Pickens finished the last page, took off his reading spectacles, and looked up at Douglas. “We may need to adjust these sailing dates. I’ll confer with my manager about that. I’ll also have to get his agreement to the terms for demurrage. Sometimes the trains can be delayed getting the cargo to port, which means it takes longer than anticipated to load the ship. We want to ensure any extra fees for this are reasonable.”
“I feel confident we can work out the details to everyone’s satisfaction.”
“Yes, so do I.” Pickens stood and offered Douglas his hand. “Congratulations, Mr. Shaw. We look forward to doing business with Henley and Company.”
An hour later, Douglas walked the busy streets of Atlanta on the way back to his hotel, feeling quite proud and satisfied. He’d obtained a new and lucrative trading partner for his company. Tomorrow he’d be on a train to California to talk to grain merchants and build on his successes.
Seeing a telegraph office, he decided to go in and send a message back to his employer. Mr. Henley would be glad to hear the results of today’s meeting as soon as possible. Douglas wouldn’t be able to send confidential details over the public wire, but he could at least send the good news of this new deal.
After filling out the telegram form, Douglas waited in line for the clerk. He liked telegraph offices. The ones in America, especially in a big city like Atlanta, always seemed to be thrumming with activity. This one had four telegraph machines, all manned by operators who were busy sending and receiving the endless transactions that kept commerce moving. As a trained operator himself, Douglas could make out snippets of the messages coming over the wires among the cacophony of dots and dashes as the machines clicked away.
“Repeat that back to me, please,” Douglas said, handing the form to the clerk when it was his turn.
The clerk looked it over to ensure the form was correctly filled out, then read the body of the message aloud. “‘Meeting a success. Mystery sulfur minor tempest. Letter to follow.’” He gave Douglas a knowing grin. A less experienced clerk might have wondered at the string of seemingly random words in the middle, but this one had recognized right away that it was code. Every word in that odd sentence represented a whole phrase.
“Include the extra fee for return confirmation,” Douglas instructed. “I’ll wait while you send it.”
“Yes, sir.” The operator looked to be about twenty years older than Douglas. Perhaps he was content to remain a telegraph operator, but Douglas had always known he was destined for bigger things.
He’d come a long way since his days as a telegraph operator in Glasgow. An even longer way from his miserable upbringing in the poorest parts of that city. Yet today felt like just the beginning, for surely even greater things were to come.
CHAPTER
Two
Three months later
Alice disembarked from the omnibus and hurried toward the tall building on Leadenhall Street that was now her workplace. Although travel had been slow today due to heavy traffic, by walking rapidly, Alice was able to breeze through the door to Henley and Company’s offices on the ground floor just in time. She greeted Mr. Dawson and Mr. Nicholls, the two bookkeeping clerks, and Miss Mavis Waller, who was the typist and filing clerk. Smiling, she took a seat at her desk and anticipated the day ahead. After three months, this had become her established routine, and she loved it.
Her desk was located in a recessed area near a window in the side of the building. Her view was of a narrow lane, used primarily by pedestrians, that separated her building and the one next door. The window did manage to catch some breezes, however, which was helpful on warm days. Alice opened it now to let in some fresh air. This bit of common sense was likely to bring a complaint from Archie Clapper, the other telegraph operator. His desk was next to hers, and he invariably objected whenever wind from the open window disturbed his papers. He wouldn’t be here for another hour, though, so Alice decided to make the most of it.
Working with Archie was the only drawback to this otherwise enjoyable job. He was unfriendly and had a talent for ignoring his own laziness in order to criticize perceived faults in others. Alice could deal with him, though. She generally ignored any small barbs he threw at her and found pleasure in pushing back against his less subtle ones. At any rate, having an irascible colleague was a small price to pay for such interesting work.
As was often the case, the day turned out to be one when the telegrams were flying. There was a constant flow to Henley and Company’s office in Liverpool, and from there, across the Atlantic Ocean to New York. Important deals involving sums of money so large they still made Alice’s head spin were on the point of being finalized.
Sending these messages was more complicated than sending a standard telegram. Alice’s first task upon starting work here had been to familiarize herself with the hundred-page codebook that had been developed specifically for communication with their clients and other offices. This was critical, since the overseas telegrams went through a chain of public telegraph offices before reaching their final destination.
This was the busiest day Alice had seen since coming to work here. The stream of messages was so constant that she didn’t have time to bother about Archie’s surly manner. On a normal day, she would occasionally send a pleasant smile his way even though she knew such friendliness irritated him. He usually turned away, as though determined not to allow any goodwill to penetrate his gruff exterior. Alice could not understand why he disliked her working here. It wasn’t as though she might somehow steal his job and put him out of work. The volume of telegrams sent daily easily kept two people busy. Besides, if he was worried about that, he wouldn’t allow her to do what was often more than her fair share. Most likely he simply didn’t care to work with women. Alice had encountered that attitude before.
She had just sent off a particularly challenging telegram and poked the message onto the SENT spindle with satisfaction when she saw Archie glaring at her. She frowned back at him. “Is something amiss, Mr. Clapper? You appear . . . indisposed.”
In truth, he looked as though he’d just eaten a particularly vile and indigestible meal. As much as she would have loved to have said so, Alice refrained. She generally tried not to sink to his level.
Archie motioned with his balding head across the office toward the door that led out to the main hallway. “I intend to tell Mr. Henley about the way you keep disrupting our work environment.”
Alice turned in the direction he’d indicated, expecting to see the owner, Mr. Henley, standing there. Her question about what she’d been doing to cause a “disruption” was answered before she could ask. It was not their employer who had just come in the door; it was Lucy Bennington.
Alice suppressed a groan. Of all the days for her friend to drop by, today was probably the worst. Even now the telegraph was clicking away. Since Archie was working the incoming messages, he gave them both one more malevolent glare before turning his attention to answer it.
Catching Alice’s eye, Lucy waved enthusiastically. By now, at least, Lucy knew better than to call out to her. That had gotten Alice into trouble before. Alice would have preferred her friend not come here at all, but Lucy was impervious to Alice’s admonitions, insisting the office was not a prison. While that was certainly true, Alice was concerned about keeping up a professional image. She had not been here long, and she wanted to ensure no one could have a reason to let her go.
Alice sent Lucy an answering wave and a signal for her to wait. She had two more messages to send before she could take a break. Both required transcription into code. She worked calmly and deliberately to show Archie she had no plans to abandon her work before her scheduled time.
When Alice had finished sending the messages, she signed off and rose from her chair, not bothering to address Archie. This was her lunch break, and she wasn’t going to waste a minute of it dealing with him. She hurried over to where Lucy still stood at the door, fairly wriggling with excitement.
“Lu
cy, what are you doing here?” Alice whispered. “You know it’s difficult for me to get away while I’m at work.”
“Yes, I know, but today there is a new shipment of ladies’ goods at Drake and Sons, and of course, one must get there early, before the best items get snatched up. I was sure you’d want to join me.”
Given that they’d been friends since the age of fourteen, when they had met as students at Miss Templeton’s School for Young Ladies, Lucy was well aware that hurrying to buy a new item of clothing was the last thing on Alice’s list of preferred pastimes. Lucy had been doing her best to change that. After marrying Mr. Clive Bennington, a well-to-do stockbroker, Lucy had become enamored with the joys of keeping up with the latest fashions. Ever since, she’d done her best to instill this love in Alice as well.
Alice took Lucy’s arm and steered her out the door, away from Archie’s disapproving gaze. “This isn’t the best day for me to go out. There is a lot of work to do.”
“You say that every time I come here.”
“Perhaps because it is true.”
“They work you too hard.” Lucy’s mouth twisted as she gave Alice a concerned look. “I worry about your health.”
Alice did her best to tuck away her irritation at this remark. She might not live in ease with a husband to provide for her—something Lucy was always touting the benefits of—but she considered herself better off in other ways.
“I’ll buy you lunch,” Lucy added brightly, knowing this would sweeten the deal. “The tearoom at Drake and Sons has delicious sandwiches, and their cakes are like little pieces of heaven.”
“All right,” Alice relented, and not just because the offer of lunch did sound tempting. Perhaps it would do her good to get out for a while. Some days, Archie could really get on her last nerve. “Remember, though, I can’t return late.”
Lucy’s joyful smile eased Alice’s misgivings, even if it didn’t lessen the burn of the disapproval Archie had sent her way. He wasn’t her supervisor, she reminded herself. He had no authority over her—so long as she did not allow it.
Douglas threaded his way through the crowd at the railway platform. Having gone on so many trips for his employer, he felt he knew every inch of Paddington by heart. He paused to allow a porter with a cart full of baggage to hurry by, and spared a quick glance upward to appreciate the giant arched glass roof overhead. Recent rain must have cleared it of its usual layer of soot, because today bright sunshine glinted through it.
Returning his gaze back to earth, he spotted a young lady giving him an appreciative glance as she walked in his direction. She was pleasant looking, an impression no doubt augmented by her tastefully flattering dress and an understated but elegant hat. He would gladly have tipped his own hat to her in response to her little overture, except she was on the arm of her father. So he settled for the merest hint of a smile and lift of his brow, which went unnoticed by the older man but not by the lady. There was a sparkle in her eye as they passed him.
This interlude added to Douglas’s good mood. He felt invincible in all his dealings right now. This elation had been with him for the entire voyage home from America. He had spent six months there traveling around the country, from the East Coast all the way to California on the transcontinental railroad. It was the most ambitious trip Douglas had ever undertaken, and his employer, Mr. Henley, was more than pleased with the results. So many of Douglas’s long-held dreams were becoming reality.
Mr. Henley stood waiting for him at the end of the platform.
“Welcome back, Shaw,” Henley said, shaking Douglas’s hand vigorously. “I don’t expect you’re surprised to see me.”
He wasn’t. He knew Henley would be anxious to get the particulars of the trip that could not be put into brief telegraph messages or even letters. “To be honest, I half expected a welcome band and maybe some banners,” Douglas answered with a smile.
Henley looked perplexed. For a split second, Douglas wondered if he’d overstepped, sounding too pompous. But then Henley let out a robust guffaw. “That’s a good one, Shaw! You deserve it, that’s for sure.” He motioned toward Douglas’s bag. “I hope you won’t mind putting off your return home until after you’ve come to the office?”
“I was planning on it.”
“Very good. I knew we could count on you.”
Yes, Douglas thought, as the two of them strode briskly outside and got into Henley’s waiting carriage, things were looking good in every respect. The months he’d spent in America had yielded more than just good trading contracts for his company. Mr. Henley had hinted at generous benefits if Douglas made a good job of it. Soon there would be a promotion, along with the accompanying raise in pay, and introductions into the best society circles. Mr. Henley would even introduce Douglas to Miss Penelope Rolland, daughter of a wealthy banker and one of London’s most eligible, rich, and well-connected young ladies. It was just another step in his rise to success.
Not bad for the son of a shipyard laborer, Douglas thought to himself as the carriage pulled away from the station. He smiled as he watched London unrolling before him, feeling almost as though he owned it. Not bad at all.
Although Alice could be irritated sometimes at Lucy’s impromptu luncheon dates, she couldn’t deny they were often enjoyable. She and Lucy sat in the tearoom in Drake and Sons, finishing up the tarts that had accompanied a truly delightful tray of little sandwiches. Lucy was regaling her with a story involving her sweet but mischievous lapdog, Bulwer, and a piece of beef that the butler had been horrified to discover behind the sofa.
Alice smiled, although it wasn’t in response to Lucy’s tale. A memory from their school days had surfaced in her mind. “Lucy, do you remember that time we took an unauthorized picnic by the stream that ran about a half mile from Miss Templeton’s school?”
“I certainly do.” Her mouth twitched in a playful smile. “I filched some food from the pantry and persuaded you to sneak away with me.” She pointed a reproving finger at Alice. “As I recall, getting the goods past the cook was a lot easier than tearing you from your studies.”
Lucy was right about that. Alice had always been a stickler for following the rules, and besides, she’d planned to spend those two hours preparing for an upcoming exam.
“I knew you’d been working too hard,” Lucy said. “You have to admit it did you a world of good to steal those few hours of freedom and lounge in the sunshine.”
Alice nodded. “The wonder to me is that we got away with it, despite showing up late for deportment lessons with dirt clinging to our skirts. I have no doubt Miss Templeton figured out what we’d done.”
“Judging by the look she gave us as we stumbled in, I’m sure she did! But perhaps even that formidable lady realized an afternoon outside could do no harm.”
If so, it was a piece of wisdom shared by Lucy and their former headmistress. Alice knew she could take life too seriously sometimes. Then, as now, it seemed Lucy’s self-appointed job was to make sure Alice took a break from time to time for play. And really, as Alice popped the last bite of a strawberry tart into her mouth, she couldn’t help but be grateful for it.
She finished her tea as Lucy signed for the bill.
“Right, let’s get to the shopping!” Lucy said as they rose from the table.
They made their way to the ladies’ clothing section of the department store. Lucy paused at a counter where a shop girl was laying out a colorful display of new scarves. “Aren’t these lovely? Some of these would look stunning on you!”
“Do you think they’ll be fancy enough to go with this?” Alice teased, indicating her plain gray frock. Wishing to look as businesslike as possible, she always wore gowns in muted colors with high collars and long sleeves.
“Well, they could certainly liven it up.” Lucy draped a bright pink scarf over Alice’s shoulders. “What do you think?”
Alice frowned as she studied herself in the mirror on the counter. “It’s too bright. I don’t think it’s flattering at a
ll.”
“I suppose you think that dull gray frock is flattering?”
“I work with men all day. No one would take me seriously if I wore this to the office.”
“Nonsense,” Lucy scoffed. “Didn’t you tell me there were eight hundred women at the Central Telegraph Office? I can’t imagine all of them wore gray—especially as all women try to outdo each other in their sartorial choices.”
“Well, there’s only one other woman where I work now, and I’m not in competition with her.”
“Even so, maybe it would be better to stand out—”
Lucy’s protest died as Alice pulled out her pocket watch and flipped it open, pointedly checking the time. Alice was enjoying this outing, but she couldn’t ignore her work commitments.
“All right,” Lucy conceded. She took back the scarf and chose another from the counter. “What about this one? It’s understated and elegant. No man could fault you for wearing this. Have you seen some of the brightly colored waistcoats they wear these days?”
The scarf was a rich purple, with threads of silver woven through it in a delicate pattern. Lucy draped it expertly around Alice’s neck. “Look at how it enhances your overall appearance but not in a showy way. It’s perfect!”
Alice had to admit it was pretty. Checking the mirror again, she felt an unusual stirring of vanity as she viewed the effects of the scarf. How could something purple bring out the green in her eyes? Somehow it did, and she liked the result. “Oh, Lucy, are you trying to turn me into a vain woman who cares about such things?”
Lucy grinned. “It’s part of my nefarious plan.”
It didn’t take long for Lucy to choose two scarves and a pair of fine leather gloves for herself. She was free to indulge her fancy because her husband had given her credit at shops all over town. The shop girl wrapped up Lucy’s purchases and entered the amounts in the store ledger. Lucy insisted that Alice should wear her new scarf out of the shop rather than having it wrapped. Since this would save time, Alice agreed.
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