and tried to pay better attention.

  ‘If I can save any money while you’re away, I’ll put it in the Yorkshire Penny Bank, like you showed me.’

  ‘Don’t stint yourselves.’

  Tears suddenly filled Hallie’s eyes and she flung her arms round his neck. ‘I’m going to miss you so much, Zachary love.’

  He gave her a hug. ‘I’ll miss you, too. I wish you could come with me. Wouldn’t we enjoy the adventure if we were together?’

  She hugged him back convulsively then dried her eyes. ‘Lasses don’t get the chance to travel like men do.’

  ‘One day I’ll take you to see the sea at Blackpool.’ It was an old promise, but maybe he’d be able to keep it after he got back. ‘And don’t forget, Uncle Richard has invited you two to go and see him sometimes. It’s lovely out at the farm.’

  She pulled a face. ‘I don’t like going there. He keeps trying to get me to ride one of his horses and I’ve always been afraid of them.’

  ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of. Uncle Richard’s horses are gentle and well-fed. I like riding them, only wish I could get out there to do it more often.’

  ‘Well, we will go and visit him, because Mum enjoys seeing her brother, but I’m still not going near those horses. Give me a good brisk walk any day, if I want to spend time out of doors.’

  On his final visit to the Featherworths’, Zachary overheard his hostess say to her husband, ‘That young man will do. He has an innate courtesy which will carry him through situations where he doesn’t know the accepted way to behave.’

  Her praise stayed with him and helped give him courage to face the unknown, not to mention the huge responsibility that was his alone: to find the four heirs somewhere in a distant foreign land.

  He and Mr Featherworth were travelling First Class on the train, something Zachary hadn’t thought he’d ever do. As he took a seat, he was even more thankful for his new clothes because the other passengers were well dressed. They spoke to one another quietly, their accents very different from his.

  He made a solemn vow as the train drew away from Outham station that he would bring the Blake sisters safely back here and prove himself worthy of the trust being placed in him.

  Mr Featherworth got into conversation with the gentleman next to him and Zachary, sitting by the window, listened to them chatting about the poor widowed Queen, wondering if she’d ever take up her public duties properly again.

  Excitement humming through him, he stared out of the window at an England he’d never seen before.

  Alice went to see Mr Featherworth the day after she moved in to ask that the housekeeping money be given directly to her from now on. Since the lawyer was away, his clerk received her.

  Mr Dawson stared at her in surprise when she explained the purpose of her visit. ‘The money’s always delivered to the house each week, not to the shop. I send the office boy with it. Prebble pays the wages out of the takings, but we keep the shop and house expenses separate.’

  ‘Dot never receives any money. She says Harry Prebble takes care of everything.’

  Mr Dawson rang a handbell and when a lad tapped on the door and came in, asked, ‘What have you been doing with the money I’ve been sending to Dot at Blake’s, Sidney?’

  ‘Harry said to give it to him, Mr Dawson. He’s been providing the food for her from the shop.’

  ‘Has he, indeed. And did he make an accounting to you of how the money had been spent?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Every week, sir.’

  ‘Fetch the account books, if you please, and say nothing of this to anyone, least of all Prebble.’

  The lad was back in less than a minute, looking worried. He set the account book in front of his employer and opened it at the most recent weekly page. ‘I check the lists he gives me carefully before entering them, exactly as you’ve shown me.’

  ‘I’m sure you do. I just want to check something.’ Mr Dawson beckoned to Miss Blair and opened the book sideways on the desk so that they could both see it. ‘This is an account of what has been spent each week. Would you know whether these items have been given to Dot?’

  She studied it. ‘Unless she’s lying, and I don’t think that girl has a bad bone in her body, there’s one regular item here that she’s never received – biscuits. I’d have to ask her about the rest to be certain, but she and I checked the pantry together and it isn’t all that well stocked. I had to spend some of my own money to buy a cake yesterday.’

  He frowned down at the account book as she sat back in her seat. ‘I’d be grateful if you’d not say anything about this until Mr Featherworth returns from London. In the meantime, I’ll give you five pounds and you can stock up on what you need. It’s your own business whether you buy from Blake’s or elsewhere.’

  ‘I’ll keep careful accounts.’

  ‘That would be best. And I’ll make certain the lad gives the weekly housekeeping money to you from now on. If the amount we’ve agreed on isn’t adequate, please let us know.’

  ‘I’m sure it will be. I’m not a big eater.’

  ‘In the meantime, you and Dot can start making the inventory, as agreed, even the items in the attic, if you’d be so kind. Everything will have to be shared equally between the four sisters, so we must do that as fairly as we can.’

  When he rose to escort her to the outer door, he said with a smile, ‘I hope you’ll be happy in Outham, Miss Blair. And please don’t think I’m being impudent, but my sister was wondering if you’d care to take tea with us one Saturday. She doesn’t like to think of you knowing no one in town apart from your cousin, and I know Mrs Rainey is a very busy woman.’

  ‘How very kind of your sister! I’d love to come to tea.’

  She walked back, tired now, because she still hadn’t fully recovered from her long tussle with influenza, but much heartened by that interview.

  She didn’t want to deal with Prebble more than she had to. For all his politeness, there was something about him that made her feel uneasy. And he’d looked at her clothes with a scornful curl to his lip this morning, as if judging the price of every garment.

  If he wanted a fight, though, she’d give him one. An uppity young fellow definitely wasn’t going to dictate how she spent her food allowance or know where every penny went. She wasn’t being paid wages, just bed and board, but she had some savings and this would give her time to recover fully before she sought another job.

  She sighed. She didn’t want to leave Outham again, but needs must. She wasn’t going to be a burden to her cousins.

  London was so big, Zachary was grateful to have Mr Featherworth there to show him how to get about such a big, bustling place.

  They stayed in a hotel, another new experience, and ate their evening meal there. He’d have called it ‘tea’ but
people here called it dinner. To him, dinner was the midday meal. He watched the lawyer closely and followed his example, breathing a sigh of relief after getting through the meal without making a fool of himself. When he thought about it later, he couldn’t even remember what he’d eaten.

  He had trouble getting to sleep, not only through excitement but because the streets outside seemed full of people and vehicles until a late hour. He couldn’t help worrying that tomorrow or the day after he’d be going on board the ship and after that, he’d have no one to show him how to behave. He grew angry with himself then. He had a tongue in his head, didn’t he?

  The next morning after breakfast Mr Featherworth clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Let’s go and buy the final few items now.’

  The area near the docks was even busier than the streets round the hotel, and the ship’s chandler’s was a vast echoing place, which made Blake’s Emporium seem very small in contrast, though the latter was the largest shop in Outham.

  In the chandler’s they inspected ship’s kits, which contained all sorts of bits and pieces, like blankets, a bucket or cooking pots. But Mr Featherworth said Zachary’s food would be provided and he’d already sent bedding to the ship. ‘Kits like these are for steerage passengers. Have you no kits suitable for cabin passengers?’

  The man looked at him in puzzlement, then at Zachary. ‘They usually take everything they need with them, sir. Is it you who’s going on the ship?’

  ‘No. It’s my young friend, who has had to make this journey suddenly to help one of my clients and therefore hasn’t had time to sort out all the equipment needed. We were told you’d help. Perhaps you could advise us?’

  ‘I’d be happy to, sir.’

  Zachary was disgusted to see a coin exchange hands. He’d think shame to need bribing to do his job in the shop, and what was this place but a glorified shop?

  ‘I’d suggest taking along some treats, because the food can get monotonous, even for cabin class travellers – nuts, pickles, jam, dried fruit, that sort of thing. All food should be kept in tins or jars to prevent pests eating it.’

  He studied Zachary again, not an approving glance, in spite of the bribe he’d received. ‘Do you have a straw hat, sir. No? Well, you’ll need one because of the heat near the Equator. I’d recommend buying two, as they sometimes blow overboard. And have you enough pairs of socks? I’d say you need three dozen at least. And marine soap, for use with salt water.’

  Mr Featherworth was looking surprised, so Zachary said hastily, ‘Surely I’ll not need any more clothes? Are there no facilities for washing those I have?’

  ‘The stewards will do that for you, but you’ll need to pay them for doing it.’

  The lawyer hummed and hawed, but they came away with yet more goods and clothes.

  ‘I’ll try to be very economical with my travelling money,’ Zachary said as they walked away with a lad following them pushing the new possessions in a handcart.

  ‘Not too economical,’ Mr Featherworth said firmly, ‘or you’ll not fit in, nor will the young ladies on the way back.’

  The following morning they went to the shipping agent to find out when the cabin passengers were boarding and found it was that very day.

  Zachary was thoughtful as they took a cab back to the hotel.

  ‘You’re very quiet. Is something wrong?’

  He looked at the lawyer. ‘No. Well, not exactly. But you’ve spent a lot of money on me, and you’re trusting me with more. I’m praying that I’ll not let you down.’

  The older man laid one hand on his shoulder and gave it a quick, friendly squeeze. ‘I’ve learned that people can only do their best, Zachary. No one can ever do more than that.’

  ‘You know I’ll try my hardest.’

  ‘I’d not be sending you if I didn’t have confidence in you.’

  That thought heartened him greatly as they went to fetch his luggage. As he boarded the ship, he turned at the top of the gangplank and saw the lawyer watching him. A final wave and Mr Featherworth was gone.

  Zachary squared his shoulders and followed the steward across the deck, twisting his way between crates and boxes, busy sailors and people who looked even more apprehensive than he felt.

  Where were the convicts? he wondered. Would they be dreadful, ruffianly types? And would the cabin passengers look down on him because of the way he spoke? Once they got under way, would he be seasick?

  He grinned suddenly. In spite of all his worries, he had never felt so free since his father died. This was an adventure and he meant to enjoy every minute of it.

  Zachary was dismayed when he saw how small the cabin was. It had two bunks, one above the other, with a small washstand attached to the wall at the far end, leaving a narrow space beside it, partly behind the bunks, where they could presumably put their cabin luggage. There were two drawers underneath the lower bunk and a bucket and chamber pot inside the wash stand, both with covers and set securely into holes in the shelves.

  There was barely enough room for a man as tall as him to get into and out of the lower bunk. The cabin door opened straight on to the deck, where a few well-dressed people (presumably the first class cabin passengers) were standing or sitting. Crew members worked or moved around them, hurrying about their duties, and down on the main deck there were piles of boxes, crates and more crew members.

  The steward who had shown him to the cabin was very attentive and offered him a great deal of information about how the ship would function once it was under way. ‘I’m Portis, sir, and I’ll be in charge of the deck cabins, so if you need anything, you have only to ask.’

  Primed by Mr Featherworth, Zachary gave him half a crown and thanked him for his help, though it went against the grain to give away money for nothing after so many years of frugality.

  The coin vanished quickly into a pocket. ‘Thank you, sir. I’ll just show you the dining room, which is also the day area, though passengers mostly sit on deck unless the weather is inclement. After that, I must get back to work.’

  Portis led the way into a room which had a large table in the centre, a table that was fixed to the floor, and chairs attached to the walls when not in use by hooks and sturdy leather straps.

  He saw Zachary staring at them. ‘You won’t want chairs flying around when it’s rough, will you, sir?’

  ‘Er – no.’

  ‘I’d advise you to make sure everything in your cabin is either in a drawer or in your portmanteau. If you leave things lying around, they’re likely to get broken or damaged, even in moderately rough weather.

  A man standing at the other end of the room stared at them as if he didn’t like what he saw.

  ‘Ah, Mr Gleesome. May I introduce you to Mr Carr, one of your fellow passengers. How is Mrs Gleesome feeling now?’

  ‘Still not so well. I hope she’ll get used to the motion of the ship.’

  ‘I’m sure she will, sir.’

  Gleesome nodded to them and wandered out, looking harassed and worried.

  The steward winked at Zachary. ‘A delicate lady, Mrs Gleesome, as you’ll find. She’ll have no choice but to get used to it once we leave, though. The ship turns back for no one.’

  ‘Are many people seasick?’

  ‘Some are. I always say you have to set your mind to it that you’re not going to give in, then even if you feel a trifle nauseous, you soon recover. Let’s hope you’re one of the lucky ones who don’t get seasick.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘It makes my job easier.’

  Zachary went to stand by the rail and watch the busy scene on the dock. When he returned to the cabin, he found a young man standing there looking upset. The stranger appeared to be about twenty, was dressed as a gentleman but had a broad face with a childish expression that sat ill with the fine clothes. He was as tall as Zachary but much more muscular, looking physically strong. But his face – well, if Zachary hadn’t known better, he’d have said the man was one of those who never really grew up, who had a childish mind in a man’s body. Surel
y not? If he was like that, what was he doing on board a ship on his own? Or perhaps he had family in another cabin?

  They studied one another for a moment and when the newcomer didn’t speak, he held out one hand. ‘I’m Zachary Carr. Are you sharing this cabin with me?’

  ‘Yes. I’m Leopold Hutton, but people usually call me Leo. I don’t like being called Leopold. My mother always calls me Leo, whatever he says.’ He blinked as if close to tears at the mention of his mother and looked round. ‘It’s a very small bedroom.’

  ‘Yes.’ Zachary glanced down ruefully at himself. ‘And we’re both a bit tall for squashing into small places. Which bunk do you want?’

  ‘The top one.’

  ‘So do I. Tell you what, we’ll toss a coin for it.’

  The other nodded but made no move to take a coin out of his pocket, just waited for Zachary to take the lead.

  He lost the toss, so had to make do with the bottom bunk and studied it grimly, sitting on it and bouncing up and down on the hard mattress. He couldn’t imagine how he’d sleep in such a cramped space.

  ‘I’ve never been on a ship before,’ Leo volunteered.

  ‘Neither have I.’

  ‘What did you do before you came here?’

  ‘Worked in a grocery store.’ He didn’t intend to pretend to be what he wasn’t, so added, ‘I got a job there when I was a lad. I was one of the lucky ones and didn’t have to go into the mill. Have you ever seen a cotton mill?’

  ‘No. You started work when you were a boy?’

  ‘Yes, twelve. What do you do with yourself?’

  Now the tears did flow. ‘I used to live with my mother. We were happy. Then she married my stepfather and he doesn’t like me to be with them.’

  ‘Oh. Is that why you’re going to Australia?’

  Silence then, ‘He said it’d make a man of me.’

  ‘What did your mother say?’

  ‘She cried a lot, but she always does as he tells her.’ Leo began to sniffle, pulling out a handkerchief and mopping his face. But the tears kept flowing.