by Anne Doughty
She tried to put the question out of mind, but once asked it wouldn’t go away. Suddenly, she noticed she was cycling slower and slower as it buzzed round and round in her head. Even as she forced herself to speed up, she felt she could almost hear Rose, asking a similar question on the day of her birthday party.
Now the day came back to her, there was something else as well. Was it Rose, or was it Hannah who’d said that if you were quite sure of the man you never gave a second thought to the place or the situation? Yes, it must have been Hannah. She’d said she never even thought of having ‘to play the Lady,’ because she was so sure about Teddy. Rose herself had left her home in Kerry, her mother and her friends and the mountains she so loved, to come to an unknown place called Annacramp, about which she knew nothing whatever, except that it was at the far end of Ireland and it was John’s home.
Suddenly, it all went very quiet inside her head, as if the nagging buzz of questions and answers had simply stopped of their own accord. All she was aware of was the fresh, rain-washed sky, the patches of blue between the moving clouds and the slight hiss of her tyres on the wet road. Perhaps they had gone away, but even if they had, she was far from sure she’d answered any of them.
‘Come in, Miss Scott. Do come in.’
Charlie Freeburn moved a comfortable chair for her to sit in front of his desk.
‘Do sit down, please. Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Thank you. That would be very nice. Milk please, but no sugar.’
She smiled to herself as she saw him pour tea into cups normally reserved for distinguished visitors. She wondered if there was even a slight shake in the hand that held the silver teapot. Certainly he did not seem quite his usual self.
‘I’m afraid I’ve had some rather bad news,’ he began, glancing at her briefly as he passed over her cup, then staring into his own.
‘Oh, I am sorry,’ she replied quietly, wondering what on earth could have disrupted his usual imperturbable manner.
‘Miss Walker has inherited a rather large fortune from an uncle in America,’ he began matter-of-factly. ‘She has given me neither a month’s notice, which would have been courteous, nor a week’s which is the normal requirement. He paused for emphasis. ‘Nor even a day’s. She has simply telephoned to say she will not be coming to work today, or ever again, to quote her own words.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Ellie, dropping her eyes, and barely controlling the sudden urge to giggle at Miss Walker’s most unladylike behaviour.
She took a deep breath, looked across the well-polished surface of the desk and found herself feeling enormous sympathy for his distress. However difficult he could be, he was always straight. He was invariably polite, even when someone had done something unfortunate, and he was perfectly capable of admitting that he was wrong, even to the carriers or the youngest member of his staff.
‘The situation would be serious enough at this close point to Christmas, but how are we going to manage in the New Year? Miss Hutchinson has been most courteous in telling me of her marriage plans. She hopes to be with us till the end of April, but that depends on her fiancés posting, which could come even sooner, and I am aware, Miss Scott, that you yourself may wish to leave for Canada in the spring.’
Put like that, his problem was glaringly obvious. The buyer, the Senior Assistant and an experienced member of staff all leaving within months was enough to upset anyone and a serious threat to the well-being of the business. She hadn’t really thought about the fact that Daisy and herself might be leaving almost together and now Miss Walker had taken herself off, virtually without warning.
‘Do you have any thoughts as to what we might do, Miss Scott?’
Ellie sipped her tea. It was beginning to get cold and she really was very thirsty. To her great surprise she saw a slight smile touch his lips as she collected herself and nodded.
‘As for the buying, Mr Freeburn, I could take that over. Since I became Senior Assistant you’ve given me a great deal of freedom to make decisions. If you’re happy about that, then it’s only a matter of carrying the decisions through by going up to Belfast myself.’
‘You would be prepared to take that on?’
‘Yes, I would. Buying, yes, but accountancy, no. I have no gift with figures, but you have two members of staff who have, Miss Hutchinson and Mr Hanna.’
He nodded slowly.
‘You are quite right. There is no reason why the buyer should also be the accountant,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘It was simply a matter of convenience and it suited Miss Walker.’
He sighed.
‘You have certainly solved the immediate problem,’ he said, nodding vigorously. ‘But where am I ever going to find a buyer when you leave me, Miss Scott?’
He looked so crestfallen, she almost wished she wasn’t going.
‘I do have one suggestion,’ she said tentatively.
‘You do? You know a buyer?’
‘I know where we could get one.’
He opened his hands in a gesture of amazement.
‘Mr Hanna,’ she said, pleased with herself for remembering not to say ‘Joe’.
He looked quite startled, peering at her closely to make sure he was hearing her properly.
‘But the Ladies Department?’ he spluttered. ‘Underwear? Corsetry?’
‘I think that Mr Hanna would see such items merely as stock. Merchandise. You remember his graphs and charts. Besides, I think he could draw on Miss Sleator’s knowledge. She may have been rather slow to accustom herself to how we work, but she hasn’t any difficulty now. If she had another six to nine months training with the idea of supporting Mr Hanna in view, I think she might surprise you.’
‘Well, you do surprise me, but then you know the young lady’s work much better than I, though I confess I can find no fault with what I see of it,’ he said warmly. ‘I must admit her mother has spoken to me most enthusiastically about her progress here.’
‘Susie is entirely practical,’ she began smiling. ‘She needs to see a problem. Preferably lay her hands on it, like those old chairs in the staff-room,’ she said, with a little laugh. ‘Then she can work out a solution. She can’t do things in her head in the way that Mr Hanna can.’
‘My dear Miss Scott, I haven’t offered you a second cup of tea. I’m so sorry. I confess I was somewhat dispirited this morning and totally preoccupied with my own problems.’
‘When I have a problem, I cycle very slowly,’ she began laughing. ‘I forget that, at that speed, I’ll be late for work.’
‘I hope you don’t have problems, Miss Scott. If I could be of any assistance …’
‘That is kind of you. My problems are really more uncertainties. Things over which I have no control. Like not knowing when my husband-to-be will be able to come home from Canada to marry me.’
‘May I ask what the possibilities are?’
‘The earliest he can possibly come is mid-March when I’m told the ice breaks on the St Lawrence Seaway, the latest would be October, though of course, I hope it will be long before that.’
‘Perhaps I might be able to make you an offer for our mutual benefit,’ he began, completely restored to his normal self. ‘Obviously your salary will be increased when you become our buyer, as from the beginning of this current month. But if you were able to stay till the end of June, to assist with Staff training in addition to buying, there would be a further increase. Perhaps helpful in setting up a new home?’ he suggested, with a slight smile, as he named a remarkably generous figure.
Ellie began to shape a courteous refusal, then changed her mind.
‘Perhaps you’d like to think it over,’ he said, seeing her hesitate.
‘No,’ she said, somewhat to her own surprise. ‘I think it’s a generous offer and I’d like the new experience. Let’s say the end of June. The summer is a much better time for travelling back and forth to Canada.’
18, Hunter Street,
Peterborough, Ont.
30, Nove
mber 1933.
Dear Ellie,
Well, we finally managed it. George seems to have been so busy since his uncle sent for him a month ago now that it was only last night that he managed to fit us in and come for his tea. I had telephoned Peterborough Lumbering as I thought he had gone back to the section he was in last year, but the foreman there told me he wasn’t in the mill itself and to try Head Office.
Anyway, he came, looking very fit and well. He’s very suntanned and seemed in very good spirits. He very kindly brought us all presents. Jimmy got a bottle of whiskey which was more than generous. I had a very nice plant and the boys had toffees. I think he enjoyed his tea. I did a big fry up like we would have had at home when we had visitors and he tucked in and left a clean plate.
He told us a lot about the company and the opening up of new sections. It appears that lumbering was terribly important to the first settlers back in the 1800’s but the whole business has changed radically since then. He explained how in the old days trees were cut in winter and sledded to the rivers over the snow to float down in the Spring. It was most interesting to hear about the different methods of controlling the logs. Sometimes rafts of logs were constructed, but this was not suitable for every location. In many rivers the logs had to be controlled by men who rode the logs, breaking up the logjams by rolling the logs loose with their spiked footwear. It sounded very dangerous to me.
I did ask exactly what he did at Head Office, but he said for the moment he was ‘getting the feel of things’ but it seemed to me he would be on the sales side. Huge amounts of timber go to Europe and he did talk about exchange rates and European currency. To tell you the truth Ellie, I didn’t follow that bit as I was getting tired. I’d had a long day wanting to have the house nice for them coming. He was to have brought someone called Jimmy, (was that the cousin from Portadown?) but he didn’t show up.
I asked him what he thought of your new job and he said it was great, just great. He was sure you’d be very good at it. Finally, I asked him when he thought he’d be able to go over for you and he said: ‘Now you’re asking.’ Then he said it was a very critical time for him, that what happened now would make a big difference later on. He was sure you’d want him to do the best he could.
He didn’t stay late as he said they have to be in the office at 7.30 in the morning because of the invoices for the outgoing timber from the mills. He said he had to wash and iron his own shirts and he wasn’t very good at it. But I must say the one he was wearing looked brand new. In fact, when he arrived I was worried the boys might climb up on his knee and mark his suit. It was very smart. He says all the young men have to wear smart clothes in his office.
Now Ellie dear, I hope I’ve told you everything. I’m very tired today for some reason or other though we weren’t late in bed last night. I’m off to post this right away as I know you’ve been waiting to hear.
With lots and lots of love from us all and especially
from your loving sister,
Polly
She added a generous row of kisses read the letter through again and sighed.
‘Jimmy, I know yer readin’ the paper, but would you just cast yer eye over this.’
He put his paper down, saw the look in her eye and reached out for the pale blue sheets she’d been about to fold to fit the airmail envelope. Jimmy was always a slow reader and Polly sat fidgeting as she watched him working his way down the pages.
‘Aye, well,’ he said handing it back to her, the question unspoken in his eyes.
‘D’ye think I’ve told it right?’
‘I think ye’ve done a great job. Ellie’s no fool. I think she’ll read between the lines.’
‘What d’ye mean? I was just trying to tell her all about him comin’.’
‘Aye an’ I’ve said ye’ve done a grand job. It’s a pity the man’s so fond of the sound of his own voice and full of himself as well. If Ellie’s any wit, she’ll see it for herself. I don’t think George Robinson has any plans for anyone other than George Robinson.’
‘Oh Jimmy, you don’t mean it do you? She’s been goin’ with him since goodness knows when. She loves him.’
‘Aye, but does he love anyone but himself? Ask yourself that, Polly?’
Polly had known for a long time that something wasn’t right and now Jimmy had put his finger on it. Just like him. He said nothing and said nothing and then when he did say something you knew he was right.
‘What am I goin’ to do, Jimmy? What am I goin’ to do?’ Polly asked, as she dropped her head down in her hands and burst into tears.
Jimmy let the newspaper fall on the floor and put his arms round her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Although the February day had been bright and sunny the fields beyond the train windows were still iced with snow. Only where a south-facing slope showed green, a patch in the sparkling white carpet, or a bare hawthorn hedge had provided shelter and created a ragged edge, was there any break in the crisp blanket spread by a brief but determined flurry the previous evening.
The sun was going down in a blaze of gold, the sky almost cloudless, the River Bann full to the top of its banks, a perfect mirror of the pale sky above, as they steamed along through the quiet, empty countryside. No sign yet of even the earliest ploughing, the land still asleep. No animals either. Cows still indoors in warm barns, the hay stacked high to keep them fed.
Ellie took in every detail of the wintry landscape, delighting in this new perspective. This was the first time she’d done the weekly trip to and from Belfast in snow and she smiled to think what Polly would make of this light dusting.
Jimmy had bought a Box Brownie for Christmas so they could take pictures to send to family and friends and the ones she’d had of the snow in Peterborough showed it knee deep compared with this little skim. Some were taken outside their small terraced house where even the windowsills carried a depth of a foot or more. The pavements beyond were piled high, the cleared snow a compacted wall with a fresh coating on top.
The boys were shown up to their waists in the park where they’d built a huge snowman with other children from their street. Polly and Jimmy had posed in front of the enormous figure, little Ronnie held aloft on Jimmy’s shoulder, peered down curiously, while the others all smiled for Uncle Jim who’d come with them to take the group picture.
It looked like a different world under the extraordinary thickness of snow and Ellie had wondered how people got to work and did their shopping and dried their clothes, but when she asked, Polly wrote back that people went on just as if it were perfectly normal. She thought the inhabitants of Peterborough would be just as amazed at the way everyone in Ireland expected to be rained upon, regularly and heavily, and didn’t let it bother them unduly.
The train was warm and the regular rhythm was soothing. Ellie felt her eyes close and smiled to herself when they jerked open again as the train moved across a set of points. She didn’t want to go to sleep. It was much too lovely watching the shadows lengthen and the last rays of the sun flash like fire behind the bare hedges on the horizon.
It wasn’t surprising she was tired. It had been an early start and a busy day, but it had all gone very well. She had little idea of how much money she’d spent on behalf of Freeburns, but she knew the prices of the individual items were right and the quantities she’d ordered were what would be needed. Joe would work out the figures from the invoices she had in her bag and she would laugh at the sheer size of it when he announced the final figure.
She thought Joe actually liked her to be so amazed at how much she’d spent. She’d told him once it made her feel like royalty. She’d heard they never handled money, just left the payment for whatever they required for someone else to see to.
She leant back comfortably in her seat and thought how amazing it was that tomorrow would be the first of March. Admittedly March could be as cold and unpleasant as January or February, but somehow one always felt better once March came. You knew the worst was over and h
owever bad things might be, one could be sure they would improve.
Thinking of it now being March brought back into her mind the vexed question of George coming home. She had taken Rose’s advice long since and told him she would prefer to be married in Grange Church rather than go out to be married in Canada. At the time, he’d said that was fine, just fine. Whatever she wanted was all right with him, but he’d been gone almost two years now. ‘A year or two,’ was what they’d said when they parted, but two years on, they were no nearer to setting a date.
She couldn’t bear the thought that George might no longer be the person she’d loved, or that she herself had changed in the time he’d been away, but she knew that could not be resolved, one way or the other, until they were face-to-face. She would just have to wait. It would be bad enough having to make such an awful discovery here in Ireland. The thought of it happening once she arrived in Canada she couldn’t bear.
More than once over the winter, she and Rose had written about George and she felt sure that what Rose had advised made good sense. Nothing that had happened since they’d first spoken about him had done anything to reassure her. No matter how she put it to him he still insisted he wasn’t free to plan ahead for them. Now he was saying he couldn’t leave the new job for any length of time, certainly not for a few months yet.
Sometime in January she’d suggested he come home for a holiday in May or June. By now, she felt, he must be entitled to some holiday. They could get married then and she’d follow him back when she’d completed her commitment to Mr Freeburn.
But, so far, he’d still not said anything at all about the possibility of taking a holiday. Recently she’d had several letters that talked at some length about re-organisation. New methods of marketing were also involved, about which he seemed very excited, though he didn’t explain how these changes would affect him.
