by Valerie Wood
‘Yes, sir. I am.’ She sat down as invited and accepted a cup of coffee. ‘I didn’t know you existed,’ she said. ‘Mama never spoke of you. I assumed you were dead.’
‘And had you known otherwise, perhaps you would have come to me instead of running away to London?’
‘I went first to Nottingham to see my mother and ask her to come home,’ she explained. ‘And when she wouldn’t I decided to go to London to find my brother. Only Simon didn’t want me there. He was too preoccupied with his own life to be bothered about mine.’
‘You poor child,’ her grandfather murmured. ‘So then what did you do? You were alone, I understand. Not a desirable situation for a young lady such as you.’
‘I was frightened to begin with,’ she admitted. ‘It was totally unlike anything I had ever known.’ She then found herself telling the story of Marie who had taken pity on her and suggested that she tried for work in the mourning shop. ‘The notion of looking for work was perfectly natural to her. In her life that was what everyone did. And it was the same with the Bertrams. Work was the only thing that kept them from starvation or the workhouse door.’
‘So you have learned something?’ her grandfather said. ‘It wasn’t a wasted experience?’
‘Oh, not at all,’ she said. ‘But the greatest thing for me was that I met someone who was to become my closest friend, and eventually saw me safely home.’
‘I should like to meet this saviour,’ he smiled. ‘How did she help? With money for the train journey or as a companion?’
‘Why no,’ Eleanor said. ‘You don’t understand. We walked. We had no money for any other transport. And it was not a female, but Mikey Quinn, my greatest friend, who was once in prison for stealing a pair of rabbits.’
She felt her grandfather’s eyes searching hers. ‘You travelled alone with this Michael Quinn? With no other female companion?’
She shook her head. ‘Mikey,’ she corrected. ‘And Sam. Sam’s an orphan. His brother lives with a parson and his wife. They run a school for poor boys and give them a hot meal once a day, and they also set up soup kitchens for the poor of the district.’
‘Indeed! That is most commendable.’
‘Grandfather,’ she said. ‘About the house.’
‘Ah!’ Mr Carlton smiled. ‘I wondered when we might get round to the house. You have heard that I am going to try to get it back?’ When she nodded, he murmured, ‘I would never sleep easy again if I thought that your father was going to keep it for himself.’
‘He said it’s the law,’ Eleanor said quietly.
‘And so it is,’ he replied brusquely, ‘and it is time the law was changed! How preposterous that a woman should have to give up everything once she is married. And I suppose …’ He lowered his voice, for it had risen rather and other people in the dining room were looking their way. ‘I suppose your father has sent you here to plead on his behalf? Now that you have come home he has to give you a roof over your head, that kind of thing? Well, you don’t have to worry about that, my dear. I will provide for you if your father can’t.’
Eleanor swallowed hard. ‘Well no,’ she said. ‘That wasn’t what I was going to say. And besides, Father doesn’t know I’m here. Mary told me where you were staying.’
He frowned. ‘Mary? Who is Mary?’
‘Father’s servant, or I suppose she’s housekeeper now.’
‘So why then have you come, my dear, if it isn’t about the house? Curious, were you, to meet your grandfather?’
‘It is about the house,’ she said. ‘I want it.’
After leaving Mrs Turner, Mikey took Sam on a tour of Hull. He showed him the first dock, now renamed Queen’s Dock after Victoria’s visit, and explained the ring of docks which ran through the town and out into the Humber.
‘Seems there might be work here,’ Sam said. ‘Shall we try now?’
‘No time like ’present,’ Mikey said. ‘But I’ll finish showing you ’main areas and then we’ll have a plan of campaign. Thing is, though, Sam, I’ve been thinking that I don’t want to spend my life doing menial jobs. I need an education to improve myself.’
‘Yeh,’ Sam agreed. ‘I keep thinking about William. The Goodharts have taught him to read and write and now he’s getting an even better education cos of the sponsor and he’s younger than me. I know nothing,’ he added glumly. ‘Only what I’ve picked up from folks I know. Eleanor promised she’d teach me to read, but then she decided to come home.’
‘I’m sure she still will,’ Mikey said. ‘Just as soon as she’s settled. But I gather there’s some problem over her father.’ He thought for a minute, and then said, ‘I’ve got an idea. Come on. There’s somewhere I want to go. If it’s still there, that is. It was when I left Hull five years ago, onny I was too young then to tek advantage. But now I’m not.’
‘What?’ Sam asked. ‘Where?’
‘Mechanics’ Institute,’ he said. ‘It’s there to give ordinary folks a chance of education or train them for an apprenticeship.’
‘Don’t we have to have a job first?’ Sam asked, scurrying to keep up with Mikey’s urgent steps.
‘That’s what we’ve to find out,’ Mikey said. ‘Come on, it’s not far.’
They left the dock behind them and set off along George Street, turning the corner into Grimston Street.
‘It’s still here,’ Mikey said triumphantly. ‘Let’s go in and see what they can do for us.’
They came out half an hour later, Mikey much more subdued than when he went in. It seemed he had to prove his worth before he would be accepted as a scholar, although the reading room was open to him if he wanted to browse through the books there. That’s no good, he thought. I’m not a good reader.
‘We’ll have to find work,’ he said to Sam. ‘So back to ’docks we go. At least we can say we have experience even if we can’t provide references. And if we find work then we can pay rent for a room. We can’t expect to stay with Ellie for too long.’
They went back to the dock and into the office. Mikey introduced himself as Mikey Quinn, formerly of Hull and lately of London, with his workmate Sam Hodges. ‘We work as a team,’ he said. ‘Experienced in handling fragile or heavy goods at Wapping wharves.’
The clerk at the desk looked at him and then at Sam. ‘There might be some work for you,’ he said. ‘There’s a shipment of goods arriving tomorrow and ’merchant requires experienced men.’ He wrote the name and address on a slip of paper and pushed it towards Mikey. ‘If you go now it’ll show you’re keen. Best I can do.’
Mikey thanked him. ‘Come on, Sam,’ he said as they left the office. ‘I think this might be our lucky day.’
* * *
They arrived back in High Street just after midday, and walking in front of them towards Eleanor’s house was Eleanor herself, her arm tucked into that of an elderly, very upright gentleman. They watched them turn into the side gate and, after a moment, followed them through and into the lobby.
Eleanor turned from the kitchen door. ‘Oh, Mikey! I’m so pleased to see you. I have things to tell you.’
He grinned and took off his cap. ‘We’ve things to tell you as well.’ He was almost bursting to share the news. ‘We’ve got jobs, both of us! There’s a ship coming in from Holland tomorrow and we’ll be unloading ’cargo.’
‘Dutch gin then, I’ll be bound?’ Eleanor’s companion asked.
‘This is my grandfather, James Carlton,’ Eleanor said. ‘Grandfather, I’d like you to meet Mikey Quinn and Sam Hodges.’
‘How do, sir?’ Mikey said, and Sam nodded and took off his cap. ‘I can’t say what ’goods are, sir. It’s company policy not to discuss them and we’ve just signed ’agreement.’
Eleanor’s grandfather looked startled for a moment and then he said, ‘Quite right. I beg your pardon. I shouldn’t have asked.’
They all trooped into the kitchen, where Mary had cooked another huge pot of beef stew. She apologized for producing the same meal as yesterday, saying, ‘I�
��m trying to economize as much as possible.’
‘It smells delicious, Mary,’ Eleanor said. ‘But where’s my father? Is he upstairs?’
Mary looked troubled. ‘He’s unwell, Miss Eleanor, and I took ’liberty of sending for ’doctor, who’s with him now. Your father knocked on my door during ’night to say he wasn’t well, but begged me not to tell you.’
Eleanor bit her lip. ‘Should I go up, do you think?’
Her grandfather broke in. ‘I think you should wait until the doctor comes down and then perhaps speak to him. He will tell you if there is anything amiss. I must say your father wasn’t a good colour when I last saw him.’
‘He has taken such a blow,’ Eleanor murmured. ‘He has lost his good name.’
Her grandfather raised his eyebrows and assumed a cynical expression but refrained from expressing an opinion. Eleanor saw it, but was unwilling to discuss or defend her father in front of Mary, or even Mikey and Sam.
‘You are a remarkable young woman,’ her grandfather said softly. ‘Compassionate and kind.’
She looked up at him. ‘He is my father,’ she said simply.
Whilst Mary dished up bowls of stew for Mikey and Sam, Eleanor took her grandfather upstairs to sit in her father’s study. She could tell that he was not comfortable in the kitchen and he said he did not want to eat as he had had such a late breakfast.
As they came up into the hall, the doctor was coming down the stairs. ‘Miss Kendall,’ he said. ‘How relieved I am to see you safely home again.’ He paused and looked gravely at her. ‘However, I need to speak to you on the matter of your father’s condition.’
She led the way into her father’s study. ‘First I should like to introduce you to my grandfather, James Carlton,’ she said. ‘Grandfather, this is Dr Robson.’
The two men shook hands, and Dr Robson declared, ‘I wasn’t aware that you had grandparents, Miss Kendall, but I am very pleased to know that you have. As one so young, you are going to need the counsel and support of another member of your family.’
Eleanor opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.
‘What exactly do you mean, Dr Robson?’ her grandfather said. ‘Is my son-in-law very ill?’
Dr Robson glanced at Eleanor. ‘I have known you since you were a small child, Miss Kendall,’ he said quietly. ‘And you have always struck me as steadfast and resilient. You will need all your strength and fortitude now when I tell you that your father is gravely ill and unlikely to recover.’
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Eleanor trembled. She couldn’t believe what the doctor was saying.
‘Surely,’ she said, ‘with rest and recuperation he will—’
‘No.’ The doctor was grave. ‘His heart is damaged and his general condition is poor. He has not looked after his health as he should. I will call again,’ he said, ‘but be prepared.’
I never imagined, Eleanor thought as she walked up the stairs to see her father, that my time working in the mourning emporium was preparing me for this.
Her father was sitting up in bed propped up with pillows. ‘Now, Eleanor,’ he said as her face crumpled. ‘Don’t give in to tears. You can weep later if you must, but not whilst I am still here.’
She took his hand. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Her voice trembled, but she did her best not to cry.
He squeezed her hand. ‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘You were always a brave girl, Eleanor. I haven’t been a good father. I was brought up by strict parents, and I’m afraid I followed suit, and I’m sorry. I’m especially sorry that on one occasion I was very harsh to you.’
She nodded. ‘The cupboard,’ she whispered, the dark memory rushing back to her.
‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘I often thought of it whilst I was locked up awaiting trial, and I realized how frightened you must have been. I deserved my punishment for what I did to you. You did not. I know now that when you spoke to Simon you did so out of tenderness, not disobedience.’
Tears trickled down her cheek. ‘We won’t speak of it again, Papa,’ she said in a choked voice.
‘But there have been other occasions,’ he continued, ‘when I have not behaved as a gentleman should; of those unspeakable things I will not tell, but I wanted to ask that if you should hear of them from others when I am gone, you will try to forgive me and think of me as a weak and unhappy man rather than a wicked one. Wipe your eyes,’ he said gently, ‘and ask your grandfather if he will come up. I don’t know how much time I have left and there are arrangements to make for your welfare. I have made my will in your favour, but might I request that in any future plans you would consider Mary? She has been a great help and strength to me in these last few months and has not even asked for her salary.’
Her grandfather was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and went up immediately, whilst Eleanor stumbled down the basement steps into the kitchen. Mary was standing by the stove and pressed her lips tightly together when she saw Eleanor. She fears the worst, Eleanor thought. She was expecting this. Mikey rose from the table when he saw her tears and came towards her.
‘Mikey,’ she said, her resolve not to cry crumbling. ‘Will you stay with me?’
He put out his arms and drew her towards him. ‘Of course I will,’ he said softly. ‘I won’t ever leave you.’
‘Carlton! For God’s sake, we must put our differences aside,’ Edgar Kendall implored when James Carlton came into his bedroom. ‘I beg you to look after Eleanor. She will have no one else in the world to look out for her.’
‘She didn’t know I existed until yesterday,’ Carlton barked. ‘How could you not have spoken of me? Although I blame Rosamund as much as you,’ he added. ‘I consider that you have both acted irresponsibly. I could have given Simon and Eleanor so much, in affection as much as material things. You don’t realize how lonely I have been since my wife died. Contact with my grandchildren would have eased that pain.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Kendall said. ‘I’ve made many mistakes and now it is almost too late to rectify them.’
‘Well, not too late for Eleanor,’ the older man said. ‘She is a charming, lovely young woman and it will give me much happiness to be her guardian until such time as – have you met this young fellow she travelled with?’
‘Yes,’ Kendall said in a tired voice. ‘God knows what might have happened to her but for him. He seems a dependable sort. Looked after her, anyway. Not of good family, unfortunately, and no likely prospects—’
‘He’s been in prison, did you know that?’ his father-in-law butted in. ‘Seems he was convicted of stealing rabbits when he was just a youngster. Deplorable,’ he said gruffly. ‘Deplorable that a child should have to resort to stealing in order to eat.’
Eleanor’s father took a breath. ‘Quinn!’ he gasped. ‘Of course! That’s who he is! How everything turns full circle. It is one more injustice I have perpetrated,’ he muttered. ‘You must help him, Carlton. Do what you can for him. There won’t be a great deal of money, but—’
‘Hah!’ James Carlton was blunt. ‘I think he’s perfectly able to take care of himself, as is Eleanor. But yes, I will do what I can. Just one more thing, for I can see that you are tiring. I shall drop my claim to the house on condition that you leave it to Eleanor.’
‘It is done,’ Kendall murmured wearily. ‘Already in place.’
‘Because I don’t know if she has told you,’ the older man continued, ‘but Eleanor has ideas of her own, and they include Mikey Quinn.’
‘I must go home,’ Eleanor’s grandfather said when he came back downstairs. ‘I have business to attend to, but I shall return as soon as I can and stay as long as need be.’ He smiled at her. ‘No need to ask if you can manage without me, as you plainly can.’
‘Please don’t worry about me,’ Eleanor said. ‘I shall spend my time with Papa; and Mikey and Sam will be here, and Mary of course. But I shall be very pleased to see you back again.’
‘I’ve aired ’beds in ’attic for Mikey and Sam,’ Mary said
after Eleanor’s grandfather had gone. ‘I sleep in Nanny’s old room now, the one next to yours. It seemed pointless going all ’way up to ’top floor.’
‘Oh, but you must light a fire,’ Eleanor said. ‘The attic room is so cold. And put extra blankets on the beds,’ she added.
Sam laughed. ‘You forgetting already, Miss Eleanor?’ he said. ‘We had only one blanket on the journey here, and only one at our lodgings.’
‘I haven’t forgotten,’ she said. ‘But you have forgotten that there is no need to call me Miss!’
He looked embarrassed. ‘It don’t seem right,’ he said. ‘Not here.’
She shrugged and smiled. ‘Well, whatever you are comfortable with, Sam.’
The following morning, Mikey and Sam were off early to work. Mary brought a tray of tea and toast to Eleanor’s bedroom.
‘Mary,’ Eleanor said, ‘I know that this was expected in the old days, but it must be the last time. I need to rise early and plan my day.’
She told Mary what she had been doing in London and Mary was astonished. ‘But there’s no reason to do anything like that now you are home, Miss Eleanor,’ she said. ‘You don’t need to work. We shall be able to manage.’
‘But I don’t want to waste my life doing nothing,’ Eleanor said. ‘I want to make a difference. First, though, my priority is my father. He must be made to feel loved, for I don’t think he has ever felt that. And I want to make his final days as happy as I can.’
She spent the day with her father and told him all that had happened to her and how she had met up with Mikey again. ‘He remembered me,’ she said, ‘and he has been such a good friend.’
‘I realize that he has,’ her father said. ‘But don’t rush into any relationship. You are still very young. Be advised by your grandfather; he has your welfare at heart.’
‘I know that he does, but I have ideas of my own. Papa,’ she said softly, ‘should I write to Mama? I’m sure Aunt Maud will have a contact address.’
He sighed deeply. ‘Later,’ he said. ‘There’s no immediate hurry.’ He gave a brief smile. ‘She will be able to marry again if she has a mind to and if her gentleman asks her. And if he does not, then perhaps you might like to ask her to come back and live with you?’
