by Shirley Roe
Both Jenny and Ian stared at him in shocked silence. “But sir, I really don't think that is necessary.” Ian Murphy was beside himself. Who did this dowdy, unattractive young woman think she was, coming in here and making him look bad? And now she was to be his assistant? Unbelievable!
Jenny just stared. She could not believe her ears. Her heart was beating frantically in her chest.
“You may go, Mr. Murphy. I want you to go over every one of these invoices before you leave today.” Ian started to protest. “I said all of these invoices, today before you leave. You may go now.” Mr. Johnson turned his attention back to Jenny. “ Miss Barstow, please stay to discuss the details of your position.”
Ian Murphy snatched the invoices and marched angrily from the room. Jenny stared after him.
“I am very impressed indeed, Miss Barstow. Can you start tomorrow? You will be paid approximately two thirds of the salary that you were to get as my assistant. I know it is not the position you were promised, but if you prove yourself, there will be a future here for you.” Jenny was still staring at him. She could not speak. “Miss Barstow?”
“Yes, yes sir. I mean, yes thank you, Mr. Johnson. I will be happy to start tomorrow,” Jenny stuttered and stammered. “But are you sure Mr. Murphy wants me as his assistant?” She came, unsure of what she could accomplish, but she wanted to meet Mr. Johnson and ask for a lesser position. This was more that she could have hoped for. “Perhaps Mr. Murphy feels differently about this?”
“He wants what I tell him he wants. His uncle might be Lord Provost, but I run this office. Now, drink your tea and tell me all about your first impressions of our lovely city.”
Chapter Five
On her first day, Jenny arrived bright and early, sick with nerves. Slowly, she opened the door to Mr. Murphy's office, “Good morning, Sir.” Silence greeted her. He sat behind the large oak desk, a scowl on his handsome face.
It was very obvious that Mr. Murphy was not impressed with his new assistant as he rudely pointed to her desk in the corner, picked up his coat and left the office barely looking at her. Jenny hung her coat and hat on the rack by the door. She took in the huge office that they would now share. The walls were covered in wood panels, one wall displayed several large portraits and the windows faced the street. She fondled the heavy damask curtains, while observing the street below and then moved to the corner. Carefully, she sat in her chair. Her stomach was turning over with nerves; her hands were shaking. Jenny stared at the stack of papers piled high on her tiny desk. His desk, in contrast, was clean and uncluttered. It was very obvious that her superior would not be giving her any instruction, and a pleasant welcome was out of the question. He was definitely not pleased with the situation. She could not help but think, just for a moment, that the large desk should have been hers. She fantasized about how she would have rearranged the furniture before accepting reality. She should have been the one in charge, but being Mr. Murphy's assistant was the next best thing and she would do her best to prove herself a valuable asset. Well, here you are Jenny Barstow, you got what you wanted. Now get to work.
Once she opened the new ledger book, she began to relax. This was all down to figures, and she was very good with them. The old familiarity began to settle in her bones, and she began her new job with the care and intensity that she brought to everything she did.
The next few days passed in a whirlwind of activity. Jenny was amazed at the huge amount of money at the city's disposal. It certainly seemed huge to her, more than she had ever handled before in her entire life. She questioned Mr. Johnson about the finances and expenditures, since her direct superior was nowhere to be found. Mr. Johnson wondered why she was not discussing business with Ian Murphy, but since Jenny did not elaborate, he simply answered her questions and filed his own suspicions away for the future. He was impressed with her need for perfection and her organizational skills.
Not liking the idea of an assistant, Ian Murphy was shrewd. He did not complain. If she wanted to work, he would make sure she earned every penny. Instead of tending to business every morning, he simply piled the work on her desk. Ian Murphy would not have any late nights at the office now. He would leave not only the overload, but also all of the work, to his new assistant. Grinning to himself, he left Jenny to her work and spent his time flirting with the young women in the department. The young ladies were all vying for his attention. He was very attractive, and rich. As they flirted, Ian Murphy began to see the benefits of this new arrangement and he soon grew very pleased.
Jenny took the job in her stride. She felt confident and alive and happy to be working. One afternoon, while delivering some paperwork to Mr. Johnson, she was shocked to see Mr. Brown in the office. “Jenny, come in. This is Mr. Brown. He and I are members of the same club.” He turned to Mr. Brown. “Miss Barstow is Mr. Murphy's assistant. We are very pleased with her work.” Jenny swallowed the large lump in her throat. She could not look at Mr. Brown. Fortunately, in his arrogance, he barely looked at her. He simply mumbled a greeting. Not recognizing her, he continued to sip his brandy. She left quickly. Back in her office her heart was pounding in her chest. Just the sight of him made her skin crawl. Dear God, thank heavens he didn’t recognize me. He could have ruined everything. It took several minutes for her to calm down, even with Abigail's breathing exercises.
The first pay week, she stopped at the bakery to buy treats for Abigail and Zachariah. The bakery shop was filled with the aroma of fresh bread, and Jenny made her selection enjoying the tantalizing smells. Abigail and Zachariah would enjoy the tarts. She loved the two of them dearly and did not know what would have happened to her if they had not taken her under their wings.
Arriving at the house, Jenny set the box on the table and went to find Abigail. Old Tom greeted her, rubbing his head against her leg. “Is there any mail, Miss Abigail?” Abigail shook her head thinking whomever Jenny was waiting for a letter from must be very important. The young woman asked every day if there was a letter. Seated in the parlor, Jenny told Abigail and Zachariah about seeing Mr. Brown. “He is such a pompous man; he didn't even look at the lowly assistant. Sometimes it is good to be invisible in the rich man's world.” The others agreed.
“You just forget about that beast, Jenny. Supper will be ready soon.”
Soon the three friends settled down to supper and a lovely rhubarb tart. Jenny was pleased to bring them a small bit of pleasure; she owed them a great deal.
Early Sunday, Zachariah and Abigail took Jenny to St. Giles Cathedral on the Royal Mile, for morning services. She sat and stared at the beautiful stained glass, impressed by the size of the Cathedral. She concluded it must be at least four times bigger than the church in Watsworth; the tiny church she had always hoped to be married in one day. Dismissing any thoughts of Watsworth, she took in the beautiful alter. Small rooms were located all along the south side of the building; many statues and plaques filled the north wall. It was impressive. Abigail introduced her to several parishioners, and she started to feel part of Edinburgh. “So you are Mr. Ian Murphy's assistant? How do you like Edinburgh, Miss Barstow? Are you single, my dear? Where did you say you were from?” The questions came from all directions. Just like the nosy ladies in Watsworth, thought Jenny. She smiled and gave one-word answers.
After church, Jenny excused herself and walked to the top of the Royal Mile alone. Edinburgh Castle stood formidably guarding the city and from the castle wall Jenny could survey most of the city and the gardens below. Arthur's Seat, a large rocky outcrop, stood high and mighty, guarding the opposite end of the city. Separated by Princes Street, the old and the new made Edinburgh even more interesting to Jenny. Built when the ‘old town’ became overcrowded, the ‘new town’ boasted many shops and eating establishments and the old Georgian architecture of the old Edinburgh was contrasted by the ‘new town's’ neoclassical style and grandiose Grecian pillars. She was starting to realize that it had a charm all its own, she was beginning to feel at home. Closing her eye
s, she sniffed the air. Zachariah was right, I am getting used to you, Auld Reekie!
Jenny walked the streets, absorbing the sights and sounds that were Edinburgh. Amongst the crowds were many dignitaries, tourists, famous theatrical people and writers. She wandered past the large department store, Jenners. None of the shops were open on Sunday, but she could still window shop. Knowing it was too expensive for her meager allowance, she loved to look at the fine china, the beautiful sparkling crystal and the fine clothes. Longingly gazing in the shop windows, she could only dream of owning such finery.
“Why, Miss Barstow, I am surprised to see you here.” Taken aback, Jenny turned to find Mr. Murphy standing behind her. He was dressed in a dark blue suit with matching tie.
“Mr. Murphy, how nice to see you.” She wanted to run but good manners insisted that she stay and make conversation. “It is a lovely day to window shop.” He stared at her, making her very uncomfortable.
“Yes, it is. May I say that your blue blouse is most becoming to your blue eyes, Miss Barstow?” Jenny turned crimson. “May I walk with you?” Jenny was surprised at the compliment and the offer. He normally didn't want anything to do with her. As a matter of fact, he had spoken no more than five words to her since she started working for him. He offered his arm, throwing her off guard. Seeing her hesitation, he lifted her hand, boldly placing it on his forearm.
“I guess that will be all right,” she stammered. Taking his arm, the two slowly moved off down the street. Jenny was most uncomfortable. Slowly her cheeks returned to their healthy pink. He made small talk for a few minutes, but Jenny said nothing. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, not wanting to face him. Her stomach was filled with butterflies.
“Miss Barstow, Jenny, I wonder if you might do me a small favor?” Ian Murphy had an agenda.
“A favor, Mr. Murphy?” Now she began to realize why he was being so nice to her.
“Yes, tomorrow I have to go out of town. However, I don't have the day off officially, and I wonder if you might cover for me. If Mr. Johnson comes looking for me, just tell him I am in the building somewhere.” He stopped walking and turned toward her, turning on the charm. “I would be so grateful.” He smiled his most beguiling smile.
Jenny stared at him. He really was very handsome. “I… I guess I could do that, Mr. Murphy.” She felt like a stuttering fool.
“Ian, please, call me Ian. Outside of the office, of course.”
“Mr. Murphy, Ian, yes I can do that for you.” Jenny was staring at him, mesmerized. His brown piercing eyes locked with her blue ones, as if he could see her soul. He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. She was dumbfounded.
“Thank you, my dear. I do appreciate it, and I shan't forget it.” With that he bowed most chivalrously and moved off into the crowded street, leaving Jenny staring at the back of her hand.
The next day, Jenny was relieved that no one came looking for Mr. Murphy. She didn't feel comfortable lying, even if he was very charming. She adjusted the collar of her blue blouse. She felt silly wearing it again, but the compliment still echoed in her mind. Jenny did not receive many compliments. She remembered her mother's words, “You may not be beautiful like Elizabeth Drury, but you are clever. Better at figures than most boys, in fact. Use your mind Jenny and you will go places.” She always thought of herself as plain. Jenny sat at her desk allowing herself a few minutes to daydream. She imagined herself dancing at the Civic Ball, in the arms of Ian Murphy.
“Miss Barstow?” Shaken from her daydream, she realized that Miss Carter, the “gatekeeper” was standing in front of her with an arm full of invoices. “Here are the invoices for this week. I daresay you won't get much done staring into space.” Jenny blushed a deep pink. She dared not look at Miss Carter. The rude woman turned haughtily and walked away.
Dear me, I best not think such foolishness. What would Mr. Murphy want with a mousy looking woman like me? She pulled the pile of paper toward her and turned her thoughts back to the work at hand. Figures were what she was good at. She didn't need dances and foolishness.
That night she arrived home two hours later than usual. Meeting Jenny at the door, Abigail was worried. “Are you all right, child? I was so worried when you didn't arrive at six.”
“Yes, Miss Abigail, I am fine. There was a great deal of work to do today and I had to stay late to finish it.”
“Why didn't Mr. Murphy stay and take care of it? He is the one with the big paycheck and his name on the door. Why did you have to do it?” Abigail was not happy that Jenny had to work so hard. Experience told her that Mr. Murphy was taking advantage of his assistant.
“He was very busy himself. I didn't mind really.” She did not look at Abigail. In fact, Mr. Murphy was hardly in his office. Abigail noticed that Jenny seemed uncomfortable, yet she appeared to be defending him. Abigail found this very surprising. It was no secret that Mr. Murphy had taken Jenny's job. He was there only because of his family ties. Abigail had also heard many rumors about him being a womanizer. ‘Lazy,’ the women at church had called him. ‘Would not be working at all if not for his uncle,’ they said. Why is Jenny defending him? Abigail would speak to Zachariah about this turn of events. She looked at Jenny, patting her on the shoulder, “A nice cup of tea, that's what we need.”
The next day she sat in the parlor with her brother. “I am telling you, she actually defended that lay about! Something is going on.”
“I am sure Jenny was just being loyal to her employer. You make too much out of everything, Abby.” He reached for another oatcake. “These Bonnach-coirce are delicious.”
“Don't eat them all I made them especially for Jenny. She needs fattening up, that girl. I'm very worried. I don't want her to become one of his casual flirtations. She is very innocent and easily swayed.” Abigail took the plate of oatcakes and moved it to the other side of the room. Zachariah laughed at his sister.
“Looks like we are finished our tea, Tom.” He spoke to the cat, dozing on the back of the chair, oblivious to the human banter. “Jenny will take care of herself. I have noticed a new confidence in that young woman. One day she will meet a nice young man, and we will have to watch her walk down the aisle. She won't be here forever.”
“I am not worried about Jenny getting married someday. I am worried about that womanizer, Ian Murphy, taking advantage of her at work, not to mention her innocence.” Abigail plopped into the chair, almost knocking Tom from his perch. The cat shifted his weight to a safer section of the chair.
“Just relax, like you are always telling us to do. Jenny is fine, but I will talk to her if you like.” Zachariah picked up his cane and overcoat from the chair. The, he pecked Abigail's cheek and made his way to the door.
“Yes, I think you should talk to her. She looks up to you. Just make sure you warn her about that lecherous superior of hers. We don't want another incident like the one at the Brown mansion. “Zachariah winced at the mention of the Browns. He still felt guilty about taking Jenny to work there. The door closed quietly and Abigail began her breathing exercises.
Chapter Six
It was Gala Day in Watsworth. Tim McKitterek sat with his younger siblings watching the parade. His life had settled into a routine since Jenny had left. He was not happy, but he was resigned to his life. Work every day at the mine, seven days a week, hand over his pay to his mother at weekend and once in a while, go for a pint at the local pub with his mates.
“Look at the clown, Tim. He is funny.” Young William laughed at the clown's antics as the parade passed. “Tim, you're not looking.” William, age six, pulled at his brother's sleeve, drawing his attention back to the parade. Tim had been thinking of Jenny, wondering whether she was enjoying her new life in Edinburgh. Had she had met someone? Did she think about him at all? He had received no letters from her and since he did not know where she was living, he could not write to her. It seemed that Jenny had just disappeared.
“Can we have ice cream please, Tim?” It was his sister Mar
y. His sister Beth looked at him with pleading eyes. Tim had exactly two pounds to his name. He hoped to go out with his mates to the dance in town later that day. “Please, Tim?” William joined the other two, dancing around Tim's legs. Simon, not wanting to look anxious at ten years of age, followed close behind.
Jingling the change in his pocket, he smiled and steered the youngsters to the ice cream cart on the street. “Four ice cream cones please, Sir.”
“Hurray, thank you, Tim. This is the best day ever.” The children shouted, dancing around their older brother. Tim just smiled, paid the vendor and watched as the youngsters devoured the ice cream. He knew what little pleasure these children had and he was happy to make them smile even if just for one day. The vendor gave Tim his change. Staring at the few coins left, he knew it would be a quiet night for him.
“Are you coming to the dance, Tim?” He turned to see Elizabeth Drury ordering a cone. She was a friend of his sister, Megan, and at seventeen, she was a real beauty.
“Afternoon, Elizabeth, fine day for a parade.” The dark haired beauty smiled up at him.
“Will I see you at the dance?”
“No, I am afraid I must get these hooligans back to the farm. Please tell Megan not to be late. Nice to see you, Elizabeth, enjoy the day.” Tim ushered the children in the direction of the disappearing parade. She watched him go, wishing he would notice her. Elizabeth had set her sights on Tim when Jenny Barstow left town. She would win him over one of these days.
Tim and the children walked the four miles to their home and William amused them all with his funny stories. Everything seemed to amuse William. Always laughing, he was a bright spot in Tim's day.
The small stone house stood on the hillside of a large farm. Tim's father had worked for the farmer for years before disappearing one morning on his way to work. The farmer had allowed the family to stay out of pity and the hope that Tim and his brother would come to work on the farm. Tim knew that if they missed one month's rent, they would be out on their ear. His mother did some laundry for the farmer's wife, but there was no security here for the McKittereks. Tim's pay from the mine was all that kept them here and Tim could not help, but resent his father for leaving them.