Lovers Meeting (22 page)

Josie smiled again, basking in his meagre approval, and said eagerly, ‘The money is in an account I opened at the bank.’ She had also opened another to save what she could from her small wage. ‘It may help towards reopening the yard.’ And when he stared at her, dumbfounded, she went on, ‘That is your objective, isn’t it?’

He laughed bitterly. ‘My dream, more like. Your profit’ – and he waved the book – ‘and my pay, if we saved them for a year they wouldn’t be enough to open the yard for a single day.’ He saw her mouth droop and said quickly, ‘But I meant what I said, you have managed remarkably.’ He put the book back in the desk, hesitated a moment then said, ‘I suggest we let this matter rest while we think it over.’

‘Very well,’ Josie agreed, though she decided she would not be going back on what she had done. So there would be another row at some time in the future. She looked at him across the space between and said, ‘If you will excuse me?’

‘Of course.’ Tom reached the door in two of his long strides and held it open, looking down on her, stiffly formal, as when he had ushered her in. Josie left the room as she had entered it, straight in the back and head held high – but her heart no longer in her mouth.

She paused a second in the doorway to look up at him. ‘And you will see I am now adequately chaperoned, Captain Collingwood, so there will be no need for you to seek lodgings; you can occupy your own room.’ Then she swept on, having had the last word.

In the kitchen, peering out along the passage through the half-open door, Annie whispered, ‘Did they have a row?’

Kitty Duggan, standing at her side, sniffed. ‘Aye. You can see that by the look o’ them. And this time they fought a draw so there’ll be another tussle or two.’ Then they backed into the kitchen and busied themselves there as Josie approached. Tom climbed the stairs, kitbag on his shoulder, heading for his room.

Josie looked around the kitchen brightly. ‘Is everything all right?’

Annie answered quickly, ‘Oh, aye.’ And Kitty nodded, glancing sidewise as she stood at the sink peeling potatoes.

Josie saw that Charlotte was playing happily with her doll, Amelia, and snatched her coat from its hook behind the door. ‘Then I’ll walk up to the shops for a few things.’ And she was gone, out of the back door and pulling on her coat.

Annie said, ‘She’s happy enough, then. It can’t have been much of a row.’

Kitty said grimly, ‘She’s not and I think it was. She’s gone for a good cry, I reckon.’

She was only partly right. Josie fought back the tears of misery and rage, misery because of Tom’s attack on her, rage because he had made her miserable. Rage may have won because the tears did not come. Instead she vowed to go on doing what she thought was right, and fight every inch of the way if she had to.

Tom unpacked his kitbag, quickly and methodically. Anger still simmered, but seamanlike he tried to take a commonsense view. He had not so much lost an argument as been given an explanation. And this Mrs Miller had only been right, it seemed, so far. He sat down on his bed and pulled off a sea boot. It was difficult to argue with her, but a pretty face did not mean she was invariably right. He had taken her on originally because she was there and her reference was good, but he could give her notice now. He shifted uneasily and told himself that finding a replacement would not be easy. And Charlotte was fond of Mrs Miller.

He pulled off the second boot and decided it would be better to extend Mrs Miller’s engagement and keep an eye on her. But if he wanted to do that he would have to leave the sea. He stopped there. Give up the sea? He could not imagine that. It had been his life for seventeen years. Take a shore job? If he did he would still not make enough money to open the yard again, would probably earn less than he did commanding a ship. He wanted to go to sea
and
keep Mrs Miller. He swore out of frustration and hurled the boot across the room to bang against the door.

The knock on the door came like an echo. He crossed to it on stockinged feet, yanked it open and barked, ‘Yes?’

Kitty Duggan stood there with a large mug of tea in one hand. ‘I thought you’d be ready for this.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Duggan.’ Tom reached out to take the tea.

‘You should remember me.’ Kitty craned her neck to peer up at him. ‘You’ve seen me off and on since I skelped your arse twenty years ago for puttin’ a football through my window.’

Tom’s ill temper faded. ‘I recall running a few errands for you.’ And afterwards there had been slices of cake, glasses of home-made ginger beer.

Kitty nodded, then turned it into a jerk of the head, gesturing at the stairs behind her. ‘She’s a good sort, that Mrs Miller. You won’t find anybody with a word to say against her.’ And when Tom guardedly said nothing, she went on, ‘You’ll have to find out for yourself. But one thing I’ll tell you: I’ve been off the drink since I came here to live. I just have the odd bottle o’ stout by the fire last thing, that’s all.’

Tom said politely, ‘Oh?’

The little woman eyed him. ‘I know what you’re thinking, but it’s true. I used to go on the bottle because I was so bloody miserable and on my own. I’ve got company here and I’m happier.’

Tom said sincerely, ‘I’m glad.’

Kitty reached up to pat his cheek. ‘I always thought you’d turn out a fine young feller and a credit to the auld man.’ Then, as she turned away, she glanced down at Tom’s feet in their socks with a toe poking through. ‘You always had holes in your stockings then an’ all. Let me have them later on and I’ll darn them.’

Tom drank the tea standing at his window and looking out over the square. A distant tugboat hooted on the river, reminding him of the sea. He decided he would have to give it up, a bitter decision – but he would think about it some more for a day or two.

So they entered on an uneasy truce. Tom and Josie ate their meals in the dining room, waited on by Annie or Kitty. Charlotte ate lunch and tea with them but went to bed before dinner. Tom would have spoilt her but Josie would not allow it. ‘No, thank you, Captain Collingwood,’ she ruled, as he tried surreptitiously to slide a slice of cake on to Charlotte’s plate as Josie poured tea. ‘Charlotte! Eat some bread and butter first – cake later.’ And because it was Mrs Miller, Charlotte obeyed.

Tom was out of the house for most of each day, investigating what opportunities there were for work ashore – and calling on Felicity at the Blakemore mansion in the country. Josie ran the Langley house and her staff of Annie, Kitty and Dan, while teaching Charlotte as well. At the end of a week Tom announced his decision that evening at dinner. They sat at the long table, Tom at its head, Josie an arm’s length away with Charlotte between, allowed to stay up because it was Saturday. As Kitty left the room after serving the main course, pulling the door to behind her, Tom said, ‘I’ve decided to take a shore job for a while.’

Josie smiled, but it quickly faded. ‘May I ask why, Captain?’

Tom met her gaze. ‘I think it would be better if I spent more time at home. My responsibilities lie here.’

Josie thought, Because he does not trust me; because of what he found when he returned from his last voyage. But she was aware of the child by her side and said only, ‘I see.’

He saw that she did and guessed that she was hurt and angry. He was not happy about it but thought he saw his duty clearly, and there was the child to remind him of it. ‘I must do what I think is right.’

Josie agreed. ‘Of course.’ It was his sense of honour again. He had given his word to old William Langley that he would care for Charlotte and he would keep it, no matter what happened. As he had given his word to marry Felicity Blakemore next October.

They went on with the meal in silence and ate little. Kitty, on the other side of the door with her ear clapped against the panel, listened to the silence then tiptoed away. But she went only as far as the foot of the stairs and sat there thinking. She stopped Annie later as the girl picked up the tray carrying the dessert. ‘I’ll do that,’ she said firmly, and took the tray from her.

In the dining room she found Tom and Josie sitting stiff and wordless over the half-eaten meal while Charlotte talked to Amelia, the doll propped on another chair. Kitty cleared the previous course and served the dessert. Then she asked primly, ‘Can I say a few words, ma’am – Captain?’

Josie looked up at her from wiping Charlotte’s mouth, then across at Tom. He said, curious, ‘I should think so. What is it?’

Kitty bobbed her head in thanks. ‘When my man was lost it got about that he’d done some bad business and not left me much.’ Kitty sniffed indignantly. ‘I let them think that because he always used to say, “Never flash your money in a bar.” By that he meant that if you shout about how much money you’ve got somebody will try to get it off you. So I kept quiet about what I had left. It was enough to buy me an annuity that would keep me in comfort. But then there was the
Macbeth
.’

‘
Macbeth
?’ Tom frowned, searching his memory. ‘Wasn’t she—’

‘Aye,’ Kitty nodded. ‘She was his first ship. Kitty Macbeth was my maiden name. She was old and he’d left her laid up in the Tyne for a year while he sailed the new ship. But I used to sail with him in the
Macbeth
. Good days they were …’ Her voice trailed away and she was silent a moment, remembering, then shook her head impatiently. ‘Anyway, there she lay, and there she lies still. Over the years nearly all my annuity has gone to pay her charges. I couldn’t bother to use her and I couldn’t bear to part with her.’

Tom said gruffly, ‘I can understand that.’

Josie reached out to squeeze the old woman’s hand, and said softly, ‘Thank you for telling us.’

Kitty blinked. ‘I haven’t finished yet. Y’see, I’ve been thinking that I’ve been a daft ould woman. Instead o’ me keeping up the ship all these years, she should ha’ been keeping me. So I was wondering’ – and now she looked at Tom – ‘would you like to go into partnership? I put up the ship and you skipper her? O’ course, she’s only good for the coastal trade, but properly handled she should make a profit.’

Tom thought that might be the case. And the voyages would be short and he would be home for a day or two every week or so.

He would not have to give up the sea.

He said slowly, ‘I thought I’d try for a berth in the coastal trade but there are skippers queuing up for that kind of work.’

‘You’ll do it, then?’ Kitty urged.

Tom nodded decisively. ‘That I will!’

Kitty clapped her hands with glee. ‘We’ll all profit.’

Tom questioned, ‘All?’

Kitty corrected herself quickly. ‘I mean the partners.’

‘I’m not too sure about the profit,’ said Tom drily, staring off into the distance, calculating. ‘We’ve got to make her fit for sea because I’m not sailing a coffin ship and that will cost money, though I can find it; the banks will lend it to me for that. Then we’ll have to find a crew, cargoes—’

Josie saw the change in him, from stubborn determination to eager optimism. She realised this was because he would still be going to sea. But not for long. He would not sail away for months or years. She turned quickly, a smile spreading, and caught a self-satisfied smirk on Kitty’s face, but it vanished before Josie’s stare.

Josie said, ‘That sounds like a good idea. Thank you, Kitty.’

Tom got up from the table. ‘It’s too late to look at the
Macbeth
tonight but I’ll go through to the Tyne tomorrow. Now, we’ll need a name to trade under. How about the Langley Shipping Company? Because I’m doing this for Charlotte and William.’

Kitty shrugged. ‘That’s fine wi’ me. Now all I want—’

But Tom was going on: ‘Tonight I’ll draft the terms of our partnership and when we’ve both agreed on it I’ll get a lawyer to write it up legally.’

Kitty protested, ‘There’s no need for that. Your word’s good enough for me.’

But Tom would not have that. ‘I knew your husband and I know he would want your rights protected properly. So we’ll have a legal agreement.’

Kitty gave in: ‘If that’s what you want. There’s only two things I ask.’ She was looking at Josie now.

Josie asked, ‘What are they?’

‘That we go on just as before, me in the kitchen working for you. Y’see,’ Kitty put in quickly as Josie opened her mouth to protest, ‘I’m happy like that, so I don’t want to change.’

Josie looked up at Tom because this was his house as Charlotte’s guardian. He nodded and Josie said, ‘All right, Kitty. Now, you said you wanted two things; what was the other?’

‘I want you to be a partner as well, because you got me out o’ the river
and
you’ve given me a new life here.’

Josie, after a moment’s dumbfounded silence, exclaimed, ‘Oh, no! You don’t owe me anything. I’m only too grateful for your help with the house.’

Tom first looked startled, then thoughtful. This woman as a business partner? A … governess? Housekeeper? He could see no point in it, but the ship belonged to Kitty Duggan and if she insisted …

And now Kitty said firmly, ‘That’s what I want. If the pair of you don’t agree to that, I’ll agree to nothing and the old
Macbeth
can rot at her moorings.’ And she started for the door.

Josie stopped her: ‘Wait! Please!’ She did not want this for herself, but she wanted it for Tom. ‘Very well. Thank you. I’m very grateful, but I warn you, I know little of ships or shipping.’

‘You’ll learn, I reckon.’ Kitty looked at Tom. ‘Well?’

He said, ‘You mean Mrs Miller will be a—’ He stumbled over his words, then went on: ‘Will not be taking an active part.’ He had almost said ‘sleeping partner’. Josie knew it and coloured, turned her back to them and fussed over lifting Charlotte down from her chair.

Kitty knew it, too, and grinned at him. ‘If you like. But you might want both of us to take an active part afore we’re finished.’ She paused at the door a moment longer to say – ominously again – ‘You’ve not seen the old
Macbeth
yet.’

16

‘My God!’ said Tom under his breath. ‘She’s filthy!’ The three partners of the Langley Shipping Company had come to inspect their vessel and stood on the quayside in Newcastle.

Josie heard him, looked quickly at Kitty Duggan, but the old woman had not caught the hushed comment, was gazing proudly out at the ship where she lay at her moorings in the Tyne. Josie looked up at Tom and said brightly, ‘She looks very nice.’