Lovers Meeting (21 page)

The old woman grumbled but yielded, and returned from the scullery wrapped in Josie’s nightdress and dressing gown. ‘Where’s that brandy?’

‘When we’ve had our supper,’ Josie told her, and ignored the muttered curses that ensued. The table was set and the meal served while Annie carried broth, cold meat and bread through to the seamen boarders. Josie gestured to Dan Elkington where he sat discreetly in a corner, ‘Bring your chair up, Mr Elkington.’ And she brought Kitty to the table. Both rescuer and rescued ate hungrily. Josie thought one must be as empty as the other, but while Dan was silent, Kitty was ready to talk.

‘I’m not goin’ back there,’ she declared again, as she passed up her plate for more broth.

Josie questioned, ‘Home?’

‘Home!’ Kitty snorted. ‘No home there. One room in Hedworth Street I had, damp and full o’ mice. But the landlord wants me out to do it up and put his woman friend in. He’s made my life a misery for months now. So tonight I went out for a drink or two.’ She looked up from her plate and found Josie’s eye on her. She said defiantly, ‘Well, I had a few gins to finish off after the stout. I shouldn’t ha’ gone near the river because the light’s very bad there. But I wasn’t going back to that room. I’d sooner go to the workhouse.’ This time she caught Dan Elkington’s eye. She stared at him for a moment, then said blandly, ‘What’s your place like?’

Dan hesitated, then realised they were all watching him. ‘Very nice.’

Kitty grinned at him. ‘Now tell the truth. You’re carrying a pack wi’ everything you’ve got. It’s a dosshouse or sleeping under a cart for you.’ She looked round at them. ‘He’s too proud to admit it.’

‘I’ll be off now.’ Dan shoved back his chair.

‘No, canny lad.’ This time it was Kitty who reached out to hold him. ‘There’s no shame in being down on your luck. Mine’s been out these ten years, since my man was lost at sea.’

Dan subsided into his seat again and Josie said softly, ‘I’m sorry.’ She could sympathise with Kitty, remembered her own grief when Bob Miller was drowned. That seemed now to have happened in another life.

Kitty waved a hand impatiently. ‘It was a merciful release for him. He’d been a sick man for years. He owned the ship he was in and I wanted him to sell up and come ashore but he wouldn’t have it. He kept on because he wanted to leave me wi’ plenty o’ money but I’d ha’ been content to have
him
. Then those last years he did some very bad business. When the ship went down her insurance just covered his debts.’ She still held Dan with one hand on his sleeve and now she shook him gently. ‘This is the one you want to worry about. I’ve had my time but he’s got a lot o’ years yet.’

Dan said, ‘I’ll be all right.’ He returned their stares, proudly.

Kitty said, ‘Show ’em your medals.’

‘Medals?’ Josie looked from one to the other.

‘Aye,’ said Kitty. ‘He was a soljer. Look at how he carries hissel.’

Josie saw from Dan’s face that this was so. He knew she saw it and said, ‘I served sixteen years in the Durhams, signed on when I was twenty. Then I stopped one in India, on the Frontier, that left me with this gammy leg. They turned me out after that. They gave me a pension but that doesn’t go far and there’s not much work for a feller wi’ only one good leg. I’d ha’ changed my name and signed on again, like many another man has done, but they wouldn’t take me wi’ the leg, o’ course.’ He detached Kitty’s hand from his sleeve and stood up. ‘Thank you for the supper, missus, but I’ll get away now.’

He left the table and picked up his pack. Josie had sat pensive but now she said, ‘Can you paint?’

Dan paused and repeated, ‘Paint?’

‘Paint a door or a window.’

‘Aye.’

‘Climb a ladder, sweep a yard – carry a sack of groceries?’

‘’Course I can. I—’

‘I’ll give you a job here. Live in. Ten shillings a week and your keep. What about it?’ She was careful to speak briskly as between equals, without patronising or any suggestion of charity. She knew he would recoil from either.

Even so, he looked at her sharply, searching for signs of them. But then he slowly relaxed and at last he grinned. ‘That’ll do me fine.’

‘Come on and I’ll find you a room.’ She turned, saw Charlotte asleep in an armchair and laughed. Then she took Kitty’s arm: ‘I think you’ll be another one the better for a night’s sleep.’ She helped the old woman up from her chair, but then Kitty put away her hands. ‘I can manage.’ She and Dan followed Josie, who led the way with Charlotte in her arms.

There were still attic rooms to spare at the top of the house and Dan was settled in one, Kitty in another. Annie came running up the stairs with a hot shelf from the oven to shove into the old woman’s bed. With Kitty tucked in, Josie sat on the edge of the bed, cradling the sleeping Charlotte. She said, ‘I could do with another woman to help me here. You see, this is a lodging—’

Kitty broke in, ‘I know. I heard about you taking in that lass and them sailors. Folks talk.’

Josie explained, ‘It’s a big house—’

Kitty cut her off again: ‘I know that an’ all, knew this house afore you were born, lassie. Knew Will Langley and I cried when I heard he’d died. After my man was lost, if Will found me when I’d had a drop too much, he’d always see me home.’ She wiped at her eyes. ‘And I know that Tom Collingwood, knew him from when he was just a bairn and Will took him in.’

Josie didn’t like the sound of the ‘drop too much’. It suggested tonight’s drunken escapade had not been the first, as Kitty had suggested. But could she send the old woman away, or to the workhouse? She had been a friend of old William, that seemed like the truth. Josie said, ‘What I’m getting at is that I could give you a job and a room here, just as I have Dan.’

Kitty peered up at her. ‘You would?’ And when Josie nodded the tears rolled down the old woman’s cheeks. She turned away abruptly to hide her face. ‘I owe you something for what you did tonight, so I’ll help you out. Now get away and let me sleep.’

‘Goodnight.’ Josie grinned and left her.

She was startled next morning to see Kitty descending the stairs, albeit stiffly and with a hand to her brow. Josie folded the letter she had just finished reading and was still smiling. ‘Good morning. How are you?’

Kitty grumbled, ‘Me head aches. It must ha’ been the way you and that soljer manhandled me.’

Josie thought the true cause might lie in something Kitty had drunk, but only said, ‘Come and have breakfast.’

The old woman followed her to the kitchen. As they passed the side passage leading to the house next door, Kitty said, ‘What will Tom Collingwood think about you turning this place into a lodgin’ house? Some of them has a very queer reputation and he worshipped old Will.
And
you’ve got Will’s granddaughter here.’

Josie knew what Kitty meant by ‘reputation’; there were lodging houses which were little more than brothels. She replied, with relief because of the assurance of Tom’s letter in her hand, but also, surprising herself, with more than a tinge of regret: ‘Captain Collingwood is not here.’

Kitty said ominously, ‘He will be – one day.’

15

November 1908

‘Have you gone mad, woman?’ Tom Collingwood stood in the hall, a towering, black-browed, wrathful figure. His kitbag lay at his sea-booted feet, his cap was gripped tight in one big hand.

Josie had just come out of the kitchen into the passage leading to the hall. She stared at him, trying to collect her wits, and gave thanks that she wore a clean, white blouse and long, dark skirt, and had stripped off her apron before leaving the kitchen. Only three days had passed since she had told Kitty confidently, ‘Captain Collingwood isn’t here.’ He was now, come like a sudden storm.

She said, ‘I had a letter from you, written in Spain.’

Tom answered deliberately, ‘I posted it the day before I learned we had a homeward-bound cargo.’

‘I see. I wasn’t expecting you.’

‘I wasn’t expecting to find
this
!’ Tom pointed along the hall to the side passage leading to the boarders’ quarters. That was their only entrance to the house next door. ‘I saw three or four men duck into there just a second or two ago. This … lady’ – he gestured with his cap towards Annie, pressed back against the wall, blue eyes wide and hands to her face – ‘who admitted me, tells me they are sailors lodging here.’

Josie swallowed but walked on into the hall to confront him. ‘That is correct.’

Annie sidled along the wall, seeking to hide behind Josie. Tom’s gaze switched to her again and he started, ‘And—’

Josie grasped the nettle. ‘This is Annie. She had to leave home because she was in trouble, but she is a good girl really and a great help to me.’ Tom stared at her, incredulous. Then Josie heard the kitchen door open behind her and she turned her head and saw Kitty Duggan. Josie sought to introduce her: ‘And this is—’

Tom broke in: ‘Kitty Duggan. Yes, I know all about Kitty. Do I understand that she is also a member of this household now?’

‘She is, and—’ But Josie stopped as Tom swung away, found his kitbag at his feet and kicked it aside to slide across the floor, which had been polished by Josie on her knees, and slam into the wall. He yanked open the door of the office, gestured with his cap and said in a low voice that rumbled deep in his chest like distant thunder, ‘Perhaps we can discuss this in private.’

Josie plucked up the front of her skirt with one hand and walked past him into the office with her head held high. From the corner of her eye she glimpsed Annie scuttling away down the passage to the kitchen. She expected Tom to slam the door but he did not. She turned in front of the fire in time to see him shut it firmly but quietly. He pointed to the chair at the fireside, wordlessly, and Josie took it. Then he stood before the desk, half the room between them. Josie had to tilt back her head to look up at him. His frame filled the window, blocking out the light. She could have wept.

He asked, ‘Well?’

Josie faced him across that desert and echoed, ‘Well?’

‘I take it you have an explanation for the presence of these people?’

‘I have.’ Josie was miserable but hid it and replied coolly, ‘You wish to hear it – without interruption?’

‘I do.’

‘Very well. This is a big house, an expensive house to run—’

Tom broke in, pointing a finger. ‘I left you an authority to draw funds.’

Josie snapped, ‘You also said you would not interrupt. Yes, you left funds and they were ample to keep myself and the child and for that I thank you. But I repeat, this is a big house, and it takes a great deal of work just to keep it clean. But you may also have noticed that the exterior needs painting. Doubtless if Mr Langley and his son had lived the matter would have been taken in hand, but as it is the work still needs to be done. That takes money. So I took in Annie and Kitty to help me with the work, the seamen because what they pay me for lodgings will more than cover the cost of keeping this house in a fit condition and show some profit besides. I also took in a man who had been a soldier to help with the heavy work about the place. There is your explanation.’

Tom scowled down at her. ‘Why this pregnant girl? There are plenty of honest women who would work here.’

‘She
is
an honest woman!’ Josie glared at him. ‘But she was betrayed by a scoundrel. And when I took her in it was because we were both lonely and frightened. You will remember there was just the child and myself in this house.’

Tom was silent a moment, then said, ‘I see. And Kitty? What about her? Are you aware she staggers home, drunk, from some public house every night?’

‘I helped to pull her out of the river when she fell in one dark night. She was homeless, would not go back to the room she had and I could not put her out on the street. Could you?’

Tom took a turn across the room and back, long, fast strides, brooding. He stopped and addressed Josie again: ‘The sailors; I have been one myself and I know that mostly they are more sinned against than sinning, but they are rough-and-ready men in a rough-and-ready profession. They are not innocents. They have their faults, drink for instance—’

Now Josie butted in: ‘And bad language. I do not permit it in my hearing. The drinking I do not allow at all. A drunken man will not cross the threshold and I established that rule at the beginning.’

Tom blinked at her. ‘You did? How?’

‘I suggest you ask one of them. Dougie Bickerstaffe will give you a true account, though I admit he is prejudiced in my favour.’

Tom prowled across the room and back again like a caged tiger. ‘You seem to have an answer for everything, but I am not happy with this state of affairs. William Langley left this house and the child in my care. He also left his reputation and I think I have failed him in all three.’ He stopped to glower out of the window. ‘He would turn in his grave if he saw how this house – his house – was being used.’

Josie said, ‘I don’t think he would.’

Tom glanced over his shoulder. ‘You did not know him.’

Josie had thought she had known her grandfather but in recent weeks she had changed her mind. She replied, ‘I have come to know him by reputation. I know he often helped Kitty home. I know he took you in—’ She stopped there, and quickly apologised. ‘I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.’

Tom had spun around on his heel to face her, angry. But then he nodded. ‘Yes, it was. He was a hard man with high standards but he would help anybody in need – if he thought they deserved it. He let the thieves and the lazy go to hell.’ He was still for long seconds while he stared down at Josie. Finally he said slowly, and as if surprised by the discovery, ‘I think – possibly – he would approve of what you did.’

Josie let out a silent sigh of relief and smiled at him. ‘Thank you.’ She rose to go and then remembered. ‘I have been using the desk while you were away. You will find a small account book in there. It shows a record of my dealings and you will see I used little of the money you left me and made a profit.’

Tom turned to the desk, found the book and opened it. He scanned the figures inside then looked across at Josie and said, grudgingly impressed, ‘You’ve done very well.’