Children of the Tide (46 page)

Gilbert was uneasy. He didn’t know how to speak to these women; he felt, too, that they didn’t really trust him, not in the way they had trusted his father, who, he suspected, they regarded as their guardian while their husbands, brothers or sons were sailing in his ships.

‘What seems to be the problem?’ he asked heartily, rubbing his hands together as he spoke. ‘You know as well as I, that a whaler can be overdue for all kinds of reasons.’ As he spoke the words he realized that
he had spoken unwisely. At the word
overdue
, the women looked at each other anxiously and muttered uneasily.

‘Mr Rayner is not saying that the ships
are
overdue,’ Hardwick broke in. ‘They are not expected back just yet, as you well know. There is no need to start worrying unnecessarily. I have a cousin on
Polar Star Two
, it’s a fine ship – as is the
Arctic Star
. Our company has a good record.’

A woman stepped forward. She was almost as tall as Gilbert, and twice as broad, and he stepped back as she waved a finger towards him and Hardwick.

‘We know that tha’s a company man, Hardwick, and well paid for thine efforts I don’t doubt. But we’re not complaining about ’ships being overdue, we’re here because ’ships haven’t been seen in weeks and ’reason is because there wasn’t a Rayner there to see
Polar Star Two
off on her voyage.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Gilbert began, but was silenced by the woman who raised her voice at him.

‘Can I remind you, Mr Rayner,
sir
, that ’custom was started by thine own grandfayther who sailed in ’company ships.’ She had a sneer in her voice as she implied that Gilbert did not. ‘
He
knew how it felt to sail from these shores, and he was allus there.’

‘My father was ill and I was at his bedside! Don’t you understand? I couldn’t be there. A message was sent.’

Was it sent?
he asked himself.
I asked Billy, I think, but I can’t remember signing anything. And if anything should have happened to the ship I shall be blamed. Oh, what superstitious nonsense!
But he knew deep down that it wasn’t nonsense. If the men on board had been uneasy about the omission, it could quite easily affect their attitude during the whole voyage; they could become depressed and pessimistic and filled with foreboding.

‘I was there for the
Arctic Star
,’ he declared. ‘How do you account for that not being seen?’ Again he
made a mistake. He was being negative. He should be bolstering up the confidence of these women instead of arguing with them.

‘’
Arctic Star
was last seen in Melville Bay. She could be trapped in ’ice and we all know what that means, and we must bide our time and wait, but ’
Star Two
—’

The woman’s mouth trembled and her eyes filled with angry tears. ‘
Polar Star Two
was ill-fated, ’cos of thee. Thy fayther would have forgiven thee for not being with him. She’ll not come back. Our men’ll not come back. Tha’ll have to live wi’ that on thy conscience. I hope tha sleeps easy in thy bed at night.’ She turned away from him and marched off, her clogs clattering on the cobbles and dragging two small boys by the hand. Then she stopped and turned back. ‘Tha’ll have no more of my lads, Mr Rayner, sir. I’ll not let them work for thy company again. We’re finished with thee.’

Gilbert stared after her. This mustn’t get out. A company could be finished if the men refused to work the ships. He turned back to the other women who were standing silently. ‘Please don’t worry,’ he said in his most appealing manner. ‘Our ships are the very best; efficient, well run, built to the highest standards which we consider our men deserve.’

One or two of the younger women caught his eye as he appealed to them, smiled at him and nodded, but some of the older ones turned away, muttering, and as he finished speaking, the crowd dissolved and broke up, leaving Gilbert and Hardwick standing alone.

‘It’s a bad business, sir.’ Hardwick rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Very bad.’

‘You surely don’t believe all of that nonsense, Hardwick? Not a man like you!’

Hardwick avoided his employer’s eye. ‘You mustn’t forget, sir, that I’m from a long line of seamen: whaling men, harpooners, ship’s carpenters, and even
though I’ve never been to sea as they did, ’sea is in my blood and I understand their ways.’ He turned then to Gilbert and looked at him in the face. ‘One of my cousins was on ’
Polar Star Two
. I was at ’dock side that morning when she sailed. He wasn’t happy and neither were ’other men. Our family have lost two of their men in ’Arctic, sailing in Masterson-Rayner ships. I wouldn’t like to think that he’ll be ’third.’

Hardwick hurried back to the office alone, leaving Gilbert to walk back slowly, pondering over the morning’s events and not really wanting to return to the uneasy atmosphere which he knew would be simmering, both in the office and the yard, when there was a possibility that a ship might be lost.

He glanced up as a running figure approached him. ‘Billy! Where have you been?’ Gilbert stared at Billy’s dishevelled appearance. He was unshaven, his hair was uncombed and his clothes looked as if they had been slept in. ‘Why are you not at the firm?’ he demanded. ‘You’re needed. We have a crisis on our hands.’

‘A crisis?’ It was Billy’s turn to stare. ‘Has something happened?’

Gilbert told of the women at the dock side. ‘Did you send that message, Billy? I particularly asked you to.’

‘Yes.’ Billy’s reply was equally terse. ‘I did. And I signed your name as you were not there.’

Gilbert’s relief was short-lived as Billy continued, ‘But it wasn’t your message, was it? It was mine, even though I signed your name. Therefore it doesn’t count.’

‘Doesn’t count! What do you mean?
You
surely don’t believe …?’

Billy shook his head and wearily put his hand up to his eyes. ‘I don’t know what I believe – but – you can’t trick Fate!’

‘But you’re a Rayner,’ Gilbert stuttered, beginning
to half believe the irrational notion. ‘Doesn’t that count for something?’

‘I don’t know, Gilbert, and I’m far too tired to work it out. I must go. I, too, have a crisis on my hands.’

‘But – where are you going? Why are you not at the firm? And why do you look such a mess, as if you have been up all night?’

‘I look a mess because I
have
been up all night. I’ve been at the cellars with the children, they’re very sick and—’

‘For God’s sake, Billy!’ Gilbert broke in angrily. ‘I’ve just told you there’s an emergency. You’re needed back at the company. Now get yourself cleaned up and back at your desk!’

Billy exhaled a deep breath. ‘I’m wasting time here, Gilbert. I’m about to call on the doctor and bring him out again. There are a dozen children in those cellars with cholera. Doctor Sheppard and I have been with them all night, fetching clean water, giving them saline fluid and opium. He came back for an hour’s rest, but now two more are ill.’

Gilbert stared in horror. ‘Cholera! But you might catch it! Don’t go back. You’re not a medical man. What can you do?’

‘The children know me, they trust me,’ Billy said patiently. ‘I have to go back. It’s true I can’t do much, but just being there seems to be enough for some of them. And – and I’m not coming back.’

‘Not coming back? What do you mean?’ He was starting to panic. He was relying on Billy to placate the men if there was a dispute, especially now that Hardwick seemed to be opposing him. ‘You have work to do. Important work,’ he insisted. ‘One day you will be a director of our company. Now, I gave you yesterday off to see Pearson, and I suppose you’d better take the rest of today as well. There’s no point in coming in looking as you do, but tomorrow—’

Billy sighed. ‘You’re not listening to me, Gilbert. I’m not coming back. If we don’t get this epidemic
under control, then it could spread throughout the town. Oh, you do right to look alarmed,’ he added as dismay showed on Gilbert’s face. ‘Cholera is no respecter of status, but I doubt if you, or I for that matter, will get it. But the people who live in damp alleys or holes in the ground like the children do, are very vulnerable.’ He turned away and stepped towards a nearby door which had a brass plate outside. He rang the bell. ‘And when I said I wasn’t coming back, I meant just that. As from today I resign. You can keep my month’s salary in lieu of notice if you wish.’

Gilbert continued to stare as Billy waited for someone to answer the door. ‘You’ll regret it!’ he snapped as the door opened. ‘You can’t live on fresh air and charity!’

‘A lot of people do.’ Billy turned away and stepped inside the open door.

‘When did you decide?’ Gilbert called him back. ‘Don’t be hasty! You might change your mind!’

Billy popped his head around the door; he suddenly looked animated and refreshed. ‘I won’t.’ He grinned, his teeth looking white in his grimy face. ‘And I decided about two minutes ago.’

When Tom came down the stairs the morning after he had brought Jenny back to the mill house, the fire was blazing in the hearth, the kettle was boiling and there was a smell of porridge cooking in the pan. George was already seated at the table, an empty bowl by his elbow, enthusiastically dipping a thick slice of bread into a plate of eggs.

‘’Morning, sir.’ Jenny looked up from the range as he entered the kitchen. ‘I’m sorry I can’t cook any bacon, ’cos there doesn’t seem to be any. But I collected some eggs from that big garden at ’back where ’hens are. Was it all right to do that?’

‘That’s ’paddock.’ George interrupted with a mouthful of bread. ‘Where ’hens are, I mean.’

‘Beg pardon, Master George, I didn’t quite catch what tha said.’ A slight grin played around her mouth.

‘You’ll have to excuse my brother, Jenny,’ Tom apologized wryly. Martha had taught her well in such a short time. ‘He has the manners of a goat.’

She smiled back at him. ‘It’ll not take me long to find where everything is. But it seems funny out here in ’country without shops to buy bread and stuff. Cook at Garston Hall showed me how to knead dough, but I’m not very good at it yet. I couldn’t get my teeth into ’last lot that I made.’

‘Tha can’t be any worse than our Betsy,’ George remarked, ‘she’s worst cook I’ve ever known. Doesn’t tha want thy porridge, Tom?’

Tom moved his dish out of George’s reach and started to eat. ‘I’ll take you through to my father when
I’ve finished this, Jenny, and we’ll see what he wants. He doesn’t eat much, but we try to persuade him if we can. Then I’ll help him up.’

‘Oh, I’ve been in already, sir,’ she said quickly. ‘Mr Foster heard me moving about and called to me. He’s had porridge and a boiled egg and a slice of bread, so he’s set up ’till dinner time.’

Tom and George glanced at each other. Their father wasn’t usually in the best of moods in a morning, especially if he had had a painful night, and it was all they could do, as a rule, to persuade him to eat a morsel of bread.

‘I have to ride into Hull.’ Tom finished his porridge. ‘I, er, have some business to attend to. Is there anything I can get for you?’

‘Is tha going to look for our Betsy, Tom?’ George interrupted. ‘She should have been back by now.’

Tom sighed and pushed back his chair. ‘Thank you, Jenny. That was good.’ Outwardly he was polite but inwardly seething at his brother’s lack of reticence in front of the girl. He leaned towards him and whispered, ‘I’ll put a bit and bridle on your tongue before you’re much older, just see if I don’t.’

‘Oh, Master Tom! I nearly forgot.’ Jenny turned from the sink. ‘First post has come. I left ’letter on your fayther’s bed. He said he’d wait for you to go in and read it.’

‘How are you this morning, Da?’ Tom picked up the envelope and turned it over. It was good quality paper, with a C embossed in the corner.

‘Not so bad,’ his voice was low and he spoke with effort, ‘though I haven’t slept much ’cos of worrying over our Betsy. Then I got to thinking about Mark and wondering where he is! They’ve got wanderlust, those two, and no mistake.’

He threw back the bed coverings. ‘Yon young woman is a cheerful little soul, isn’t she? She’ll have us all eating out of her hand if we don’t watch her.’ He frowned his beetling eyebrows as he watched
Tom’s eyes scanning the letter. ‘What’s up? Is it trouble?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Tom held the letter loosely in his hand. ‘It’s from Betsy. She says she’s staying with friends in Hull for a few days, maybe a week.’ He glanced at the letter again. ‘She says she’s sorry she wasn’t able to get back home. She missed her lift because of the crush of people in Hull and bumped into some friends who invited her to stay with them.’

‘Friends! What friends does she have in Hull? Who does she mean?’ His father barked out the questions and then grimaced as Tom helped him out of the bed and into his chair.

‘I don’t know.’ Tom shook his head. He was ready and dressed to ride into Hull. Should he still go, and where would he start looking?

‘Who does she know that we don’t? Could she mean Gilbert’s wife?’

‘She would surely have mentioned them by name, if that’s who she is with.’ Tom deliberated. There seemed no sense in going on a wild-goose chase if Betsy was enjoying herself with friends. She wouldn’t be pleased to see him and be returned home; even if he knew where to find her.

‘I’ll ride over to see Sammi again and ask her what she thinks, and then leave it at that. No sense in worrying. Her letter is very cheerful. She must be all right, Da. She just doesn’t consider anybody else, that’s the trouble with Betsy.’

Once more he arrived at the door of Garston Hall, but this time he was shown in to see Aunt Ellen, who was in her sitting-room with an opened letter on the table in front of her.

He greeted her with the query that he hoped her visit to the Wolds was a pleasant one, and she nodded, regarding him intently, and said that it was. ‘I hope your correspondence was good news, Aunt, for ours was rather perplexing.’

As he was telling her about Betsy’s letter, Sammi
came into the room and listened as he finished his explanation.

‘I’m worried, Tom,’ Sammi said softly. ‘I can’t think who Betsy will be with; and I really don’t understand her behaviour.’ A small frown appeared between her brows. ‘I acknowledge that she has not been well lately, and felt the need to get away, but even so!’