by Valerie Wood
Billy grinned at his mother and then, catching sight of someone over her shoulder, he raised an arm and waved.
Local townspeople, who knew the names of Billington and Rayner, had gathered to see the bride and the fashionable guests, and were now moving away. Only a straggle of poorly dressed women and barefoot children were still standing watching. One of the children was waving her hand.
‘Surely you are not familiar with those people, Billy?’ Henrietta asked humourously. ‘Friends of yours!’
‘Not friends, Aunt. But I know them, some of them, yes.’
Sammi chuckled. ‘Have you got an admirer, Billy?’
Billy laughed and shook his head, then waved again as their carriage arrived. ‘Remind me to talk to you about her later, Sammi. There’s something I want to ask you.’
After the formal reception was over, a party was to be held in the evening for those who wished to stay. The ladies retired to a sitting-room to rest before the festivities began, while some of the men went off with Arthur Rayner to look at the trains and the engines in the station, and William went to Anlaby to sit with his brother Isaac and tell him all that had happened at the wedding.
‘Try not to mention the child or James, dear,’ Ellen said as she saw him off from the front of the hotel. ‘It won’t do him any good to become distressed. I wouldn’t be surprised if the upset of it all was the cause of his illness.’
He promised that he wouldn’t. ‘I feel so sad for him,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t seem fair that he should miss his son’s wedding.’
‘Shall I come with you? Two of us could cheer him, perhaps, and it is such a strain talking to Mildred.’
‘No, my dear. It would seem odd if you didn’t stay. Bear up if you can and come later after the dancing.’
She leaned towards him. ‘And who shall I dance with, my love, when you are not there? There will be no young swain wanting to dance with an old woman like me, when there are so many bright-eyed young lovelies around.’
He bent to kiss her. ‘They don’t know what they are missing then, these young men. Poor things, they have to wait until they reach maturity to appreciate real beauty.’
But have you seen your eldest daughter, William? she mused as she waved him good-bye. Sammi’s last veil of childishness is about to float away. I could see it as she dressed for the wedding today. She looks so lovely, she’s hovering on the brink of womanhood, yet she is ruining her chances of a good marriage in her concern for the child. I only hope … She sighed and turned to go back into the hotel. She could only hope that her impulsive daughter didn’t become involved with anyone unsuitable. I must watch out for her. And Betsy, ah, Betsy, there is some dangerous excitement simmering there. She, too, must be watched. Growing up is not easy – so many temptations.
Ellen rejoined Mildred and Harriet’s mother and some other ladies to drink tea; Gilbert and Harriet were having their wedding photographs taken with their attendants, and Betsy and Sammi, bored of sitting, took a stroll around the foyer of the hotel until the festivities began. They had taken a second perambulation around the floor when a man and woman came through the doors. Sammi and Betsy merely glanced at the couple and went on with their discussion of who was wearing what, and what a very fashionable crowd had been invited, when the man came up to them.
The woman, colourfully dressed in a red-and-black gown and yellow silk shawl, stood back and gazed fixedly at the flowers which were arranged in urns around the foyer.
‘Miss Rayner, I think?’ He bowed, holding out his hand flamboyantly.
‘Yes!’ Sammi disregarded his hand. As far as she was aware, she didn’t know him. She couldn’t remember seeing him in church, but perhaps he had been sitting at the back.
‘I thought so. You can tell a Rayner anywhere with that lovely red hair.’
Sammi raised her eyebrows at the compliment, but it wasn’t well received. Pure flattery, she thought. Who is he to make such familiar compliments?
‘May I introduce myself, Miss Rayner? Charles Craddock. I’m a good friend of your brother Gilbert.’
Betsy giggled and put her hand to her mouth, and Sammi, trying not to laugh, raised her chin as she spoke. ‘Then your friendship is lacking in intimacy, sir, if you think that Gilbert is my brother, for he is not.’
Craddock’s mouth opened then closed, and he appeared so lost for words that Sammi, against her better judgement, took pity on him. ‘He is my cousin, therefore we share the same name – and the red hair.’
Craddock bowed again, recovering his composure instantly. ‘A thousand pardons, Miss Rayner. Gilbert has spoken of his sister, and I assumed – wrong to do so, of course, one should never—’ He turned to Betsy, who was watching with obvious amusement. ‘And another cousin, perhaps?’ His eyes paid court to her low-cut bodice. ‘Or – a friend? Gilbert is a lucky man indeed to know such lovely ladies.’
‘Second cousin,’ Betsy replied brightly. ‘Elizabeth Foster. We don’t bear the same name or the red hair as our kinsfolk.’ She glanced across at Craddock’s companion who was tapping her fan against her hand. ‘Your wife is getting impatient, Mr Craddock, she is feeling neglected. I think you are about to receive a rap on the knuckles.’
‘Not my wife,’ he replied with a cavalier attitude. ‘My, er, my companion for the occasion; may I introduce—’
‘We must look for Mama, Betsy,’ Sammi intercepted. ‘Perhaps some other time, Mr Craddock. Please excuse us.’
‘Sammi!’ Betsy murmured as they moved away. ‘I didn’t know you could be so disparaging. You are usually so polite.’
‘I was not impolite, Betsy,’ Sammi protested. ‘My manners were commendable, I’m sure, unlike his. What a fawning, grovelling toad.’ She shuddered. ‘He made me quite angry, pretending that he knew Gilbert so well. I’m sure that Gilbert wouldn’t entertain such company as his.’
Betsy turned her head towards Sammi. ‘We are merely country girls, Sammi,’ she laughed. ‘We know nothing of business life, when people of differing personalities are thrown together. Mr Craddock may well be a colleague of Gilbert’s. And he has been invited to the wedding!’ She inclined her head gracefully as Mr Craddock looked in their direction. ‘I wonder if he’s rich? His clothes are well cut and his watch chain is gold.’ She pulled an impish face and said shockingly, ‘And I rather think the lady with him is a—’ she whispered from behind her hand into Sammi’s ear.
‘Betsy!’ Sammi stared shocked and wide-eyed at her cousin. ‘How can you say such a thing? You don’t know. How do you know?’
Betsy laughed and adjusted her dress about her shoulders. ‘I just do, that’s all.’
They heard the sound of music and wandered back into the reception room. A pianist and a violinist were playing a medley of waltzes by Johann Strauss, and groups of people were sitting or standing and tapping their feet or fans in time to the music.
‘I don’t see Tom or Billy anywhere.’ Sammi glanced around the room. ‘Mama is here, and Aunt Mildred, and Mrs Billington, and here are Gilbert and Harriet just come back.’
‘Here they are.’ Betsy looked towards the door. ‘And just look at them. They’ve had a drop or two to drink!’
Not inebriated by any means, but certainly quite merry, Tom and Billy stood in the doorway with their arms around each other’s shoulders. ‘Hello, Sammi – Betsy. We’ve been looking at the choo-choo trains.’ Billy beamed at them as he and Tom weaved their way towards them, ‘But we got bored, so we sneaked off for a glass of ale.’
‘Or two,’ Betsy commented. ‘Now who is going to dance with us, for neither of you will be able to waltz without falling over.’
‘Not true, Betsy,’ Tom admonished her. ‘We are perfectly sober, we simply shared a jug of ale and our sorrows.’
‘Sorrows?’ Sammi and Betsy cried simultaneously. ‘What sorrows?’
Billy hung on to Tom’s arm. ‘Tom has told me – in confidence – of his feelings for a young lady and I—’
‘Ssh. That’s enoug
h.’ Tom put up a finger to silence him. ‘No more.’
‘Tom! Don’t tell me you have a secret passion?’ Betsy teased her brother. ‘Not you – old sober-sides!’ When Tom didn’t respond, she said cynically, ‘It doesn’t seem fair, does it, Sammi, that men can have grand passions but ladies cannot?’
Billy came to her and put his arm around her waist. ‘I am of the opinion, and I will discuss it with you, my dear cousin, when I am not under the influence of alcohol, but I am of the opinion that there are many discrepancies and injustices in our society which need to be swept away.’
‘A reformer, are you, Billy?’ she said a shade bitterly. ‘Then start with the women in society, for they are the ones who lose every time.’
‘No!’ Sammi protested. ‘Start with the children. They are the ones that we should look to first.’
‘I quite agree, Sammi,’ Billy said. ‘You took the very words out of my mouth. Excuse me.’ He staggered away. ‘I must go and sit down.’
‘You shouldn’t have let him drink so much, Tom,’ Betsy admonished. ‘Now he’ll go to sleep and miss the dancing.’
‘I didn’t!’ Tom complained. ‘We didn’t have much, but the Hull ale is strong.’
The dancing had started, and Betsy looked around the room wondering if anyone might ask her. She saw Charles Craddock looking her way and, catching his eye, she feathered her fan about her face.
‘Miss Foster. If you are not engaged, may I have this dance?’ He bowed towards her and Tom, who was standing next to her.
Tom started to say something, but Betsy took Craddock’s arm and allowed him to escort her to the floor.
‘Who’s he, Sammi?’ Tom frowned. ‘Have we met him?’
‘Yes,’ she answered flatly. ‘He introduced himself earlier.’ She felt strangely deflated, yet couldn’t reason why. ‘He thought I was Gilbert’s sister.’
Tom looked down at her. A wisp of hair had fallen about her face and he abstractedly smoothed it back from her cheek. ‘Why?’ he asked softly.
‘What?’ He was looking at her so strangely, as if he was preoccupied. She was bewildered by his mood, and caught up in a web of irrational confusion.
‘Why did he think you were Gilbert’s sister?’ He still gazed at her with his dark, dreamy eyes as if he was half-asleep.
‘Er – I don’t know.’ She looked away from him; she felt mesmerized, uncertainty flooding over her when her eyes met his. ‘The red hair, I think.’
He touched a ringlet that was coiled on her neck and she felt the brush of his fingers. ‘Oh, yes. Of course.’ He blinked and seemed to give himself a mental shake and wake up. ‘But still – I hope the fellow is all right.’
She had her doubts about Craddock, but her lips trembled unaccountably as she replied, ‘There you are again, Tom, constantly watching over her.’ Who is Tom harbouring a passion for? And why haven’t Betsy and I known of it? It must be someone in Holderness, but who?
‘Come on, you two. Tom! Invite Sammi to dance.’ Gilbert swung by with Harriet on his arm. ‘Come on, everyone must dance.’
‘I can’t, Sammi. I’m sorry. I don’t know how.’ Tom made his excuses.
‘I’ll show you, if you would like to,’ she said slowly. ‘It’s quite easy to waltz.’
Reluctantly he took her hand and led her to the floor and, with his hand on her waist and hers on his shoulder, she guided him around the floor; they swung in triple time, and as there were so many other couples dancing, it didn’t seem to matter if they missed a step or two.
‘That was lovely, Tom,’ she said as the music stopped. ‘You did very well.’
He raised her hand to his lips and thanked her, and was about to say something more, when there was the sound of a shrill voice which carried above all the others.
‘Hello, Billy, my old darling. Aren’t you going to talk to me?’
‘Billy?’ Sammi said in concern. ‘Who is talking to Billy like that?’
‘Not your Billy.’ Tom still held her hand and drew her towards him. He could see over the tops of heads, heads which were looking over to one side of the room. ‘Your Billy is still asleep in the chair.’
They walked to the side of the floor. Betsy was standing there with a look of merriment on her face. ‘It’s Mr Craddock’s friend,’ she whispered. ‘She’s three sheets to the wind; he’s gone to rescue her before she upsets the party. She’s found someone she knows.’ She nodded knowingly at Sammi. ‘Told you, didn’t I?’
The crowd parted and then reassembled as the music began again, and they saw Charles Craddock and his lady friend talking to Harriet’s father. Austin Billington, with a brief nod, moved away from them and came towards Sammi, Tom and Betsy, who were the nearest group of people who were not dancing.
‘Now, my friends,’ he said vigorously, ‘I haven’t yet had the chance to talk with you.’ His face was rather red and he glanced over his shoulder at Craddock and the woman, who appeared to be arguing.
‘Gilbert’s cousins if I remember correctly,’ he said, as he put out his hand to Tom. ‘How do you do, sir – Miss Rayner, Miss Foster.’ He bent forward conspiratorially and indicated over his shoulder. ‘I don’t know how those two came to be here.’ He pursed his mouth. ‘Not my sort at all.’
Gilbert joined them. ‘I’ve lost my wife already,’ he nodded towards the floor where Harriet was dancing with an elderly man. ‘Betsy, will you take pity on a fellow whose wife has gone off?’
‘Well, married men are not my style,’ she replied flippantly, ‘but as it’s you, Gilbert, I’ll make an exception.’
She took his arm and as they turned to the floor, Craddock’s lady friend appeared once more at Austin Billington’s side. Her face was blotched and her dress was awry.
‘Come on, Billy-boy, aren’t you going to have a dance with your little Letty?’ She crooked a finger under his chin. ‘I don’t usually have to do the asking, do I?’ She giggled. ‘You’re the one who generally asks me to dance.’ She lifted her skirts, showing her ankles and waved a foot provocatively.
‘Look here.’ Billington wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. ‘I don’t know who you are, madam. You’ve obviously confused me with someone else. Where’s the fellow who brought you?’ He looked wildly around for Craddock who was sitting in a chair with his pin-striped legs crossed, his jacket open showing his red braces, obviously enjoying his host’s discomfiture.
‘She’s only having a bit of fun, Billington, old chap!’ he called out. ‘She don’t mean any harm.’
‘Excuse me, Sammi.’ Tom stepped forward and bowed towards the woman. ‘Perhaps, ma-am, you would give me the honour of a dance?’ He took hold of her arm and led her away from Sammi and Billington. ‘Now be a good girl,’ he whispered in her ear, ‘and come with me, and if you don’t, then I shall have the manager of the hotel show you to the door.’
She gazed up at him with pencil-smudged blue eyes. ‘Ooh! You’re just ’sort of man I’ve been looking for,’ she hiccupped. ‘Somebody masterful and ’andsome. And rich.’
‘Then you don’t want me, Letty. You’d better stick to your Mr Craddock.’ He pushed her into a chair in the foyer. ‘Now stay there and don’t move.’
‘He’s not my Mr Craddock,’ she pouted. ‘He only brought me to make a stir. He’s like that. Nowt but a trouble-maker.’
Tom went back to the dance and sought out Billy, who was just stirring from sleep. ‘Hello, Tom. What are you doing here?’ He looked around. ‘Oh,’ he groaned. ‘Have I been asleep? Have I missed anything?’
‘Not a thing.’ Tom hauled him to his feet. ‘But I need you to help me out. Come on.’ They walked across the room to where Craddock was still sitting, swinging his legs and cradling a glass of wine. ‘Craddock!’ Tom greeted him like an old friend. He was much taller than Craddock and towered over him. He put out his right hand.
Craddock looked up. ‘Yes.’ He put down his glass and raised his hand. ‘Have we met? Forgive me if I don’t get up, old fellow.’
‘I say,’ he protested, but said no more as he was marched, with Tom holding one arm behind his back, and Billy close by his side holding his other elbow, towards the hotel exit.
‘Miss Letty wants to go home,’ Tom said. ‘See that she gets there and don’t come back. The party is over.’
21
The chimes of two longcase clocks in the hotel foyer, one in deep profundo, the other a pause behind in bell-like melody, were striking eleven. The guests ceased their chatter and gathered together their wraps and cloaks, their top hats and greatcoats, and prepared to leave. Gilbert and Harriet had already been waved off in their carriage, to spend the night in their house in Charlotte Street, before leaving the next day to spend a few days in Scarborough.
Ellen and Victoria and the York Rayners had left with Mildred for Anlaby, where they had been invited to stay the night, and although conversation between Ellen and Mildred was a little strained, it was decided that to refuse would appear churlish. Because there was insufficient room for them all, Sammi, Betsy and Tom were to spend the night at a small respectable hotel which had been booked for them, and Billy was returning to his lodgings.
Billy walked with them to their hotel, which was across the town near the Market Place, and they all smiled as Tom put his hand in the air to feel the quality of the breeze. ‘I hope Da and George have got finished milling,’ he said seriously. ‘There’s not been much of a breeze here today.’
‘Yes, it’s very sultry,’ Sammi agreed. ‘I think we’re in for a storm.’
