by Val Wood
‘You thought I’d forget? No, I remember everything we spoke about – including my embarrassment over my sister Mary and her doll.’
‘Bella.’ She laughed.
‘Yes.’ He laughed too. ‘And it really was my father who selected the name.’ His voice dropped. ‘But it’s true. The name was well chosen.’
Bella blushed, but her mother came in again to ask her something, and Jamie said that he must not take up any more of their time.
‘You must come again, doctor,’ Sarah said. ‘And you don’t need to wait until anyone is ill before you do.’
Bella took him through the saloon to the reception area and he thanked her for lunch.
‘May I really come again?’ he asked. ‘I’d like to. We’ve much to catch up on after so many years.’ He glanced back into the saloon through the stained-glass partition. ‘You have made this into a thriving business.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ve to pinch myself sometimes to remind me of how it was when we first came.’
Impulsively he took hold of her hand and she didn’t pull away. ‘You’re an enterprising and successful young woman. You should be very proud.’ And he wanted to say, I am but a poor doctor, and unworthy of you.
‘I’m not proud,’ she said. ‘We’ve had good fortune, but we’ve all worked hard for it.’
He’d called again just a few days later to ask if she could spare a few minutes for him to speak to her. She was sitting at the small desk in reception, looking over an appointment book.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Of course I can. I’m just looking at our bookings. Visitors have written to say they’d like to come and stay during the week before Christmas.’ She laughed, gleefully. ‘But we’re fully booked!’
‘Then I won’t keep you long, but I have to tell someone my news!’ He saw her warm expression and felt he could tell her anything, and went on, ‘I’ve been offered a post as junior surgeon at the General Infirmary, and it will fit in well with Dr Birchfield who’s offered me a position as a partner!’
‘That’s wonderful!’ she exclaimed. ‘And – and are you happy to stay here in Hull? Are there as many opportunities here as there would be in London?’
He gazed at her. ‘I hope there are many opportunities, and I’m sure I could be very happy here.’
He pondered; should he tell her that he was a poor man with little to offer? Would she wonder what that had to do with her? They had only recently met again, so why would she assume anything from him but friendship? Yet we have so much in common, despite our different backgrounds.
He gazed at her as she was about to speak, watched the way her soft mouth turned up at the corners, the dimple in her cheeks as she smiled, the open honesty in her eyes that would never deceive. How can I tell her of my feelings for her when I can’t understand or describe them to myself?
‘But you’ve good prospects, haven’t you?’ We are much the same, she thought. He has had to work hard for his achievements and in spite of parental opposition, from what I recall, and yet – and yet he seems to have an inner strength even though he has a yielding and considerate manner.
She stood up from the desk and placed her fingers along the top as if to steady her, tapping them as she considered what she was about to say. Her voice was husky as she spoke and she kept her eyes lowered.
‘Although as a family we’ve never been wealthy, we’ve been fortunate to have always had a good living, with enough to eat and a roof over our heads. But now.’ She raised her eyes to his. ‘Now, I have good fortune; but it – it will mean nothing at all if I can’t have what I truly want; and that is – someone special in my life.’
He lifted her fingers and held them firmly in his hands to stop their fluttering. ‘I love you, Bella.’ His voice was low and tender and he was surprised at how easy it was to say the words he had been searching for. ‘It’s perhaps too soon to say what I hope for, for we’ve had little time to get to know each other again; but I think I’ve always loved you, ever since I first saw you, and I always will. But I’m a poor doctor with nothing yet to offer you.’
Her face seemed to light up from within as she said softly, ‘It’s not too soon, Jamie, and we have a lifetime to get to know each other.’ Her lips parted in a wide smile as she added, ‘And I’m a rich innkeeper, doctor, with plenty to offer you.’
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
‘IF ONNY YOU’D been home a couple o’ days earlier, William.’ Sarah clasped her hands together. ‘Never did I think I’d see ’queen of England with my own eyes. Everybody’s still talking about it. It’s made such a difference to ’town.’
William nodded absentmindedly. He’d heard this from his mother many times since his discharge from the infirmary, but it was more important to him that it was Dr Lucan, under the watchful eye of a senior surgeon, who had removed the last of the shot from his foot, buried too deep for his late colleague Dr Hunt to take out without anaesthetic in the harsh conditions of the Scutari hospital.
Dr Lucan had said that he should still use his crutches for his broken knee until his injured foot was healed, and he had assured William that he would walk with barely a limp. He had also suggested that Henry should have a specially built-up boot to relieve the ache in his shorter leg of which the child complained. Henry had now announced that he wasn’t going to be a singer after all, but had decided to be a doctor, to which his mother had replied that one singer in the family was enough anyway.
Sarah was still talking of the queen’s visit and the banquet at the Station Hotel and the mayor who had been honoured by Her Majesty’s knighting him so unexpectedly.
‘It says here,’ she picked up a newspaper, ‘that she ordered ’mayor to kneel in front of her, tapped him on the shoulders with a sword and said, “Rise, Sir Henry Cooper.” What about that, eh?’
William grunted, not really listening; he hadn’t felt well enough previously to comprehend his mother’s enthusiasm, even though he’d sworn to fight for queen and country in his army career. He wasn’t exactly disillusioned, but he now had a different view on life and considered the war in the Crimea, in which he had willingly taken part, to have been a catastrophe, even though it was being hailed as a victory by politicians and reported as such in the newspapers.
When I’m up and about and running my own business, which all being well will be in ’New Year, then I’ll mebbe think differently, he thought. His plans were coming to fruition simply because he’d told Dr Lucan of his ideas, and he in turn had mentioned them to Dr Birchfield, who had advised him of a house in Jarratt Street, close to Albion Street, owned by a respectable widow who took in lodgers, and who by chance had an unused workshop and yard at the back of the house.
He was also going to take on the extra help, if ever he became exceptionally busy, of Bob Hopkins, who knew how to handle horses, and had decided that in the New Year he would risk coming to live in town when he was offered the position of driver of the brougham to the doctors Birchfield and Lucan, the latter of whom he still thought of as Master Jamie.
‘And then, of course, our Henry sang for Her Majesty,’ his mother concluded, ‘and he said he was sure that she smiled at him, and then after that, ’cavalcade went right through ’town and that’s when we saw her, didn’t we, Bella, cos she came down Paragon Street, an’ then after that they boarded ’royal yacht and sailed right round ’ring o’ town docks and came out near ’pier.’ Sarah peered at the newspaper again. ‘And made their departure.’
‘Well, Ma,’ William said, and cast a grin across at Bella who was sewing a button on one of his shirts. ‘You’ve described it so well I feel as if I was there meself.’ He sighed theatrically. ‘An’ I just missed it!’
He thought of his journey back home and how grateful he was to Dr Lucan, who called constantly to ask how he was, though it seemed to him he was becoming rather sweet on Bella. He glanced again at his sister, who had a little smile on her lips. Turned out that he’d met her before at some time. William vaguely recalled Joe rag
ging Bella about some toff, and yes, didn’t I say he was just a schoolboy? We were all just bairns anyway.
But there’s summat going on, he observed. I can tell by her eyes, and she’s all smiley. But that’s all right, he decided. I’d welcome Dr Jamie as a brother-in-law, and as I’ll be moving out he could have my room for his medical books and stuff, that’s if it ever comes to owt.
CHAPTER FIFTY
JAMIE RECEIVED A letter from Mrs Greenwood. Within the large envelope was another, sealed and waxed with his father’s seal and addressed to his lawyer Smithers.
Mrs Greenwood had written: ‘After your father’s funeral I washed and dried all the bedding and put it away, and then asked one of the maids to help me turn the mattress on his bed. You perhaps wouldn’t have known that your father liked a firm bed and had placed a board beneath the mattress; it’s been there for many a year. When we turned over the mattress, I found the enclosed envelope in the middle of the board. As I don’t have Mr Smithers’s address, I’m sending it on to you to forward to him. Your brother is presently on his honeymoon following his marriage by special licence, otherwise I would have given it to him.
‘I might be speaking out of turn, Dr Lucan, but I feel that I should mention that shortly after Master Felix called in the young lawyer when your father was unwell and not at all himself, Mr Lucan, your father that is, on one of his better days, asked me to witness his signature on a deed, and said to me that he intended to put things right. I didn’t know what he meant and he didn’t ask me to post anything and I never saw the document again; I’m guessing but I think perhaps this might be the same document, as I never saw him put pen to paper again, God rest his soul.
‘Bob Hopkins told me where you were staying, but didn’t know if it was to be a permanent address so I’m sending it post-haste. I hope it arrives safely.
‘We’re all sad here, missing your father and all of you but looking back on a good life. We must hope for the best and trust that it turns out well for us all.
‘I send my best wishes for your future.’
She had signed herself ‘Mrs Amelia Greenwood’. Amelia, Jamie had thought. I never knew that was Mrs Greenwood’s name. He turned over the sealed envelope in his hands. I wonder what it contains. He had an appointment booked with Smithers on the following Monday to discuss the terms of his father’s Will and decided to take the envelope with him rather than sending it by post.
On Monday, Jamie discovered that Smithers had been furious over the new conditions in the Will. His junior, Binks, had told him that Roger Lucan wished to make changes to his Will, and he had asked Binks to ride out to Holderness to deal with it, as he himself was busy with a complicated lawsuit. Binks had told him on his return that there were only minor changes, and he was shocked to hear that Roger Lucan had died so suddenly just a few weeks later. After going over the Will he had called Binks in and discovered that it was Felix, the eldest son, who had written to say his father wished to change his Will, and that Roger Lucan had simply signed at the place indicated.
‘Although I was surprised, as I felt it had previously been set in stone, there was nothing I could do, unless the Will was challenged. And you can do so, if you wish,’ he’d added, ‘though it might take years.’
‘I’ve decided that I will do so,’ Jamie told him. ‘For my sisters as much as anyone.’ And then Jamie handed Smithers the envelope sent to him by Mrs Greenwood.
Smithers called for coffee to be brought in whilst he perused the papers, and Jamie watched as the lawyer frowned, shook his head, silently muttered and occasionally looked up at him with a bemused expression.
‘This puts an entirely different complexion on matters,’ he said eventually, ‘and I must discuss it with my partner, and also have further words with Binks, who I’m afraid might have overstepped the line. This’ – he looked down at the document – ‘this Amelia Greenwood, do you know her?’
‘Why, yes. She’s been in my father’s employ since my mother’s day. A most loyal servant.’
‘And nothing to gain from the Will?’
Jamie shook his head. ‘No. An appropriate amount perhaps.’
The lawyer sat back in his chair. ‘Well, in this codicil, your father claims that he wishes the original Will which was drawn up some years ago to be strictly adhered to, and adds that the Lucan estate shall not be sold for at least ten years after his death, shall be run by a member of the Lucan family or let to a suitable person chosen by both his sons, and the proceeds from it shall belong to his daughters, Frances and Mary Lucan.’
Jamie was astonished, and yet felt hugely relieved and vindicated. But then he said, ‘But the estate has been sold.’
‘Has money changed hands? I haven’t had any paperwork and it would have to come through me as I hold the deeds.’
Jamie didn’t know, but guessed that it might have done unless Felix had borrowed money on the strength of the sale; how else would he have afforded the carriage that Bob Hopkins described?
He told Smithers about the carriage and pair, and the lawyer gave a cynical smile. ‘If he has married already then it is of no consequence: his wife will have to pay for it. It cannot come out of your father’s estate.’
Smithers stood up from his desk and extended his hand. ‘Thank you for coming, Dr Lucan, and might I add my congratulations on your medical achievement. I think I can safely say that we can reverse and conclude this debacle to everyone’s satisfaction. Your brother may put in an objection, of course, but as he will still be the major inheritor I feel that he might let it pass; it would not do for a scandal to blight his marriage.’
Christmas week at the Maritime was extremely busy and they closed only for Christmas Day, a large part of which was spent in discussion of Nell’s latest letter, in which she told them she was going to be married to a tavern keeper and they would open the tavern as a music hall, which was to be the very latest entertainment.
Bella, however, had long decided that they would close to the public on New Year’s Day, and hold a special private dinner. Those invited were Dr Lucan who, it had been noticed by all, had been seen walking out regularly with Miss Bella, Dr Birchfield, and Reuben of course, who had been unofficially declared a father figure to Bella, a figurative grandfather to Henry and a good friend to Sarah. Also coming were Joe and Alice and their baby girl Victoria, named in honour of the queen. William, who had now abandoned his crutches, would be there; and Carter and Adam were going to help serve the meal and dine with them.
On the day, Reuben and Dr Birchfield arrived a little early. They had been friends for many years, ever since the doctor had left his country practice and had come to live in Hull. They sat comfortably and at ease by a roaring fire in the saloon, each with a large brandy bowl in his hand, swirling the golden liquid as they talked and waited for luncheon.
‘I have a feeling that today, the first day of the New Year, might be a momentous one,’ Reuben murmured.
‘Mm, how come?’ Birchfield reached for yesterday’s newspaper. ‘The Times correspondent says it’s still bad at Sevastopol. I wonder how the citizens can survive under such a siege.’
‘Ja, it’s to be hoped that the war can be resolved soon,’ Reuben agreed. ‘There have been many British lives lost this winter. Conditions are bad for all sides. I’ve no love for the Russian politicians or generals, but the soldiers are ordinary men just as ours are.’ He nosed the brandy, enjoying the aroma. ‘But I was not thinking about abroad, but of something nearer home.’
Carter, in a smart black jacket, shirt and trousers, came across from the bar counter and asked if they would like another brandy; they both tipped their heads back to finish what they had and agreed they would.
‘Excellent.’ Birchfield handed over his glass.
‘Yes, sir.’ Carter nodded politely. ‘Onny ’best for ’Maritime.’
Jamie came in through the front door. The shoulders of his greatcoat were sprinkled with snow and he was rubbing his gloved hands together. ‘My word
but it’s cold.’
‘How did you get on with the birthing?’ Birchfield asked him.
‘A boy.’ Jamie grinned. It was his first birth, and a breech. ‘Fortunately it was the mother’s sixth child and after I’d turned it she needed little help from me after all, in spite of calling me out.’
‘I was just saying to Birchfield here,’ Reuben eyed Jamie intently, ‘that I thought today would be a momentous one.’
‘Really? The start of a New Year should be, I suppose,’ Jamie replied nonchalantly, though his eyes creased humorously. ‘Excuse me, I’ll just hang up my wet coat and greet our hostess.’
The two men gazed after him as he crossed the room and went through the door into the private area.
‘I knew the Lucan family very well,’ Dr Birchfield murmured. ‘I think I might have mentioned it.’
‘You did,’ Reuben replied. ‘Several times,’ and turning his gaze to the fire, he sighed.
‘He’s very like his mother,’ the doctor continued. ‘Warm, thoughtful, all her attributes.’
Reuben nodded pensively and sipped his brandy. When the door opened again he looked up. Jamie followed Bella through into the saloon.
The two older men gazed at Bella. She was wearing a gown of deep rose and her thick dark hair, normally kept in check at the nape of her neck, tumbled about her soft and dimpled cheeks and on to her discreetly bare shoulders. Her eyes were bright yet tender and winsome, and her lips parted in an uplifted smile as she came towards them, her gaze alighting on Reuben.
‘I was just saying to Reuben,’ Dr Birchfield said softly, ‘that I knew Dr Lucan’s mother. Did you know that?’
Bella nodded. ‘Dr Lucan has spoken of it.’
‘She was a very beautiful woman.’
‘Was she?’
‘Very beautiful; in her features and in her spirit.’
The doctor’s eyes never left Bella’s face and Reuben, following his gaze, murmured, ‘Aber ja! Yes, indeed!’