by Shirley Roe
“Mr. Murphy, it is about the lost invoices.” With that he swiveled his chair to face her, a broad smile on his face.
“Have you found the illusive invoices, Miss Barstow?”
“Yes Sir, but there is a problem.” Jenny stood, picked up the invoices and approached his desk.
“A problem?” He was still smiling at her. It was making her very uncomfortable.
“The invoices appeared to be pushed to the back of the desk drawer; however, I find this very odd.”
“What is odd about it? You put them in the drawer and they were pushed to the back out of sight. I am sure it was an accident. Just pay them and get on with your work.” He swiveled back to the window. Jenny was fuming. How could she ever have let herself be taken in by this self-indulgent fool? Now she saw him for what he really was.
“I did not put these invoices in my desk drawer. In fact, I have never seen these invoices before yesterday.” Ian Murphy waited a few minutes before turning around to face her.
“Listen, Miss Barstow. I like you. You are a very good assistant. I will be willing to keep this between us in order for you to keep your job. Please just pay the invoices and let's both forget about it, shall we?”
“And what do we tell Mr. Johnson? He will want to know why they were not paid until today.” Ian had not thought of that. He had other things on his mind.
“I will take care of Mr. Johnson. Prepare the invoices for payment and I will go and see him right away.” Jenny started to protest, but he would not let her finish. “Miss Barstow, I am your superior. Please do as you are told. I will be back at half past the hour. Please have the invoices ready.” Jenny walked back to her desk as Ian walked out of the office.
She sat down putting her head into her hands and she fought back the tears that were threatening to escape.
“Harrumph. Excuse me Miss.” Turning her head, she wiped her face before standing to address her visitor. Jenny turned toward the door. A tall, distinguished, older gentleman stood in the doorway. He was staring at her.
“Yes Sir, may I help you?” Her voice trembled when she spoke; she was fighting to regain her composure.
“Are you all right, Miss?” He seemed genuinely concerned, which made holding back the tears even more difficult. He moved toward her. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
“Really, I am fine. Excuse me, what can I do for you? Mr…... ?”
“John Murphy, at your service. And you are?” Jenny stared at him in shock. The Lord Provost of Edinburgh was standing in front of her and she had acted such a fool.
“Lord Provost, Sir, your honor, it is a pleasure to meet you, I am Jennifer Barstow, Mr. Murphy's assistant.” As soon as she said it, she realized that not only was this the Lord Provost of Edinburgh, but Ian Murphy's uncle. “Mr. Murphy is out of the office at the moment.”
“Miss Barstow, it is you I have come to see.” He removed his coat and hat, making himself comfortable in one of the large leather chairs.
“Me? Why have you come to see me?” Jenny was growing very uncomfortable. Her head was spinning with questions. What does the Lord Provost want with me? Has Mr. Murphy already told him I was responsible for the nonpayment? Is he here to dismiss me in person? Where is Mr. Murphy? She stood staring at him, unable to move.
“May I have a cup of tea, Miss Barstow?” At this, Jenny snapped out of her dilemma.
“Tea, yes Sir. A nice cup of tea, that is what we need.” She giggled uncontrollably. John Murphy looked at her questioning. “Again I apologize, Sir. My dear landlady always says that. It makes me laugh every time I hear it. Tea could cure the world, I am sure.” Jenny rushed to the sideboard to prepare the tea while she was trying to regain her composure. He watched her, amused.
“So tell me a little about your background, Miss Barstow. Mr. Johnson speaks highly of you.” Jenny exhaled. At least he is not here to dismiss me. She carried the tea tray, setting it down in front of the older Mr. Murphy.
“I was born in Watsworth, in England. I worked at the mine in the accounts department before coming here. I have been here a few months. That is about all there is to tell, Lord Provost.” Jenny sat opposite him, starting to feel quite relaxed in his presence. He was a very kindly gentleman.
“And how do you like working here?”
“Oh, I love Edinburgh. It is a lovely city.”
“I asked about your working here, my dear. How do you like working for Mr. Murphy? Who I am sure you know is my nephew.”
“Mr. Murphy is a fine superior. A great deal of work is done in this office.” Jenny looked away when she spoke. John did not miss the gesture, as his suspicions began to grow.
“Where did you say Mr. Murphy was?”
“He will be back at half past the hour, Sir.”
“I asked you where he was, Miss Barstow.”
“I am sorry Sir, but he did not tell me where he was going. I am sure he is in the building.” Jenny was growing uncomfortable answering questions about Mr. Murphy. She fidgeted in her chair.
“I am afraid I cannot wait any longer, city business awaits. Please be sure to tell Ian that I was here.” He set his teacup on the tray. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Barstow. Keep up the good work; we need people like you here.” He smiled as he picked up his coat and hat. “A nice cup of tea was exactly what we needed.” He laughed and left as quietly as he had come. Jenny sat staring at the door.
She spoke out loud to no one in particular. “And I was going to give you a piece of my mind for giving that idiot nephew of yours my job.” She shook her head. The previous day's events came rushing back to her. Now what do I do?
Abigail and Zachariah sat over lunch discussing Jenny's problem at the office. Zachariah reassured his sister, “At least we don't have to worry about Jenny falling prey to Mr. Ian Murphy's advances, now that she knows what a scoundrel he is.” Abigail gave him a stare.
“You didn't speak to her, like I asked you to. Now you are happy to have gotten out of it. Dear brother, what do you think will happen to our Jenny with a superior like that? The man is obviously going to blame Jenny for those lost invoices and who knows what else. Something has to be done.” She shook her head. “That girl is as honest as the day is long.”
“Yes she is and the truth always wins out, Abigail.”
“Never mind the truth. You go down there and talk to Mr. Johnson before this whole thing blows up in Jenny's face.” She reached down and shooed the cat away. Old Tom gave her a cat scowl and walked indignantly from the kitchen.
“I can't do that and you know it. Jenny will handle this herself. I will discuss it with her tonight.” He looked to his sister who had a doubtful look on her face. “I said I will talk to her tonight, and I will.”
Ian Murphy did not return to the office all day. Jenny finished her work, paid the two overdue invoices for the garden clock and took them and the others to Mr. Johnson's office. He was not in when she arrived. Hesitating, she left all of the invoices on his desk as she did every day at this time. Jenny wanted to speak with him, but she really did not know what she was going to say and was actually relieved to find the office empty. She turned and left, praying that a resolution raised its head before morning.
Back in her own office, she prepared to leave, but Ian Murphy staggered in just as she was about to close the door. He pushed past her; she could smell the liquor on his breath. “Miss Barshtoe,” he slurred. She was disgusted at the sight of him.
“Good Night, Mr. Murphy.” Feeling a certain bravado, she added, “And by the way, your uncle Lord Provost Murphy was here waiting for you and he was not pleased. Have a good night.” With that, she slammed the door and smugly walked down the stairs to the street. Back in the office, perspiration appeared on Ian's forehead and his hands started to shake. He needed a drink.
Back at home, she and Zachariah discussed the situation. “What are you going to do, Jenny? You must be very careful if you intend to impugn someone's reputation. You know that Mr. Johnso
n will want to know where the invoices were found and why it took so long for them to be paid.” Jenny nodded.
“I am not sure what to do, Zachariah. I was going to tell Mr. Johnson everything, but then the Lord Provost visited and told me what a good job I was doing and how they needed people like me. Now I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose this job.”
“The Lord Provost is no fool. He knows what a lay about his nephew is. I am very sure he knows which one of you is doing all the work in that department. Unfortunately, family loyalty dictates that he do whatever he can to keep his nephew in that position.”
“So Mr. Murphy will stay and I will be dismissed, but I didn't do anything wrong. I know he put those invoices in my desk but I can't prove it.” She began to cry. “It just isn't fair.”
“Jenny dear, don't cry. You are not listening. I said that I am sure Lord Provost Murphy knows which one of you is doing all the work. It would be to his, and his nephew's advantage to keep you there as long as possible. What he does not know is whether you would be willing to cover for Mr. Murphy forever.” Jenny looked at Zachariah through her tears; he had a point. Why hadn't she thought of that? She had to ask herself the same question, was she willing to cover for Mr. Murphy? It was going to be a long night waiting for morning.
“I need some fresh air. I think I will walk to the library and return these books.” Jenny kissed Zachariah on the forehead. “Thank you, I don't know what I would do without you and Abigail. You are like my family and I love you both.” The old man smiled at her.
“You are our family, Jenny, and we love you very much. Now go and get some fresh air and don't worry.” Jenny left feeling lighter than she had all day.
In the library, most of the seats were empty and the librarian was impatiently watching the clock. It was one hour until closing. Jenny returned her books and perused the shelves. “Good evening Miss Barstow. At long last I have found you once again.” She turned to find Mr. Mitchell, arms loaded with medical books. The pile looked as if it were about to tumble.
“Can I be of assistance, Mr. Mitchell?” She reached for the four books on top if his pile and they made their way to the table. The large stack of books toppled over, covering the tabletop. “That is quite a bit of reading for one evening, Sir.”
“Actually, I was going to sit and read until you showed up. Do you know I have been here every day looking for you, Miss Barstow?” Jenny blushed a deep crimson. Was he playing with her, or was he really looking for her?
“I am sure you have better things to do than look for me, Mr. Mitchell.”
“Harry, please, call me Harry. May I call you, Jenny?”
“Oh yes please, Jenny will be fine.” She hung her coat on the chair back and sat down. He joined her. “Are you really going to read all of these books?”
“I am doing research on a patient at the infirmary. Being a doctor takes a lot of research I am afraid. How did you enjoy the books about Africa?”
“Marvelous! It was as if I were there. How exciting it must be to travel all over the world. Edinburgh is the farthest I have ever been from Watsworth.”
“And just where is Watsworth?”
“North of London; not very far really.”
“Is that your hometown, Jenny?”
“Yes, I am afraid it is a rather small and boring little village compared to Edinburgh.” The chitchat continued for an hour until finally, the librarian rang the closing bell. Jenny realized the time and reluctantly bid goodbye to Harold.
“May I call on you, Jenny? I would very much like to take you out for a meal. Perhaps tomorrow evening?” Harold held his breath waiting for her answer.
“Oh, yes, Harry. I would like that very much. I live at number five, Rose Street. Thank you, good night.” Jenny was shaking with happiness. Her first social engagement in Edinburgh with a fine gentleman, and it would be tomorrow night.
“Good night, lovely Jenny. I shall call for you tomorrow night at six.” He smiled as he watched her leave; her cheeks were blushing pink. What a combination, intelligence and innocence, he thought as he watched her walk away.
“Lovely Jenny.” She repeated it over and over, all the way back to Rose Street. Ian Murphy and his problems were forgotten for a few hours.
Chapter Nine
Tim McKitterek walked home from the mine as the sun began to rise in the sky. He whistled as he walked, happy to greet another day. Ever since he had recovered from William's death, Tim had become much more appreciative of his life and the rising sun every morning. It meant he was alive and had another chance to experience all that life would give him. He missed William. He even missed his mother, but he knew that she was doing what was best for her and the two youngest children. The air was crisp and cool, but the sun was shining brightly as he walked out of the woods. “Tim, Tim wait up.” He turned in time to see his sister, Megan, coming from the path to the left. Her auburn curls bouncing as she ran.
“Good morning, Megan. Off to work?”
“Yes, it is so nice to be living in the small cottage with three other girls instead of in the big house. I hate that place.” She fell in step with her brother.
“Just be happy you have a job and the sun is shining, Megan.” Tim kicked at a pinecone on the path. It rolled about four feet in front of them.
“My, you are in a good mood. What makes your life so wonderful?” Megan took a turn at kicking the pinecone. It was a game they had played as youngsters.
“I am alive, and so are you my sister, so smile.” Tim tussled her hair.
She jerked away, but a smile crossed her lips. “I think you are smiling because you will spend the evening with Elizabeth Drury.”
“Well, that might have something to do with it. I am going to the dance with her tonight.”
“I wish I could go to the dance, but I have to work in the laundry tonight. I hate that place.” She pouted as she walked along. Tim tried to cheer her up, but it was obvious his sister was not happy. He remembered the first time he had visited Megan in the laundry. Slivers of light filtered through dirty windows in a huge room filled with steam. The sharp smell of disinfectant hung in the air, choking his breath. Many women, both young and old, toiled over huge washtubs with wrinkled hands. Clothes and linen hung from wooden rack; which the women hoisted to the ceiling for drying. It was not the best environment for young Megan.
“Better get going or you will be late. I will see you on Sunday. We will go for a meal together and I might even ask Elizabeth to join us. How about if I ask Sammy from the mine as well? We can make a day of it.” She seemed to lighten up at the mention of Sammy. Tim knew his sister had a huge crush on his mate Sammy. “Good, now get to work.”
“Bye, Tim. Be sure and ask Sammy to come on Sunday.” She turned toward the mansion on the hill with a lighter spring in her step. Tim smiled. He felt good when he made someone smile. He continued his walk, whistling as he went, he thought about his evening with Elizabeth. He was happy to go with her, but she wasn't Jenny. No matter how he tried, Elizabeth, who was very beautiful, was just not his Jenny.
The dance hall was filled to capacity. Tim and Elizabeth were seated at one of the tables in the back of the room. As all of the tables near the dance floor had quickly filled. “Sorry about the table, Elizabeth, but everyone came early for the best tables.”
“This is fine, Tim. I am just happy to be here with you. How is work?” Elizabeth was dressed in a beautiful blue gown that accentuated her curves. She fluttered her dark lashes in his direction and Tim could not help, but think how beautiful she was. He didn't want to talk about his job.
“May I have this dance?” She accepted his outstretched hand happily. The two spent most of the night on the dance floor and Tim enjoyed himself very much. Elizabeth was easy to talk to. As the evening was coming to a close, he walked her home.
“Look how the moon glistens on the church steeple. It is so beautiful.” Elizabeth pointed to the shiny steeple, glistening against the dark sky.
“Oh my, how dangerous. However did you do it?” Elizabeth gave Tim her full attention.
“We just used the stones as hand and footholds, it was hard, but we were determined. Why I could not believe it when Jenny beat me to the top.” Tim laughed at the memory of him and Jenny clambering up the side of the church steeple.“She was a champion, our Jenny.” Tim laughed again, but he saw the Elizabeth's expression had changed. Why had he mentioned Jenny? What was wrong with him?
“I am sure she was very good at everything. I was always afraid of such things.” Elizabeth's tone was reserved; Tim knew he had made a mistake. Determined to rescue the evening, he turned to Elizabeth.
“Yes, Jenny could do most things well. Her courage and tenacity took her to Edinburgh to find a new life. I, however, am still in Watsworth with the most beautiful girl in town.” The flattery worked. Tim watched as Elizabeth smiled, first with her lips, and then the smile reached her eyes. He tipped her chin towards him and kissed her lips. She didn't move waiting for him to repeat the gesture.
“Good night, Elizabeth.” Tim ushered her to her door and waited for her to disappear behind it. He stepped into the street. “Good night, beautiful Elizabeth” he repeated to the night sky, “Good Night, Jenny my love, wherever you are.”
Sunday proved to be a very enjoyable day. Tim, Elizabeth, Megan and Sammy enjoyed a lovely wagon ride out in the country. The autumn air was fresh and clean. They stopped at the top of a hill where they could see the surrounding countryside. The view was spectacular. A patchwork quilt of greens and yellows spread out over the valley below, a tiny river meandered through the valley. The girls had prepared a picnic lunch, and the four friends laughed and enjoyed the afternoon together. Tim felt relaxed and invigorated after the outing. He was pleased to see that Sammy appeared as enchanted with Megan as she was with him because Tim wanted to see his sister smile again.