Mayfair Rebel

by Mayfair Rebel (retail) (epub)

  ‘But it is, isn’t it?’ May looked up at him.

  He smiled down. ‘Yes, I suppose it is, but the journey ended amongst iron sheds, with freezing Lascars huddled against the wind – and it was raining.’ He laughed. ‘It was January, and over twenty years ago, Miss Winton.’

  ‘So was it a terrible disappointment?’ May felt sorry for the starry-eyed eight year old, cold in the wind and rain on a bleak quayside.

  He recognised her concern, and said reassuringly, ‘Indeed it wasn’t. How could any normal small boy be disappointed at all this?’ He gestured to encompass the lively scene in front of them. ‘But my most dramatic memory is from later. We came here once – I was at Eton by then – and they were unloading animals for London Zoo. It was an incredible sight, Miss Winton, the moving of those exotic creatures. There were lions and leopards, and a puma, I think, all snarling and growling with rage at being swung high over the side of the ship and onto the quay.’

  ‘My goodness,’ May exclaimed. ‘Weren’t you awfully frightened?’

  Walter grinned at her. ‘They were in cages, of course, Miss Winton.’

  Archie burst out into loud guffaws at her confusion. ‘That’s typical of you, May – she’s got a vivid imagination, my cousin, Tate. She’ll have been thinking that the sailors played catch and chase round the decks, dodging wild beasts all the way from India.’

  Walter said softly, ‘Fortunately no one threatened to throw me to the lions, then.’ He laughed at her blushes. May pinched the arm she was holding in revenge until he said, ‘It was “pax”, Miss Winton, remember? Come along, we’ve got lots more to see.’

  They threaded through the men wheeling trucks along the side of the dock. One of them called, ‘Afternoon, Nurse,’ and May recognised a former patient and cried a quick greeting back.

  Archie was insistent. ‘Can’t we go on board?’

  Walter nodded. ‘But not this one, down here – I arranged it this morning.’

  The ship of Walter’s choice seemed no different from the ones on either side, but he led them purposefully to it – ‘The captain’s expecting us.’ A man in a peaked cap came forward to meet them. He shook them by the hand, looking searchingly at May as they were introduced; she supposed lady visitors were less usual.

  ‘I’ll take you round my ship – mind your hats, gentlemen, it’s low in places.’

  They began their tour below, in the hot, sulphurous-smelling engine room. May insisted that she was quite capable of climbing down the narrow iron ladder. She glanced down as she made her descent and derived a naughty pleasure from seeing the dilemma of Walter Lisle, waiting at the bottom to help her off the last high rung. He was obviously anxious to watch that she was finding her footholds safely, yet trying at the same time to look as if he were not also catching glimpses of her shapely calves in their sheer black silk. May was glad she had given some thought to her stockings. But of course Archie had to put his foot in it by calling, just as Walter lifted up his arms to her at the bottom, ‘I hope you remembered your best red flannel petticoat today, May.’ Walter’s face was a picture as he caught her neatly and deposited her very quickly on the iron plates of the deck.

  They met the engineer and admired the massive, highly-polished machinery, obviously his pride and joy, then they climbed up the ladder again, Walter insisting on following the captain, so that Archie had to help May from the rear. Not that May needed much help: she was thoroughly relaxed now and moved about the ship as confidently as though it were Elizabeth Ward.

  Before mounting to the bridge the captain glanced at Walter, and when he nodded said, ‘I’ve something to show you, especially, Miss Winton. Look on the bulkhead.’ He pointed to a brass plate. Obediently May looked up and read it, then started in surprise.

  ‘The young gentleman told me you were Joseph Frears’ granddaughter – this is a Frears ship, you see. It’s nice and tight; your granddad built some bonny vessels.’

  Walter’s face was aglow with pleasure at May’s delight.

  Archie said, ‘You’ve arranged a neat little surprise there, Tate. Lucky there was one in today.’

  The captain laughed. ‘It’s likely enough, it’s the biggest Tyneside yard. Now I must show you the bridge, then perhaps the young lady would like a cup of tea?’

  The tea, when it came, was very hot and a dark teak colour. The captain was apologetic.

  ‘I told the lad to make it weaker for a lady, but you know what these boys are like – cook’s ashore.’

  May smiled at him and sipped the bitter brew. ‘It’s exactly what I’m used to: hospital tea is notorious for its strength.’

  The captain’s face was puzzled. Walter said, in explanation, ‘Miss Winton is a nurse at St Katharine’s, just opposite the main Dock Gate.’

  The captain dropped his cup with a splash and said, ‘Well, I’ll be danged – if you’ll pardon the expression Miss – but I…’ Then he recovered himself with an effort and said, ‘I know St Katharine’s well enough, I was in there only yesterday visiting one of my lads who’d ruptured himself, if you’ll excuse me, Miss, – but of course, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Screaming in agony he was, strangled something, they said.’

  ‘Strangulated hernia,’ May said. ‘We get a lot of cases round here, because of the heavy work. Which ward is he in?’

  ‘Simeon, with a big Sister, very bossy she was, ordering all the nurses around.’

  May exclaimed, ‘That was my first ward! But all Sisters are like that, you know, it’s their job.’

  Archie said, ‘And May’s been practising all her life – I feel sorry for your patients, May, I really do.’

  The captain and Walter Lisle rounded on him simultaneously. ‘The jobs these young ladies do, I couldn’t stomach ’em myself – I take my hat off to ’em,’ while Walter cried indignantly, ‘May’s patients are very lucky, I envy them, Archie!’ Then he went pink with embarrassment and asked quickly, ‘Have you finished your tea yet, Miss Winton? Captain Soames is a busy man.’

  ‘Never too busy to entertain a nurse,’ Captain Soames said heartily, ‘And Joseph Frears’ granddaughter, of course,’ he added hastily.

  But Walter was impatient to show May and Archie the other wonders of the Docks, so they thanked the captain for his hospitality and went ashore.

  Chapter Thirty One

  As Archie handed May off the gangway he noticed her leather gloves.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, May, the day’s sweltering, take your gloves off. We ditched ours ages ago, and Aunt Ju isn’t here to scold you.’

  May hesitated, but it was hot, so she obediently slipped them off – then wished she hadn’t when she saw the men’s eyes on her short, stubby fingernails and red, work-hardened hands. She curled them up and said defensively, ‘It’s the carbolic – we use so much.’

  ‘Oh come on, May, we know you spent all morning scrubbing bedpans and other unmentionables.’ Archie was amused. ‘Don’t worry, we won’t tell Aunt Julia you removed your gloves in the presence of gentlemen.’

  ‘Just one gentleman, Archie.’

  Walter said smoothly, ‘I’m sorry your opinion of me is still so low, Miss Winton! Here, give me those, I’ll put them in my pocket. I thought Archie would be interested in the dry dock, but it’s some distance – are you well shod, Miss Winton?’

  ‘Yes, certainly.’

  Archie murmured in May’s ear, ‘Best boots and silk stockings!’

  May stepped back squarely onto her cousin’s toe. ‘You are a beast, Archie!’

  Walter Lisle’s agreement was heartfelt. ‘Your remarks can be singularly ill-timed, Winton.’

  Archie protested. ‘I say, Tate, that’s a bit steep, when I’m doing you a favour!’

  Walter Lisle hurriedly began to tell them about the proposed establishment of a Port of London Authority to administer all the Docks.

  Their route took them over the dock entrance, and Walter looked suddenly worried at the narrowness of the footway above the sheer dro
p.

  ‘Would you rather we stayed on this side, Miss Winton?’

  ‘Of course not,’ May retorted, ‘I can swim, you know.’ She stepped lightly and sure-footedly over the gates, gazing down at the brown water so far below without a qualm.

  There was a large ship in the dry dock, and men were working on it at the far end. The descent to the depths was by a flight of slimy stone steps; May, determined to miss no experience on this adventurous afternoon climbed steadily down. Archie was amazed at the size of the exposed hull; he moved forward eagerly.

  ‘I’ll ask those fellows what they’re doing.’ He was off along the concrete bottom. May, following, walked into the damp shadows by the chocks. She stopped, and, head tipped back, stared up at the sheer blank sides soaring to the far-off sky. As she gazed up at the massive hull above her it seemed to start shimmering, it began to quiver – it was moving, poised to topple over and fall, and crush them utterly! She gasped and stepped jerkily back; she stood shaking, desperately fighting the urge to turn on her heel and flee and throw herself at the treacherous stone steps to scramble frantically up to the warm blue sky above.

  Then, as she stood trembling, she felt firm hands grip her arms, holding her still, and Walter Lisle’s voice, low and calming, murmured, ‘Steady, May, steady. It’s all right now.’ And he held her until the fear passed, and her body sagged with relief.

  She felt weak, and shaken, and foolish. ‘I am sorry – I was being stupid.’

  His voice, close to her ear, was gentle. ‘Don’t be silly, it can be very frightening. I was terrified the first time I came down here – I should have remembered.’

  May didn’t believe him, but was grateful. He said, ‘If you’re ready, I’ll take you up again. We’ll leave Archie to explore.’

  May looked, and saw her cousin’s slim back in earnest conversation with the workmen at the far end, where the hull was being painted. She nodded.

  ‘Yes please, I’m all right now.’ But she was grateful for Walter’s presence behind her, and his firm hold on her elbow as they went up the slippery steps. They reached the top and stepped on to the stone dock side. Her legs were trembling from the effort of making her muscles obey her. She gave a small sigh and leant against her companion’s shoulder for a brief, comforting moment.

  Then she moved away, saying, ‘Pride goes before a fall – it serves me right for boasting at the lock gates. I do feel an idiot.’

  ‘Well, nobody noticed.’ His voice was comforting, and they stood in companionable silence, waiting for Archie, together in the warm sun.

  Archie arrived panting and almost dishevelled, his hands smeared reddish brown.

  I say, May, it’s fascinating. I never knew ships’ hulls needed so much attention.’

  ‘Whatever have you got on your hands, Archie?’

  ‘Compo, May – anti-fouling composition, they put it on. Smell it, it beats carbolic hollow! Where are we going now, Tate?’

  ‘We’ll go to Brunswick Wharf.’ Walter’s voice was decided. ‘It’s one of the finest views on the Thames.’

  They picked their way over the quayside to the wharf. Walter pointed down river.

  ‘That’s Bugsby’s Reach.’

  May gazed spellbound at the glittering, sparkling, swelling water, as they stood on the very brink of the river with the damp cool smell of mud in their nostrils and the soft soothing sound of the small waves against the wharf in their ears. The river was busy, and Walter began to pick out those craft he could name, and guess at where they had come from and where they were bound, but it was soon clear that his favourites were the big Thames barges.

  ‘Look at them, at rest they’re almost ugly with their great flat hulls, but on the water they’re so graceful – they dance to the tune of the breeze.’

  May looked at his face, young and entranced in the sunlight, as he gazed at the sails. Suddenly, he seized her hand.

  ‘Look, look at that one, beyond the tug, there, see how it’s using the wind to turn against the tide. The helmsmen are so skilful, they work with the wind and the water, instead of fighting it, like those greasy, noisy tugs.’

  Then he came back to Brunswick Wharf again and realised where he was, and released her hand as suddenly as he had taken it. May felt her fingers tingling with the force of his grip.

  The afternoon seemed timeless to May as they stood watching the shining river with its myriad craft – swooping, gliding, chugging to and fro in front of them. Even Archie was silent. Then Walter took out his watch and said, ‘We’ll have to go back soon. I have a meeting with my churchwardens tonight.’

  The spell was broken. May turned reluctantly away from the swift river and back towards the city behind them.

  ‘I wondered whether you would both care to be my guests for tea. Mrs Lewis has baked a special cake for you, Miss Winton, to thank you for looking after Hetty – she’ll be very disappointed if you don’t come. You will, won’t you?’

  May remembered the last time she’d had tea at the Vicarage, and hesitated, but Walter’s face was pleading, and she didn’t want the afternoon to end, so she smiled her agreement and Archie said, ‘Come on, May, I’m hungry and don’t pretend you’re not – I’ll never believe it.’

  They made their way back to the Dock entrance, May still gazing interestedly about her. The men competed to summon the first cab, but as they tumbled in May noticed her bare hands.

  ‘My gloves, please, Mr Lisle.’ He retrieved them from his pocket and handed them over.

  Archie expostulated. ‘For goodness’ sake, May, as if it matters. Tate’s place isn’t Buck House, you know.’ But his tone was indulgent and he explained to Walter Lisle, ‘If you knew my aunt you’d understand why May is so proper. Her step-mother fed her pages of etiquette books for breakfast every morning, toasted, and spread with butter and marmalade.’ After a moment May joined in the laughter of the men.

  As they alighted from the cab May surveyed the vicarage with interest – after all, she’d scarcely had time to get a good look at it on the previous occasion. It really was a rather unprepossessing house, but quite large – Walter Lisle must rattle around in it on his own. Then she looked even more intently at the tall, yellow brick building beside it. So this was Walter’s church; she wondered what it was like inside.

  The maid opened the door with a warm smile, but as they stepped inside May couldn’t help feeling that a good session with a scrubbing brush and a bucket of soapy water would have improved the paintwork in the hall: the house bore the unmistakable signs of a bachelor occupant. She cringed slightly before entering the drawing room again but Shadrak, torn ear waving, leapt up from the sofa and purred round Walter’s legs. May bent down to stroke him, glad of the distraction. As she straightened up her attention was caught by a big bowl of peonies on the table. Walter saw the direction of her gaze and looked gratified; May had already guessed from the geometrical arrangement of the flowers that he had been responsible. She walked over and delicately touched the pink petals.

  ‘How beautiful!’ Walter smiled at her pleasure.

  ‘I say, May, that animal seems to know you!’ May cursed Archie’s sharp eye as she bent over to pick up the traitorous tom cat, and hide her blushes in his fur.

  Walter, rather pink, hastily took Archie off to show him some object at the other end of the room, and gave May time to recover herself. After all, whatever had passed between her and Mrs Tranter, it was she whom Walter was now entertaining to tea, not the rabbit-nosed Agnes.

  Archie ranged around the room, examining the ornaments, seeming unaware of the dusty smudges left on his hands as a result. He put a model of a sailing barge back on the mantelpiece, saying, ‘Not at all bad, Tate. So you’re still whittling away?’

  ‘Oh, did you make that, Mr Lisle?’ May jumped up and went to inspect the small craft. ‘Why, it’s very good!’

  Walter Lisle looked self-conscious. ‘It’s just a hobby. I find it difficult to sleep in this hot weather, and I don’t fancy reading
theology books all the time,’ he finished with a smile.

  May looked at him, and realised that in some ways his life must be a very lonely one, cut off as he was from his own clan by living in the East End. After all, she had her friends in the same building, and a host of colleagues to work with, but Walter Lisle could scarcely spend his evenings chatting to Mrs Lewis.

  ‘Do you have curates, Mr Lisle?’

  He smiled. ‘Yes indeed, three. I don’t know what I’d do without them.’ She felt oddly relieved by his reply.

  The tea tray arrived and May poured. The crockery and cutlery were very clean, she was glad to notice; they saw enough cases of food poisoning in the East End without the young vicar of St Barnabas’ being carried in with it. Not that he’d ever be a patient in St Katharine’s – a private nurse would be the order of the day, and then, no doubt, his fond Mamma would whisk him off to Shropshire, pale and weak. Walter was looking at her in a rather puzzled way, and May realised that her scenario was really rather premature – he looked in excellent health. Indeed, when she looked at him with a professional eye she could see he was a superb specimen of the young, healthy male.

  ‘More tea, Mr Lisle?’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Winton.’ He held out his cup to her.

  Archie rattled on as usual, and May and Walter Lisle were content to listen, with only brief interjections. Then May glanced at the green marble clock on the mantelpiece. Walter, watching her, asked, ‘I thought this was your half-day off, Miss Winton. You’re not on duty again today, are you?’

  May could not tell a direct lie. She said lightly, ‘The sick staff nurse on Elizabeth has recovered, so I’ve been transferred.’