Stay with Me

by Jessica Blair

  ‘There she is, Peter!’ cried Lena excitedly. ‘Isn’t she beautiful? ’

  He smiled at her enthusiasm and obvious love for this vessel, a love that in fact extended to anything sailing the seas. ‘Almost as beautiful as you,’ he whispered, close to her ear.

  Lena smiled at him. ‘Father would have been so proud of her.’ She concentrated on taking in every detail as she watched the John Carnforth draw nearer and nearer.

  ‘He’s there!’ Her voice was low but its sharpness jolted Peter.

  ‘What?’

  ‘James . . . by the rail . . . he and Ralph.’ Her face tightened. ‘Why did he have to come? There was no need, was there?’

  ‘Not so far as I was concerned. Maybe he’s come to offer an olive branch?’

  ‘Not very likely.’ She sighed.

  ‘Give him a chance if he does.’ Peter took her hand and started along the quay. Lena would have pulled away and left, but, guessing she might do this, he gripped her hand tighter.

  The vessel was brought skilfully to the quayside. Immediately the gangway was run out, James strode purposefully down it.

  Peter held out his hand in greeting but James refused it.

  ‘I trust you had a good voyage?’ Peter said courteously.

  ‘We did,’ was the terse reply. ‘Everything is in order as per our contract. The ship is now in the hands of Captain Webb. Negotiate any instructions regarding the voyage with him.’ He showed no sign of acknowledging his sister.

  ‘Sir,’ said Peter sharply and with some contempt, ‘do you blatantly ignore a lady?’

  ‘Who?’ rapped James.

  ‘Me!’ Lena challenged him. She was glad of Peter’s reproof to him but would do her own talking.

  ‘Oh, you,’ said her brother with derision.

  ‘Yes, me! Come now, brother, can we not be civil at least. Tell me, how is Olivia?’

  ‘Olivia? You feel concern for her then?’

  ‘Yes, I do. She was my dearest friend.’

  ‘Ah, you use the right word - was. She gave me a message in case I saw you.’

  ‘And you weren’t going to give it me?

  ‘Oh, yes, I was, because you deserve to hear it. She wants nothing more to do with you, ever.’ He smirked to see her pained expression then.

  Even though it was what she might have expected, Lena had retained the smallest of hope of a reconciliation with Olivia at least, but now her hopes were dashed. It was a grievous blow and left her in the mood for retaliation.

  ‘As I told you before,’ James announced haughtily, ‘keep away from Whitby, and don’t ever come near my firm - there’ll be no more dealings between Hustwick’s and Carnforth’s.’

  ‘Your firm?’ Lena’s voice rose. ‘You’re no true Carnforth, and never can be. But one day the firm you ursurped will come back to its rightful owner - the last true-blooded Carnforth!’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Three weeks later, on the day of the John Carnforth’s expected return to Whitby, her mission for Hustwick’s completed, Jude had been posted on the cliff as a lookout. After making a positive identification of the ship, bearing in towards Whitby, he raced though the streets to the office. His sudden appearance brought everyone to their feet. The clerks hesitated, but as James and Ralph rushed out they called to the men to leave their work if they wished. They needed no second bidding and hurried to the quay where they knew the ship would dock.

  But James and Ralph could not wait that long. They dodged their way quickly between the folk on Church Street and, panting hard, climbed the one hundred and ninety-nine steps to the cliff top. They hurried through the churchyard without giving the ancient building beside it a second glance. Even the magnificence of the ruined abbey was lost on them today. Gulping in air, they stood on the edge of the cliff.

  ‘She’s a grand sight,’ gasped Ralph.

  ‘Aye, she is that,’ panted James.

  Neither of them spoke again as they recovered from their exertions but both thought them well worthwhile so as to get this view of the John Carnforth.

  They watched the vessel manoeuvre towards the narrow gap between the piers, admiring the way the sailors responded to Captain Webb’s orders. For a breathless moment it seemed she would collide with the West Pier, but then she was through the gap and leaving the fast-running sea for the calm of the river.

  ‘Come on,’ called James.

  They headed back the way they had come and were at the quay as the ship was skilfully brought through the swing bridge. News of the sighting of the John Carnforth had swept through Whitby and already there was a considerable gathering on the quayside: wives to greet husbands, mothers to welcome sons, girls to meet sweethearts, others to find one - if only for the day - old sailors reviving memories of their time on similar ships, and sightseers proud of Whitby’s maritime heritage. James and Ralph made their way to the spot where they judged the gangway would be run out. As soon as it was they were on board, greeting Captain Webb.

  ‘Welcome home!’ said James. ‘How did she handle?’

  ‘Never had better, sir.’

  James’s face lit up with delight, and when he turned to Ralph he saw his manager too had a huge grin on his face.

  ‘Sir, I took the liberty while in Hull of taking on board a cargo of a hundred cases of Spanish wine, so the return voyage here would bring some profit.’

  ‘Good man!’ cried James. ‘A case for each of us and two bottles for every crew member. This is a memorable occasion. See to it, Captain. And, as I promised you earlier, command of the John Carnforth is yours, if you want it?’

  ‘You don’t have ask me again, sir.’ Captain Webb’s chest swelled with pride and satisfaction. ‘I have the paperwork connected with the voyage here.’ He held out a folder.

  ‘Thank you, I’ll take that,’ said Ralph. He glanced at James. ‘I’ll return to the office and deal with it.’ Turning back to Captain Webb, he said, ‘If you come there when you are ready, we can have a preliminary discussion about your next voyage and then tomorrow we’ll talk further with Mr Carnforth. In the meantime, sign the crew off for a week.’

  Ralph took his leave. When he was out of earshot James said, ‘Did you see anything of Mr Hustwick when you were in Hull?’

  ‘Oh, yes, sir. He was there when we arrived and delighted with the cargo, though I thought him not too sure of its storage and onward sale. He appeared to be uncertain where the sale documents were - if, indeed a sale had been arranged.’

  James nodded thoughtfully. ‘I know his father was the king-pin. It seems he must have kept much to himself.’

  ‘That could be the way of it. I spoke with several captains while we were there and most of them were wondering how Hustwick’s would fare now. All were of the opinion that the father ran the firm and kept his son in the dark. Maybe a case of easier to do it yourself.’

  James chose not to return to the office immediately; instead he crossed the bridge and strolled along Pier Road towards the West Pier. There he hoped the fresh wind would clear his mind so he could weigh up Captain Webb’s observations and decide on his next course of action. But for now his impending wedding would take up much of his time.

  Three days later he and Olivia settled down to compile a list of people to be invited. When that was done it would be passed to her mother and father for their considerations and additions.

  ‘Well, that seems to be that,’ said James with some satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the sheaf of paper lying on the table in front of them, but Olivia detected a note of hesitation in his voice.

  ‘Something the matter?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ he replied, but she knew that was untrue.

  ‘Yes, there is,’ she said firmly. ‘If you have something to say, say it.’ She studied him carefully.

  His eyes met hers but still he hesitated.

  ‘It’s Lena, isn’t it?’ she said quietly.

  He bit his lip. ‘Yes.’

  ‘You want t
o invite her?’

  ‘She is my sister.’

  ‘Half-sister, I’ll remind you,’ said Olivia tersely. Her voice hardened. ‘How can you even consider it after what she did to Alistair? The scandal!’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘There are no buts!’ she rapped. ‘If you go any further with such foolishness we might as well tear up the wedding invitations now.’

  The determination in her eyes and voice startled him. This was an Olivia he had not witnessed before but he found it did not detract from his love for her. Instead he felt admiration and knew, then and there, that Lena would never be part of his life again.

  Two months later when Peter came to Greta’s for his evening meal as usual, he handed a copy of the Yorkshire Post to Lena. ‘There is something on page three you might like to read.’

  She looked at him askance as she took the paper and then found the page.

  ‘“Notable Whitby Merchant and Ship Owner Marries”,’ she read.

  ‘So they’ve done it,’ she whispered, and quickly scanned the report. She laid the paper down without saying another word.

  ‘They didn’t even offer an olive branch by inviting you,’ said Peter regretfully.

  ‘I hoped for it, but didn’t expect them to,’ she responded, then added slowly, ‘not after what I said to James at our last parting.’

  Remembering that, Peter felt uneasy for a moment but said nothing about it to his fiancée.

  ‘I’m sorry James made no attempt at a reconciliation with Lena by inviting her to the wedding,’ commented Dr MacBride to his wife as they prepared to leave Whitby for home. ‘Maybe I should have tried to intervene.’

  ‘There’s nothing you could have done. It is their affair. They are both old enough to know what they are doing,’ his wife replied.

  ‘I know, but I feel a certain reponsibility after the loss of their parents.’

  ‘Well, if it eases your mind, think instead of some good coming from this rift,’ Mary pointed out.

  ‘Some good?’ Martin looked puzzled.

  Mary gave a little chuckle. ‘You men don’t see what is happening under your noses. Avril and Alistair.’

  ‘Our Avril?’

  ‘Yes, our Avril. She made a lovely bridesmaid and he was most attentive to her.’

  ‘Well, it was his duty as best man to see to all the brides-maids’ comfort.’

  ‘True, but he was extra-attentive to Avril.’

  ‘Well, we shall see. I wonder if Lena and Peter . . .’ He left the question hanging wistfully in the air.

  Mary came to him then and slid her arms around him. ‘Martin, don’t worry about her. If I judge Lena correctly, she’ll look after herself. Think about your own daughter.’

  ‘You look worried, Peter,’ said Lena when he arrived at the house on Anlaby Road one evening.

  He sighed and threw himself into a chair. ‘I don’t seem able to get on top of things at work. Why did Father want to do everything himself?’

  ‘Maybe it was his way of trying to deal with the tragedy of losing a wife - throwing himself into his business affairs.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘And maybe he had the mistaken idea that he shouldn’t burden you with too much.’

  ‘I wish he had, it would have made things far easier now. I think I’ll have to get someone in, appoint an experienced manager, to sort things out.’

  ‘Let me help,’ Lena offered swiftly

  ‘You?’

  ‘Yes. Why not? My father gave me a good grounding.’

  ‘But . . .’ He hesitated.

  ‘You are going to say that I am a woman? What does that matter? Women are starting to be accepted in many roles from which they were once excluded, so why shouldn’t I help you?’

  ‘The other merchants in Hull will frown upon a woman entering their domain.’

  ‘Then cock a snook at them! Employ me and together we’ll show them they ignore us at their peril.’ Lena’s voice had become charged with excitement.

  ‘I believe you really mean this.’

  ‘Of course I do!’

  He stared at her for a moment, seeing once more the vibrant young woman who had defied convention to run away with him. She deserved this chance to show her brother he shouldn’t have shut her out of Carnforth’s. Peter had always felt her father had erred in making his Will the way he had.

  He pushed himself from his chair and held out his hands to her. Lena took them in hers and he pulled her to her feet and clasped her to him. ‘We’ll start together tomorrow.’

  Her eyes brightened. ‘We will?’

  ‘Yes.’

  The kiss she gave him was full of promise. ‘Thank you, Peter.’

  ‘I love you, Lena Carnforth.’

  ‘And I you.’

  When she lay down in bed that night Lena hugged herself for joy. She had taken the first step on the road she wanted to travel but knew she would have to tread carefully from now on. Peter was no simpleton. His ambition had merely been thwarted by his father. She would see about changing his attitude, but she knew she must go about it gradually.

  The following morning, Greta was surprised when Lena announced Peter would be calling to take her to the office.

  ‘He thinks the experience I gained with my father might help unravel some of the problems left by his father’s death.’

  ‘Yes, there were times when he kept Peter in the dark. It has been a worry for him so I hope you can be of assistance. Be wary of his rivals, though. Most of them view a woman’s role as running the home, seeing to her husband’s needs and those of her family.’

  ‘Well, Lena Carnforth may just make them think twice about that.’

  Hustwick’s office occupied two floors of a building close to the docks. While they approached it Lena had taken in the atmosphere of the area and immediately felt elated. There was a vitality about it: carts clattered on the cobbles, orders were shouted, jocular exchanges made, disputes noisily conducted. The setting to all this thrilled her. She could see vessels at quays, masts soaring heavenwards; warehouse doors standing open, ready to receive or dispatch. Lena’s steps quickened. It was so good to be in her old world again.

  Two rooms on the ground floor were unoccupied. When Lena queried this, Peter informed her that his father had dispensed with the firm’s two clerks, preferring to do the record-keeping himself.

  ‘He took on too much. The burden of it, together with his mode of living, took its toll. No wonder he chose not to expand the business, he would never have managed more on his own. And because he wanted to do it all, he saw no reason to involve you. Well, that will have to change,’ she announced.

  Peter nodded. The authoritative note in Lena’s voice pleased him; it meant there was someone else to share the responsibility. ‘Let me show you upstairs.’

  There were two more rooms overlooking the docks, each furnished with large oak desks and the appropriate chairs, two armchairs, a small side table and cabinet. Paintings depicting the great whaling days of Hull hung on the walls.

  Lena nodded with satisfaction. ‘Ideal,’ she commented. ‘It is a question of what you want to do, Peter. I can see great opportunities here but it is up to you how far you wish to go.’ She knew exactly how far she would like to go but she was wary of pressing her opinion too hard; she must make it appear that all the decisions were his.

  ‘I do see that things will need sorting out. To be put on a solid manageable footing that we can cope with.’

  Lena was pleased to hear him say ‘we’. ‘Right, I suggest you have one of these offices.’

  ‘And you the other,’ he put in quickly.

  ‘If that is what you want?’ She was inwardly delighted at his offer. ‘Now, I think you had better engage two clerks - those who were employed here before, if possible. They will know what is required of them. One room downstairs is already equipped for clerical work. The other, I think, should be used by the manager whom you will appoint. You will need to leave someone in authority w
hen you are not here, so choose carefully. Of course, these appointments, which I do think are necessary, will depend on the financial situation.’

  ‘Then you’d better see the ledgers. We’ll have to go downstairs.’ Peter led the way down to the clerks’ office and unlocked a cupboard from which he took two big leatherbound ledgers.

  Lena perused the pages quickly, concentrating primarily on the entries for the last six months. Her father had schooled her well in ledger-work and she soon discerned that the firm was in a healthy position financially, something she would be able to verify later with the bank; the leading one in Hull, Peter told her.

  ‘Everything appears to be sound, but I am surprised there is no entry for the sale of the timber the John Carnforth returned from the Baltic. I understood from your father’s dealings with my brother that he had a customer for it.’

  ‘I was under that impression, too, but can’t find any paperwork relating to it.’

  ‘And no one has come forward enquiring about it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So that timber is still in storage somewhere in the docks?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Your warehouse?’

  ‘No, we have no warehouse of our own.’

  ‘So you are paying for storage?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Lena was appalled. Goods that should have made money were costing them instead. ‘The first thing you must do is sell that timber. Go out and find a buyer, the sooner the better. Today if you can.’ Then she added to ease any notion that she was dictating to him, ‘You’ve had a trying time, Peter. It has not been easy for you to assimilate some aspects of running this firm after your father kept you in the dark so long. It was natural to think he had a customer for the timber but since no one has come forward to claim it by now, I think you had better sell.’

  ‘It will be my priority.’

  ‘Good. Now can we check with your bank that my assessment of the financial situation is correct?’

  They left the building and Lena was soon assured that her interpretation was correct.

  As they left the bank she said, ‘Sell that timber and you will be in a very healthy position financially.’ She wanted to add, It could open up all sorts of other possibilities, but she kept quiet - time enough for that later.