Storm and Silence

by Robert Thier

  ‘Well, don't just stand there like an ape, man, give it to me!’ Mr Ambrose snapped, his voice not so devoid of emotion as usual. Mr Stone rushed forward, deposited the memorandum on his master’s desk and got out of the danger zone as quickly as possible. The door fell shut behind him.

  ‘Why can’t you accept me?’ Strangely, my voice was soft now. Soft and muted. ‘Why can’t you let me do the work that needs to be done, whether harmless or dangerous?’

  He met my eyes without flinching.

  ‘You know why.’

  ‘Because I am a lady?’

  Silence.

  ‘Talk to me!’

  Silence.

  ‘The search for the file…’ I began again, but a raised hand from Mr Ambrose stopped me in mid-sentence.

  ‘You want to work for me?’ he snapped. ‘Really, seriously work for me? All right. If it’s work you want, it’s work you’re going to get. Bring me file 38XI201.’

  ‘The search…’

  ‘I said bring me file 38XI201!’

  What could I do? He was my employer, it was his prerogative to tell me what to do. Honestly, I wondered as I went searching for the appropriate box, maybe Ella and I should just move into the workhouse voluntarily. Surely, the tyranny of the workhouse foreman and the tyranny of Mr Ambrose would be much the same?

  Well, I was wrong about that. As I was about to find out, the tyranny of Mr Rikkard Ambrose could be much, much worse.

  *~*~**~*~*

  ‘Bring me file 38XI205! Take this note to stone! Hurry! Here, the safe key! Go and fetch the steam engine model from the safe. No, not that one, the one with two pistons and the larger exhaust outlet. Move faster! If you dawdle so much you’ll never get your work done. Where is that file?’

  That’s how it went on all day. He harried me like a pack of vengeful harpies, chasing me from this task to that, and when that was done to these and those and numerous others. It wasn’t long until my feet began to ache and I had numerous paper cuts on my fingers from hastily leafing through files. When I got bloodstains on one of them, he accused me of wilfully damaging company material and ordered me to stop bleeding.

  ‘How about if I bandage my finger?’ I hissed at him.

  ‘Too time-consuming. Just stop bleeding, and that’s the end of it!’

  I could see exactly what he was doing, but I wasn’t giving in. No matter how much he hounded me, I wouldn’t collapse and admit it was too much, or he was being unfair! I would give him no leverage, no reason to throw me out!

  Without pause, I worked as long as I could, but at some point came the time when I had to step up to his desk and say: ‘Um… Mr Ambrose? I have to powder my nose again.’

  ‘You nose looks fine. Continue working.’

  ‘Mr Ambrose, do we have to have another talk about euphemisms?’

  He hesitated for a moment.

  ‘Oh. That kind of nose-powdering?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘Fine!’ he snapped. Motioning with his hand to the door of his private bathroom, he gave me a curt nod. ‘Go. But be quick about it!’

  ‘I shall do my very best, Sir,’ I answered sardonically.

  The rest of the day continued pretty much the same. About mid-day, when he had sent me into the file section to retrieve a box, I devoured a sandwich I had brought with me for lunch. It wasn’t much, but it kept me going until the sun finally began to sink and the moment was approaching when I could finally stop this torture and go home

  The moment arrived and went away. Mr Ambrose gave no indication of wanting to stop. I heard Mr Stone outside in the hall pack up and leave, but Mr Ambrose stayed behind his desk, shooting orders at me in rapid succession.

  The storm clouds of my temper rumbled dangerously. He had no right to do this! I had worked the whole day, in fact three hours longer than I was supposed to, and he was still making me work overtime for no reason.

  Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He had a reason: wanting to get rid of me. It just wasn’t a very nice one.

  Finally, when, over an hour after Mr Stone had left, he still showed no sign of wanting to leave, I snapped. Marching up to his desk, I dumped the last box of files onto it with an earth-shattering thump.

  ‘This isn’t going to work, you know!’ I announced, glaring at him in defiance. ‘No matter how much work you heap on me, you can’t make me quit!’

  He looked up, regarding my angry face over the top of the box.

  ‘Yes, I can see that.’

  ‘So are you going to give up?’ I demanded.

  His eyes glittered dangerously. Rising from his armchair, he slowly leant forward until our faces were only inches apart, and his dark, sea-coloured eyes became pools beckoning me to drown myself in them.

  ‘Give up?’ he breathed. ‘Hardly. I shall simply have to find another method to… persuade you.’

  *~*~**~*~*

  When I finally left the office, I still had goose bumps all over my body.

  Another method to persuade me… to persuade me to leave… I wondered what that might be. Whatever he was thinking of, I wasn’t looking forward to it - not after he said it in that tone of voice.

  Really? You little liar!

  I told myself most firmly to shut the hell up! At the moment I was just too tired to think much about it or anything else for that matter. I only wanted a nice, soft bed after a long day at work. Still, I had to go through the cumbersome process of changing clothes before I could approach the front of the house. Sighing, I finally stepped through the front door, wishing I were already upstairs.

  ‘Lilly!’

  My head whipped around to see my aunt standing right beside me. She had to have been waiting there, behind the door, ready to pounce on me the moment I came in.

  ‘Where were you?’ she demanded, her eyes glittering dangerously. ‘You’ve been gone the whole day!’

  Ah, so she had finally caught on to my frequent day-long absences, had she? Amazing what caring surrogate parent she was: it had only taken her a couple of weeks.

  Lucky for me, I had a plan ready.

  I winked. ‘You remember the gentleman from the ball the other day?’

  Her frown lifted a bit. ‘You mean…’

  ‘I won’t name names of course,’ I said, hoping fervently she wouldn’t make me, because I didn’t have any. ‘But you know… I’ve been seeing a little more of him recently.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her eyes went wide. ‘Oh, if that’s the case…’

  She smiled. She actually smiled. ‘Good girl! Now, off to bed with you!’

  Thanking God that I had gotten off so lightly, I scampered up the stairs. Beautifully! That’s how it had worked, simply beautifully! I would have to come up with a new story soon, of course, as soon as she realized there were no flowers or presents arriving for me. But I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.

  Up in our shared room, Ella was waiting for me. She sat on her bed and looked up at me with a timidly hopeful smile.

  ‘Have you been out with your young man again?’

  I didn’t really see the point of saying no. I had been lying so frequently lately, it had almost become second nature to me. And anyway, this wasn’t technically a lie. I had been with a young man. An incredibly rich, intimidating man whose head I wanted to rip off and feed to piranhas at the moment, but he was still a young man.

  ‘Yes.’

  Ella’s cautious smile bloomed into full radiance.

  ‘Really? Did it go well?’

  Well, he worked me over pretty hard, I bled a little, and he gave me permission to use his toilet. Nice, isn’t he?

  All true, but I didn’t say that. Instead I plastered a smile on my face and told her: ‘Yes, very well indeed. I think we’re getting to know each other better.’

  ‘Come and sit down.’ Ella reached out to me pleadingly. ‘Tell me about him.’

  Oh Dear God…

  Was this a good idea?

  Of course not, you idiot! Of course not! Lie your way out
of this right away!

  I opened my mouth - but Ella was sitting there, all sweet and innocent and eager. ‘Oh, Lilly, I know you can’t mention his name or anything,’ she assured me. ‘I just want to know what kind of man he is, how you two get along, how you feel about him. Please.’

  She looked up at me with big, pleading doey eyes. Damn! Sisters like that should be illegal! Without really meaning to, I took two steps forward and sat down on the bed beside her, putting my arms around her.

  ‘All right,’ I said, smiling encouragingly. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Well… how long have you two known each other?’

  Well, that was easy. I could just tell the truth.

  ‘A couple of weeks, now.’

  ‘And how many assignations have you had yet?’ she whispered, leaning closer, an eager look in her eyes.

  Darn! This wasn’t so easy any more. What should I say? I go to him every day because he pays me for it?

  If I said that, she would be jumping to conclusions about my relationship with Mr Ambrose that were even worse than the truth, and her screams of horror would alert the entire household.

  ‘Um… assignations…’ Desperately I grabbed for a number. My mind seized on Mr Ambrose’s date book. ‘Thirty-six,’ I blurted out. ‘Thirty-six assignations.’

  ‘Oh. That is quite a lot.’

  It was. And all in one day, too. The fact that I had only noted them down, not actually been there, I chose not to mention.

  ‘And…’ Ella leaned closer, lowering her voice as if now the really important part began. ‘And how do you feel about him?’

  Oh bloody heck! More lying. Well, I supposed it was unavoidable.

  I bit my lip.

  ‘I… care about him. But he’s difficult, you know? Taciturn and cool, and not very free with his money. He keeps me at arm’s length, which isn’t easy to deal with sometimes. But underneath it all, he’s really important to me.’

  Goodness, was I doing an amazing job! My lies were delivered brilliantly, in just the right tone of voice with just the right amount of nervous hesitation. I could see on Ella’s face that she believed me. Heck, I very nearly believed myself, although I knew of course it was all codswallop. Mr Ambrose was a source of income, nothing more, nothing less.

  ‘Lill, I… I know you don't want Aunt to know about him.’

  Darn right I didn’t! If my aunt found out what I really was doing during my supposedly romantic escapades, she would have a coronary! Worse, she would recover from it and come after me!

  ‘So I’m guessing,’ Ella continued cautiously, ‘that he’s not very respectable or not very wealthy.’

  I smirked. Ella had always lost guessing games. She couldn’t have been more wrong in this case. From what I had gathered, half the mothers in London were out to get Rikkard Ambrose for their maiden daughters, and the other half was not similarly engaged only because Lord Dalgliesh was also in town.

  ‘So… have you ever thought about running away with him?’

  The question hit me like a steam engine. So that was what this was all about! I had wondered why, this late in the evening, she would be here in her room and not outside in the garden with Edmund. Now I knew! He was out forging his escape plans, and she was seeking reassurance. And who better to give her that than her big sister, who just also happened to have romantic troubles?

  Or at least in Ella’s imagination.

  Curse my lies! They had turned out to be bleeding inconvenient!

  I cleared my throat, trying to banish a mental image of Mr Ambrose slinging me over his shoulder and dragging me to the nearest altar. ‘Um… not really. We aren’t really quite that far in our relationship.’

  Damn right you aren’t! For example, you’ll first have to get an actual relationship! One that involves more than me carrying around files and jumping at his every command, that is!

  ‘But if he asked you,’ Ella insisted, clearly determined to get an answer, her eyes looking large and forlorn, ‘would you run away with him?’

  Unbidden, the image of Mr Ambrose slinging me over his shoulder shoved its way back into my thoughts. Of course we wouldn’t embark on our elopement in a comfortable coach - a chaise would have to do, if we wouldn’t walk. Real carriages were, after all, much too expensive. And we wouldn’t get married by special license either, for that cost money, too. Once we had gotten married in some country church by a young priest who didn’t ask too much of a fee, we would return to London and spend our honeymoon sorting through the business correspondence that had arrived in our absence.

  I shook my head at the absurd image, and a smile crept onto my lips.

  ‘Of course.’ The words had slipped out before I had even noticed. ‘Of course I would run away with him.’

  God! This was taking the convincing lying a bit far, wasn’t it? After all, I wanted to dissuade her from eloping, not encourage her! What was I doing?

  I was of course being sarcastic and insincere, but Ella couldn’t know that, the poor girl! Somehow, when I spouted that outrageous lie just now, I had managed to make my voice sound horribly convincing!

  ‘Oh.’ Ella’s shoulders slumped and she looked even more lost than before. I had been right. She had been looking for advice on her own situation, and this obviously hadn’t been the answer she had been expecting. She had probably expected words of caution from her big sister.

  ‘That doesn't mean that you should, though,’ I added hastily. ‘If you ever were in that kind of situation, I mean, hypothetically. What I would do isn’t necessarily the best thing. You know I’m a reckless maniac who should probably be locked up for her own safety.’

  ‘Oh, Lill!’ Ella tried her best but couldn’t keep a smile off her face. ‘You shouldn’t say such things!’

  ‘Why not, if they make you smile?’ I teased and drew her closer towards me. ‘Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. Everything will be just fine.’

  I was really an excellent liar. Later, when I lay in bed and watched Ella sleep with a peaceful smile on her face, I wondered how I had managed to give her so much reassurance. I certainly didn’t feel sure of myself or of my ability to help her. The unknown date when she would forever be snatched away from me was drawing closer.

  What… what if I simply talked with her about it? Tried to talk her out of it?

  But then I remembered the fire in her eyes when she had looked at Edmund, and I knew that talking wouldn’t do any good. It might only serve to destroy her trust in me. I only had one chance: find a way to get rid of Wilkins before it was too late! And I would do so, and I would make Mr Ambrose fully accept me, and the day after tomorrow I would challenge British chauvinism and demonstrate for women’s suffrage with my friends at the chauvinists’ convention in Hyde Park. I had a lot of obstacles in my way, but none of them were going to stop me! Least of all a certain detestable, handsome, rich businessman!

  *~*~**~*~*

  Taking a deep breath, I walked down the hallway. In passing, I nodded to Mr Stone.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Stone.

  He smiled and nodded back at me.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Linton.’

  For a moment I hesitated, wondering whether I should enter my own office, not that of Mr Ambrose. His words rang through my mind again: I shall simply have to find another method to… persuade you.

  No matter how morbidly curious a part of me might be, I didn’t want to find out what that meant. I wasn’t suicidal.

  Don’t be a chicken, Lilly! You know it’s far better to face his next attack head-on. If you don’t come directly into his office, he’s bound to see it as another attempt at time-wasting.

  So I squared my shoulders, marched past Mr Stone’s desk and pushed open the door to Mr Ambrose’s office, ready for whatever might await me.

  ‘Ah, Mr Linton, there you are! How nice to see you! Come in, come in and make yourself comfortable.’

  I was just over the threshold when the words and the scene before me registere
d, and I stopped in my tracks.

  I had been wrong. I had not been ready for whatever awaited me. I certainly wasn’t ready for a Mr Rikkard Ambrose standing in front of me with a broad smile on his outrageously handsome face.

  The Importance of Being Nice

  ‘Please, Mr Linton.’ That broad smile still on his face, Mr Ambrose gestured for me to come in. ‘Please don't just stand there. Close the door behind you and sit down, please.’

  A smile.

  He had a smile on his face.

  Rikkard Ambrose had a smile on his face. And he had said please! I tried to remember whether he had ever said please to me before, and I couldn’t recall a single instance. And now he had said it three times in a row.

  Maybe I was still asleep. Maybe this was a dream and I would wake up soon.

  ‘Won’t you sit down, please?’ He repeated, still displaying that dazzling smile.

  Don’t be a fool, Lilly! A tiger smiles too - but that’s no reason to sit down next to it!

  But Mr Ambrose’s smile… It transformed his whole face. Where previously there had only been harshness, there now was splendour and magnificence. It nearly took my breath away. If I had thought he was handsome before, that was nothing compared to the sight that was now in front of me.

  He gestured to a chair, again inviting me to sit.

  Don’t! Don’t do it!

  I was about to take a step back - when Mr Ambrose stepped towards me and, looking deep into my eyes, took my hand. At the feel of his touch, a shock shot up my arm. His touch wasn’t harsh as I had expected, nor was it gentle. It was just right. My hand lay in his as if it had been made to be there.

  Listen to yourself! You sound like Ella!

  ‘Come,’ he ordered. Only it wasn’t the kind of order he usually gave. Not a ‘Bring my file XYZ!’ shouted in a voice like a sergeant major on mission in Antarctica. No, this time his voice was full of a darker, deeper meaning I couldn’t hope to fathom.

  My feet started to move without consulting my brain.

  Oh well, if this was a dream, I might as well enjoy it while it lasted. A chance to sit down in the presence of His Mightiness Mr Ambrose the Cold and Terrible might not come so quickly again, even in a dream world. I let myself be led over to one of the empty chairs in an outrageously unfeminist manner, unable to take my incredulous eyes off his smiling face. When I sat, he didn’t immediately take a seat himself, but instead just stood there, holding my hand, gazing into my eyes.