Snow Angels (30 page)

They had lost a good many of their friends as well as their London house that year. It was strange, Abby had thought at the time, how the two went together. The house had belonged to Robert’s family for so long that nobody spoke of it, but his losing it alienated people, they were so shocked. Charlotte had been vocal in her disappointment, but Abby thought that if she had been the kind of person who criticised, she certainly could have done so with the Collingwoods. Their business was starting to go downhill, the competition from German and American and Irish yards, on top of Scottish and the damage Gil was doing, was too much. They had tried to replace their top men but clever, skilled men were difficult to dislodge from other yards and William would not offer better wages and housing and other schemes such as schools and churches, which many shipyard owners did in other places. He preferred the old ways, relying on his business ability and reputation. It was not enough. Gil had made Reed’s the premier shipyard on the Tyne and when people
spoke of him now it was not about scandal but with respect because of the mighty ship which would make his name and the kind way in which he treated his men. Unlike other yards, he didn’t lay them off when times were hard, but then he seemed to have insured himself against hard times. There was always work and if there wasn’t Abby knew that Gil went abroad in search of it, unlike many of his competitors. Men fought to work for him because they knew that they were almost guaranteed security. Her father had loved the business which Gil had built up, he had loved being part of it.

Robert was away when her father died. She did not know whether to be pleased or not. He had gone shooting with some cronies. Strangely, now that they had no London house Abby longed to be there as she had not before and to be reassured that they still had lots of friends, though she did not know what she might miss about those who had deserted her. She told herself that it had just been a house, that it didn’t matter, they still had the house in Northumberland and it was so much more spacious. But the loss of prestige was huge and she knew that when Robert was sober, he was disgusted with himself, which was the world’s best reason for not staying sober. The comfort was that he did not gamble when he was drunk. Shooting, he was neither drunk nor gambling so Abby tried to be happy that he was not about when her father died. They had not liked one another at all towards the end she thought, Henderson because he considered Robert an idler and Robert because Henderson had been ill on and off for a long time now and he thought that Abby was in Newcastle more often than he wanted her to be.

Abby felt lost as though she had no one. Robert was not to be relied on and she could not ask Gil for any help. She did not need any help with the funeral arrangements, having taken care of everything when her mother died. It was strange how Gil acted the part that her father had then. He went to work and she stayed at the house. The one thing that was different was Matthew and he was a comfort to Abby, diverting her mind, when she would
have been sad, to everyday things such as playing games and reading stories. He had started school and could read and write very well and was inclined to read to her when he thought she was more upset. They went shopping together and he entertained her. She took him out to tea in Eldon Square.

Robert came to the funeral, sober, beautifully dressed in an expensive suit, smiling and attentive, saying all the right things. Matthew stayed at home with Kate and Abby got through the entire service and burial without weeping. It was Gil who was no help that day. Wearing a dark suit, speaking to no one, she could not hear his voice when the hymns she had chosen were sung and during the burial she did not see him at all.

Back at the house, people who had barely spoken to Henderson for years gathered to drink tea or sherry or whisky and talk about old times. She heard her mother’s name mentioned. Kate had taken Matthew out to tea. Abby was grateful to both her and Mrs Wilkins, who had helped to organise the food and drink and kept going around making certain that nobody was without a glass or a cup and saucer. John and Edwina were there; even Toby had come. Abby was grateful to them. Toby’s wife was not there. She had only a few days ago given birth to twin boys and, even though Toby’s dark suit and sober expression were correct for a funeral, he could not suppress the triumph in his eyes and the happiness which shone in his face.

‘What have you called them?’ Abby managed to ask.

‘Frederick after my father and Richard after Henrietta’s father. Don’t you admire the tact?’

‘A very good move,’ Abby said.

Gil did not come back. Even after everybody had gone and she had read Matthew a story, put him to bed and gone up a little later to make sure that he was asleep, he did not come home and Abby was angry. She was used to this, to men leaving women to do everything. Then they would come back, drunk and useless. It was only when she heard the front door at around ten o’clock when everybody had gone to bed, that Abby got up ready to
make stinging remarks. Then she remembered she had no right. He was not her husband. One night could not call him her lover and he was certainly not her friend, but she had needed him that day and he had not been there. He should have been and he was not. She went out into the hall.

‘Where have you been?’ she said.

Gil was taking off his coat.

‘Work.’

‘To work?’ Abby was shocked. ‘Today?’

‘Things don’t stop, you know.’

He was certainly sober, she thought.’

‘I would have thought that out of respect you should have given the men the day off, closed the shipyards.’

‘Your father wouldn’t have wanted that.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I just do,’ he said, and went into the little office and shut the door.

Abby was too angry to do what she knew she should have done and let it rest. She followed him there.

‘I’ve had a houseful of people all afternoon. I didn’t see you at the burial.’

‘I didn’t go.’ He was shuffling papers on the desk.

‘You weren’t there?’

‘I have a ship launch next week.’

She stared.

‘You can’t launch that ship now.’

‘It’s ready and it will go.’

‘It would be a sign of disrespect. Besides—’

‘Besides what?’

‘Well … there will be things to sort out, the will and … I have asked Mr Brampton to read the will tomorrow. Perhaps you could find time for that. You – you ought to have closed the shipyards. I presumed you had.’

‘Time’s money.’

Abby looked down. She didn’t want to continue this conversation.
She and Gil had been living in the same house for several days and she had not thought about him, but in this room it was impossible not to. She wished fervently that she had not given herself to him, most especially she wished that it had not been here. She left the room and went back to the sitting-room fire, but the room was more empty than it had ever been without her father so she went to bed.

*

There was always a fire lit in the little office but no doubt Kate, like Abby, presumed that he would not work that day, though what else they thought he was supposed to do Gil couldn’t think. He had had to go to work. Everything was going wrong and had been for several days, as though the yard knew that Henderson had died. He had to be there to sort things out and it was just as well: he couldn’t bear the house; he certainly couldn’t bear the church and the idea of the cemetery was not to be considered. He thought of all those people in Henderson’s house. He knew they would come, people who hadn’t even visited when he was ill, some who had turned their backs when he took Gil into his house. Where had they been when Henderson was recovering from his last illness? Where had they been when he was lonely? Where had they been after his wife died? They had been at home among their families and now they had the audacity to pretend respect.

Robert had not even spoken to Gil, as though Gil was allowed to feel no loss, yet he knew well that people would count Henderson Robert’s loss and would no doubt have offered their condolences, shaken his hand, sympathised.

Gil had said his own farewell to Henderson that afternoon beside the big ship that Henderson had not lived to see launched. He had seen to it that the ship would be ready next week, that she would move cleanly and swiftly down to her baptism in the water of the river that Henderson had loved so well. Henderson was not in that wooden box in the cemetery and he was not in
the church; he was in his office at work and walking among the men and standing admiring beside the ship, looking at it with proud eyes and winking at Gil in joy. He would always be there and it was the only place that Gil could bear to be.

*

They gathered in the sitting-room alongside Kate and Mrs Wilkins for the reading of the will the following afternoon. Abby already hated that room since finding out that her father had died in it, as though the room was somehow responsible for his death. She wasn’t much concerned about the will. She had been her father’s only child and it would be good to have her independence. She knew that with what her mother had left, the two shipyards and the house, she would walk out of here a rich woman. She had of late been concerned about the loss of their London house through Robert’s gambling, though to her knowledge he had lost nothing since. The others were there for small bequests. She only wished that Gil would sit down, but he didn’t. He walked about the room until the solicitor was ready to begin and then stood at the window with his back to everyone.

Mr Brampton was all that you imagined a solicitor to be. He coughed a great deal as though he had a permanent cold and he didn’t shift around in his chair like other people because he was used to sitting all day. He wore a suit, not as expensive as Robert’s but very nice, and he was small and slender and precise.

First of all, Abby discovered that her father had left some money in trust for her daughter. Mr Brampton said, hesitating and coughing, that this could not be touched until Georgina came of age and was for her alone. Abby was rather pleased about this. How far-sighted of her father to have provided so well for his only grandchild. He had not mentioned it nor given any indication that he cared particularly for a child he had rarely seen. Then Mr Brampton went on to the house. She was looking forward to this because this was her home. She had always loved it; it had been a sanctuary, the place she had been happy with her
parents. She had never had a house completely her own. She loved every piece of furniture, every room, the paintings, the conservatory, the garden. Her ears deceived her then as she listened to Mr Brampton’s politely monotonous voice. Her father had left the house to Gil. She ran the words over in her mind for mistakes. He could not have done such a thing. In stupefaction she listened. Robert was to have her fathers watch and she was to have the ring he always wore on his little finger – a wedding gift from her mother – and Mrs Wilkins and Kate were to have five hundred pounds each. They both gasped with pleasure at this. And that was all. It was over. She listened for further words but there were none. Abby couldn’t move for shock and disappointment. Mrs Wilkins and Kate went out and Robert went to Mr Brampton and said what she had wanted to say.

‘That can’t be right.’

Mr Brampton looked severely at him above his spectacles.

‘I assure you, sir. I dealt with Mr Reed all his life and it is exactly right.’

‘But what about the works? What about the shipyard?’

Mr Brampton glanced across the room towards Gil.

‘That has nothing to do with this, sir. The shipyard did not belong to Mr Reed and was therefore not his to leave.’

‘It didn’t belong to him?’ Robert’s face was getting redder and redder, like coals with bellows at them. ‘The shipyard has been in the Reed family for two generations. How could it not belong to him?’

‘It belongs to me,’ Gil said.

Mr Brampton coughed again and tried to excuse himself but Robert objected, glaring all the while in Gil’s direction.

‘How could that be?’ He had gone from scarlet to white, whiter than Abby could remember him being.

‘I was made a partner almost from the beginning and then gradually, after he knew that he was ill, Henderson made it over to me. It’s perfectly legal. Mr Brampton here is a stickler for the law.’

Mr Brampton nodded sagely.

It can’t be right. You came here with nothing.’

‘I went into the business with a contract for the biggest express liner ever to be built. Such a project is worth a great deal of money.’

‘So you bought your way in.’

‘That’s what people usually do.’

‘I knew nothing of this.’

‘Why should you? You haven’t shown any interest in the yards. You haven’t put any money into it. You’ve yet to set foot past the gates that I know of, and you know nothing about shipbuilding or industry. It would take a foolish man to leave things so badly.’

‘But it’s worth a great deal of money.’

‘Only as a business.’

‘It could be sold.’

‘It isn’t going to be sold. It’s going to go on exactly in the way that Henderson intended.’

‘I shall get my solicitors onto this. I don’t think he would have done such a thing to his only child.’

‘You’d be wasting your money,’ Gil said.

Robert was almost sneering.

‘I see I’ve been duped,’ he said. ‘Everything they say about you is true. You’ve done a gullible old man out of a fortune. You complete and utter bastard. I’m not going to sit down under this. I’m going to put you on the street. I’m going to make sure that you have to do what you should have done – what any man with any honour would have done after you caused your wife’s death and that of your sister-in-law – I’ll make sure that you leave the north and can never come back!’

He slammed out of the room. Mr Brampton followed him, coughing and taking his papers. Abby and Gil were left alone. She didn’t know what to say. She thought that she had never been as angry with anyone as she was with Gil now. She could barely speak.

‘How could you take everything? I trusted you.’

‘I haven’t taken everything—’