‘But …’
He wiped the tears from her eyes with his handkerchief. ‘If you want David to remain part of this family, let him go, Mary.’
‘It’s hard.’
‘My mother always said that letting go is the worst thing about having children. She didn’t want me to go to boarding school, neither did I come to that, but the decision was made for us by the trustees of my estate. And if she hadn’t gone along with it, she and I might have lost what little influence we have with the board. And there’s Edyth. My father and mother predicted that her marriage to Peter would end in disaster but if they hadn’t given her permission to marry him, there’s no saying what Edyth might have done. Run away to Gretna Green or done something even more stupid. Let David go with good grace, darling,’ he reiterated, ‘and he might – just might – come back to us and the farm.’
She looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. ‘Do you think he will?’ she asked tremulously, needing reassurance.
‘I don’t know. But what I do know is that if we try to keep him here against his will, he’ll end up hating us and the farm, so we may as well let him go with our blessing.’
‘You know he’s only leaving because of Edyth?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t think she loves him.’
Harry had watched Edyth and David at the carnival and as Edyth had treated David no differently from him or anyone else in the family, he was forced to agree with his wife. ‘I don’t think she does either.’
‘Then where will that leave David? He’ll be stuck in Cardiff, trying to get a job on board ship when he knows nothing about them. And all three of Judy’s uncles were complaining yesterday that they couldn’t get berths out of Tiger Bay and they’re registered as able seamen. David hasn’t even got ship’s papers. He won’t be an ordinary seaman; he’ll be nothing – a dogsbody.’
‘Judy’s uncles have families to support. They’ll want higher wages than David.’
‘You know Tiger Bay’s reputation. David could get beaten up there – murdered even.’
‘Darling, Edyth’s surviving there and she hasn’t been beaten up or murdered.’ Harry pulled her head down on his shoulder. ‘Edyth may not love David but he’s family. She has friends there, good friends. If we ask them, they’ll look out for David and see that he doesn’t come to any harm.’
‘You think so?’ She sat up and looked at him.
‘I know so.’ He spoke with more conviction than he felt. ‘After David’s left, I’ll telephone Edyth and ask her to talk to Micah Holsten and Judy’s uncles. They have steady heads and influence in the community. And I’d better make sure that David has enough money to keep himself for a few weeks until he finds work. He’ll also need to take his bank book with him. But for now we’ll go outside and tell David that we wish him well and we’ll drive him to the station. And no matter what, he’ll always have a home here with us, whenever he wants one.’
Aled James stood before the cheval mirror in the luxuriously furnished bedroom of his Windsor Hotel suite and adjusted his shirt cuff to the recommended half inch that should be worn below a suit jacket to show off his solid gold, diamond-studded cuff links. He might have sailed into Tiger Bay as a sailor but he had no intention of being mistaken for one now he had arrived. He had given his seaman’s clothes to Freddie that morning and told him to dispose of them.
Clothes were Important to him, as were his shoes. All handmade, and not just in London. It was possible to buy anything in New York provided you had the money to pay for it, and the last suit he’d had tailored had come from the workshops of a renowned Jewish gentlemen’s outfitters in Warsaw. Three pairs of his shoes bore the label of a Berlin cobbler who’d made the Kaiser’s footwear until he’d abdicated. His shirts and underwear came from Bond Street, his silk ties from Paris.
He opened his cigar case and removed one he’d already cut. He lit it with his solid gold cigarette lighter. Like the case, the lighter was Dunhill, his watch, Patek Philippe and Co., Geneva. Only the best for him. He might have felt pleased with himself and what he’d accomplished in America – if thoughts of Harry Evans hadn’t kept intruding into his mind.
They brought a sharp unpalatable reminder of the filthy, barefoot urchin he’d been. His skin marked by ringworm and bruises, his body crawling with fleas and lice, as he and Harry had played in the sea of colliery waste around Bush Houses in Clydach Vale. It hadn’t been much of a place, but then his mother had never been much of a housekeeper – or, come to that, much of a mother. He’d loved her but he had never been blind to her faults, and hindsight had thrown every one of them into sharp relief.
He buttoned his beige silk waistcoat, adjusted the knot on his paisley silk tie and checked his cream linen suit for creases. The maid had done an excellent job of pressing it and he made a mental note to tip her more generously next time he asked her to look after his clothes. He had lived in hotel suites since the day he had begun to make serious money. It saved him the bother of having to buy a place and staff it, and it was easy to entertain business associates at short notice. Provided the hotel was high class, he had learned that money could buy him whatever he wanted – at any time of the day or night.
There was a knock at the outside door and he shouted, ‘It’s open.’
Freddie showed a thin man with a pencil moustache into the sitting room. Aled left the bedroom and joined them.
‘Mr Arnold, the estate agent, to see you, boss.’
‘Mr Arnold.’ Aled gave the man a broad, empty smile. ‘Would you like a drink?’
‘Coffee, please,’ Geoff Arnold replied cautiously.
‘Freddie, telephone down for coffee for two. You have brought your portfolio of properties for sale and rent, Mr Arnold?’
‘I have, Mr James.’
‘Sit down. We may be able to do business.’
Edyth hadn’t attended church since she’d bought the bakery. When the Reverend Spicer had visited her to reproach her on her absence, she’d used the excuse of lack of time due to the pressing needs of her business. But lack of time hadn’t stopped her from taking Sunday afternoon walks. Micah’s boat, the Escape, was berthed among a flotilla of other small boats in a secluded dock, well away from the large vessels that towered over the quaysides.
Micah had inherited the boat from a friend. It hadn’t sailed in years and since Micah had sold the engine and sails, it was no longer even capable of moving. But it made an ideal retreat from the crowded and noisy Norwegian mission. He went there whenever he wanted to read or compose music and practise his saxophone. And, in the last few months, it had become Edyth’s sanctuary from the world too.
Not quite knowing what to expect after the words they had exchanged the night before, Edyth’s steps slowed as she approached the plank walkway that stretched across the dock to allow access to the boats. She could hear Micah playing ‘Ain’t Misbehavin’, recognising the tune from a record her eldest sister Bella and her husband Toby had brought back from their honeymoon in New York. She waited until he finished before tapping on the cabin door.
Micah opened it and looked at her in surprise. ‘Why the knock?’
‘Because I wasn’t sure you wanted to see me after what you said last night.’
‘I was angry, wasn’t I?’ He stood back to allow her to walk in.
‘Does the past tense mean that you aren’t any more?’
‘I’ve decided to postpone the argument until you are free. Then I’ll start it up again.’
‘I warn you now, Micah, I won’t become an appendage to your mission.’
He set his saxophone down carefully in its velvetbedded case. ‘I said I’ll postpone the argument.’ He took off his glasses. Folding them, he set them beside the case before wrapping his arms around her and kissing her.
Relieved, she leaned against him. ‘I do love you.’
‘I know.’ He glanced down at the table separating the two bench seats that could be converted into a bed. ‘Tired?’
>
‘Exhausted.’
‘Judy?’
‘I left her eating a late breakfast. She intends to spend the rest of the day with her uncles and their families. What about the mission?’
‘A visiting ship’s chaplain asked if he could take evening service. I told him that I’d sacrifice the pleasure of conducting it just this once.’
She smiled. ‘A whole afternoon and evening.’
‘I would say, “Let’s see if we can stay awake because that way, we’ll make it last longer”, but I’ve a feeling we’ll be asleep five minutes after we stretch out on the bed.’
‘Five minutes?’ She lifted her eyebrows. ‘Maybe ten.’ He folded the table away.
‘Ten minutes can be a long time. I can barely keep my eyes open now, let alone after you’ve had your wicked way with me.’ She watched him bolt the door. ‘We’re all right, aren’t we, Micah?’ she asked seriously.
‘For the time being.’
Trying not to think further than that afternoon, she pulled the cushions from the bench seat and tossed them on to the floor.
He stepped over them, gathered her into his arms and unbuttoned the back of her dress. Sliding it over her shoulders, he allowed it and her petticoat to drop to the floor. ‘Did I ever tell you that you’re beautiful?’
‘Always when you take your glasses off and can’t see.’ She drew back, unbuttoned his waistcoat, helped him out of it and pulled down his braces.
‘I can see everything I want to.’ He slipped the straps of her bust shaper over her shoulders. When her breasts were exposed he kissed each nipple in turn.
‘We should make the bed properly.’ She was still unbuttoning his shirt when he pressed her down on to the cushions.
‘Why?’ He kissed the soft skin at the base of her ear.
‘Because we’ll be uncomfortable later.’
‘And then we’ll wake up and do this all over again.’ Unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his flies, he kicked his trousers off and pulled down her French knickers. ‘I like you just the way you are now – naked. You do realise once we’re married I won’t allow you to dress. And then we’ll have a lifetime of Sunday afternoons.’
He entered her and for once, she allowed his forecast of their future together to go unchallenged …
Judy was washing her breakfast things when the telephone rang in the ante room off the kitchen, where Edyth did her accounts and kept her invoices. She picked it up and recited the telephone number.
‘Judy?’
‘Hello, Mr Evans,’ she said, relieved that it wasn’t a customer demanding extra baked goods or cancelling an order. She enjoyed working for Edyth but hated making decisions that might cost the business money if she got them wrong.
‘Is Edyth there?’
‘No, she went out an hour ago.’
‘Is she likely to be back soon?’
‘Not until this evening, she’s gone to visit a friend,’ she answered evasively.
‘Damn! Sorry, Judy, I didn’t mean to swear. Can you get a message to her?’
‘If it’s urgent, Mr Evans, I can try.’ She knew exactly where Edyth was because every gossip in the Bay had seen her visit Micah Holsten’s boat on Sunday afternoons, but the last thing she wanted to do was disturb them.
‘My brother-in-law David – what am I saying, of course you know David – you were dancing with him yesterday. Well, he left the farm this morning for Cardiff. His train is due in at four o’clock. He’s taken it into his head to become a sailor.’
‘Now? When there’s a slump in trade and all the shipping companies are laying off seamen?’
‘You don’t have to tell me it’s a crazy idea. But there’s no point in trying to talk David out of it. Once he makes up his mind to do something, he does it, no matter what the consequences. He’s going to have to find out how impossible it will be for him to become a sailor the hard way. He doesn’t know anyone in the Bay except you and Edyth and although he’s practically family, he’s not related to Edyth by blood so I don’t think he should move in with you two,’ he said flatly. ‘But I don’t want him wandering around the doss houses on the docks. He’s lived on the farm all his life, he’s not used to people, especially ones who will take advantage of a young boy’s naivety.’
‘I understand, Mr Evans. Helga Brown – Pastor Holsten’s sister – takes in lodgers. She lives in the same street as my uncles.’
‘That sounds perfect. Do you think she’ll have a room to spare?’
‘I don’t know about a room, Mr Evans – they come expensive on the Bay. But she’ll probably have a bed.’
‘If she has, reserve it for David, please. He has enough money to keep himself for a few weeks. When it runs out I hope he’ll have enough sense to come home. If Micah’s sister can’t put him up, try and find him respectable lodgings somewhere else. And tell Edyth I’d be grateful if she’d meet the train and see him to Micah’s sister’s house. Ask her to telephone me as soon as she can. Mary’s worried sick about him.’
‘I will, Mr Evans, and if Edyth can’t meet the train I will.’
‘Thank you, Judy, you’re a gem. I must go and pick up Mary and the others from chapel now. Look after yourself and Edie for me.’
‘I will, Mr Evans. Goodbye.’ Judy replaced the receiver and walked back into the kitchen.
David Ellis was coming to the Bay to live – and, he thought, work. With the situation as it was at the moment an unskilled man would be lucky to get a berth on a coal ship to Ireland in return for his food. Judy only hoped David had enough sense not to advertise the fact that he was carrying sufficient money to pay for a few weeks’ lodging. If he didn’t, he’d soon attract the attention of some of the more desperate seamen in the doss houses.
She’d have to persuade him to hand over the bulk of his money to Helga Brown in advance to pay for his board and lodgings. She tried not to think what might happen if he chose not to listen to her. She didn’t know David well, but the fact that he’d insisted on coming to the Bay in the face of Harry and Mary’s opposition was testimony to his stubbornness and lack of common sense.
Her heart beat faster as an image came to mind of Harry Evans, handsome, debonair, well-to-do and respectable, unlike some of the rougher characters who lived on the Bay. And he was devoted to his wife and children. She didn’t love Harry – how could she when he was a married man? – but she hoped that there would be a man a little like him in her future. One who would love and cosset her and take care of her and their children the way Harry did Mary.
She sighed. It was more likely she’d continue to be surrounded by immature headstrong idiot boys like David Ellis, who needed looking after because they were just as stupid and troublesome as her cousins and their friends. Boys who had about as much romance in their soul as the dull-eyed codfish that lay on Tommy the fishmonger’s cart.
Irritated by the thought, she threw the dishcloth back into the washing-up water and carried on washing her dishes.
Chapter Four
‘It’s an excellent location, Mr James. And, as you see, the building is in good condition.’
‘Externally,’ Aled qualified. He stepped back on the pavement and glanced up at the imposing, Victorian-built three-storey building in Bute Street while Geoff Arnold unlocked the front door. He noted that the roof was in good repair, as were all the windows and the three doors that faced the street. He also noticed that the woodwork had been freshly painted and the ornamental brickwork around the windows and doors newly pointed.
‘It used to be a hotel, but,’ Geoff hesitated before adding, ‘times are hard.’
‘The bank repossessed it?’ Aled guessed from the recent renovations.
‘Not many visitors to the docks can afford hotel prices now that trade has slumped and those who can tend to stay at the Windsor since they reduced their room rate. As for ordinary sailors – they can no longer be sure how long they’ll have to stay in the port, so they’re reluctant to even pay for a bed in a doss house.
’ Geoff opened the door.
Aled walked ahead of him into an imposing hall that housed an enormous, elegant, curved staircase, two sets of double and two single doors. ‘This is a waste of space.’
‘The last owner had the reception desk here.’ Geoff opened the double doors on their right and they walked into a large, empty room that had been stripped back to the bare walls and floorboards. ‘This was the residents’ sitting room.’
Aled saw a door in the back wall. ‘Where does that lead?’
‘Offices and lavatories.’ Geoff opened the door. Aled looked up and down a narrow corridor. There were two doors marked LADIES and GENTLEMEN and another marked OFFICE.
‘What else is on this floor?’
‘There’s a smaller room to the left of the hall that was used as a bar.’
Aled walked back through the hall, opened the second set of double doors, and looked inside. A bar ran the width of the back wall, but like the sitting room there was neither flooring nor furniture. He returned to the hall. ‘Where do those two doors lead?’
‘One to the servants’ back staircase, the other to the stairs down to the cellar.’
Aled ran up the grand staircase. Three corridors opened off a wide galleried landing.
‘There are fifteen double bedrooms, two bathrooms and three lavatories on this floor,’ Geoff Arnold said, panting breathlessly as he caught up with him.
‘You’re very familiar with this place.’
‘I enforced the repossession order for the bank and arranged the auction of fixtures and fittings.’
‘And bought the building at a knockdown price?’ Aled guessed shrewdly.
‘I paid off the remaining mortgage. The bank directors were happy.’
‘I bet they were. Where’s the staircase to the next floor?’
Geoff opened one of the doors. Aled walked up a plain narrow staircase to the top floor. ‘Were these servants’ quarters?’
‘The family’s living accommodation.’ Geoff opened the doors in turn. ‘Sitting room, drawing room, dining room, four bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen and study. And, as you see, all well-proportioned. There are four attic rooms, which were used to house the maids.’
Tiger Ragtime Page 6