Stay with Me (6 page)

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Authors: Jessica Blair

BOOK: Stay with Me
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James and Olivia were contemplating the future in different ways. James was trying to work out how his father would want him to develop the business, but dismissed that thought by reminding himself his ideas would naturally differ from John's and he was now in charge. Lena saw little consolation ahead for her. In the year's mourning she faced, there would be little social contact. Sympathisers would call and leave their cards unseen; close friends would linger a while but soon be gone, leaving her to her own thoughts in the big empty house with all its memories. Why hadn't she been born a boy? Men had it so much easier at these times; they could escape into their work.
Alistair took charge in York. He booked rooms for the night, considerately choosing a different hotel from that they had used when heading north. The coach he had hired to take them to Whitby the next day arrived on time. Once the coachman saw they were comfortably seated he set the horses on their way.
The night's rest had lightened spirits a little but, as the descent from the moors towards the coast started, the sombre feeling that permeated the coach was replicated in the grey clouds overhanging the town.
When they neared New Buildings, Alistair asked, ‘Would you like us to come in with you?'
James glanced at Lena, thoughtfully leaving the decision to her.
‘It is kind of you, Alistair, but I would rather the two of us faced our homecoming alone.'
‘Are you sure?' queried Olivia quickly.
‘Certain.' Lena gave her a wan smile. ‘You have both been pillars of strength and we are grateful to you for staying with us, but this is something James and I must face together.'
Alistair and Olivia respected their wishes and made their goodbyes. James left the coachman to see to their luggage and took Lena's arm supportively as they walked up the garden path towards the elegant house. Lena bit her lip and forced herself to hold back the threatening tears. This was certainly not the homecoming she had envisaged when leaving the house on Boxing Day.
As they neared the front door it opened and Mrs Campion the housekeeper stepped out. She was neatness itself in her slim-fitting grey dress, calm and practical, respected by all. Once the travelling arrangements had been made, Dr MacBride had written to her informing her of the date and time of James and Pauline's arrival. The commiserations she offered them now were heartfelt. She promised to do everything she could to assist Lena, whom now she regarded as mistress of the house.
Lena was comforted to see her kind, familiar face. Mrs Campion had come to them as housekeeper when she was but twenty-five, after entering service in Scarborough at fifteen. Highly competent and with a sharp mind, she had mastered all the duties and skills of a housekeeper by the time she was twenty.
Once James had expressed thanks on behalf of himself and Lena, and the housekeeper had dismissed the rest of the staff, she made her own condolences with considerable feeling, expressing what wonderful employers Mr and Mrs Carnforth had been to her, and saying she hoped she would be able to continue in the service of the two persons she had watched grow up over the last ten years.
Two hours later, seeking to occupy Lena's mind, the housekeeper was talking with her in the drawing-room when a maid announced Miss Nash was calling.
‘Show her in,' said Lena.
‘I'll leave you, miss,' said Mrs Campion, rising from her chair. ‘We can continue this tomorrow.'
‘Thank you,' replied Lena. ‘You have been most kind.'
‘It is a pleasure to be of service, miss, though I wish it was not in such tragic circumstances.'
The door opened then and the maid announced, ‘Miss Olivia Nash.'
Olivia hurried in, but some of her concern vanished when she saw Lena's demeanour.
‘I'm glad you came,' she said accepting her friend's kiss on the cheek and then indicating a chair to her.
‘I had to know how you are or I wouldn't have slept tonight,' Olivia told her.
‘Then rest easy, dear friend,' replied Lena. ‘It may sound strange, but I feel more at ease now that I am home. There is still so much of Mama and Papa here, I am finding it a great comfort.'
Olivia looked a little surprised. ‘I would have thought it would have made things harder?'
‘That was my expectation while I was in Dundee, but now I am home, even in this short time, I don't find it so. I received heartfelt sympathy in Dundee, but it was in danger of becoming overpowering. I am better here, where I can be peaceful.'
‘I am glad you see things this way. I'm sure your mother and father would approve.'
‘I must thank you too for all you did there.'
‘My dear Lena, I hope I will always be around to help if ever you need me.'
‘And I for you, Olivia.' She leaned forward and pressed her friend's hand. As Lena straightened up she said, ‘Now tell me, what happened at Robin Hood's Bay? Did your cousin have her baby.'
Olivia raised her eyebrows a little. ‘No. Mother and Father are still there. Been a slight miscalculation, if you ask me. Father rides to Whitby every other day to the office. He left a note at home yesterday, saying he had received Alistair's letter telling him what had happened and explaining when we would be back. He hopes to see you and James when he is in Whitby tomorrow. At the end of his note he said Mother sends her love to you both.'
Pleased to see Lena looking settled, Olivia left after half an hour.
 
The following day, on his way to the office across the river, James was stopped on numerous occasions by people who wished to express their sympathy at what had happened. Lesser acquaintances expressed their feelings by touching their forehead or by a respectful inclination of the head. John Carnforth had been a much admired man in Whitby. That walk made James realise he had something to live up to, and stiffened his determination to do so.
‘Good day, Ben, Jude,' he acknowledged the firm's two middle-aged clerks when he looked into the outer office.
‘Good day, Mr Ja—er, sir,' they spluttered, uncertain as to how they should address him now. They had seen him grow up from a boy who loved to be around Whitby's quays and ships and he had been called Master James then until promoted in their estimation to Mr James. Now he would be Mr Carnforth since there was only one remaining.
James smiled to himself at their confusion. ‘Is Ralph in?' he asked.
‘Yes, sir,' they both chorused.
He went down the corridor to the next room which served as the manager's office. Like the one he would be occupying, it had a view across the roadway to the quays and the river, beyond which could be seen the shipbuilding yards. Carnforth's offices were at the hub of Whitby's activities, only a short distance away from Nash's thriving concern.
‘Ralph!' James greeted the manager brightly as he entered the room.
‘James!' He sprang to his feet and the two young men exchanged firm handshakes. Ralph was pleased that the relationship they had built up as youngsters, Ralph being only two years older than James, did not appear to have been affected by the fact that James would now own the firm - or at least that was what he expected. He lost no time in extending his commiserations and sympathy, and added, ‘This has been a terrible tragedy and a great shock to you. Take your time coming back. Everything is in hand here. You can see . . .'
James held up his hand to stop him. ‘No, Ralph, I'm taking no more time away. I'll be better off being involved. I know you are capable of carrying on but there are certain things . . .'
‘I fully understand,' his friend interrupted, ‘and I think it's the best approach. I know your father would approve of such an attitude too. So let me bring you up to date with what has happened while you were away.'
‘Good man, Ralph! I couldn't have a better person by my side. Stay with me - you won't regret it.'
Ralph made no comment but opened a ledger and started to explain their current financial situation.
Half an hour later, James leaned back in his chair. ‘The accounts show us to be well set up. I think we are well placed to make some shrewd investments in specialist cargoes.'
Ralph nodded. ‘We'll cast around. You might pick up some more hints about possible new markets now that you will be mixing with other owners and merchants.'
‘My ears will be ever attuned,' said James, smiling.
A knock on the door stopped any further conversation between them. Ben came in.
‘This has just been delivered for you, sir.' He handed over an envelope to James.
‘Is the messenger waiting for an answer?'
‘He is, sir.'
James tore the paper open. He glanced quickly at it and, looking up, said to Ben, ‘Tell him that will suit me.'
‘Very good, sir.'
When the door closed Ralph gave a little chuckle. ‘Sir! You've been promoted. Are you expecting that from me?'
James grinned. ‘If I said yes, you'd up and leave.'
‘True.'
‘We understand each other.' James assumed a serious expression then and his eyes never left Ralph's. ‘We'll consult as Father and you did, but the final decision will now be mine, as it was his.'
Ralph's face conveyed no emotion as he said, ‘Of course,' and started to rise. ‘The
Mary Jane
is due to sail within the hour. I'm going to make a final check with Captain Muldoon.'
‘Then I'll come too,' said James, getting to his feet. But he got no further. At that moment there was another knock on the door and Ben reappeared.
‘Mr Nash to see you, sir.'
‘Show him in, Ben.' James glanced at Ralph. ‘Carry on.'
He acknowledged Mr Nash as he left.
‘James, my dear boy, what can I say?' Albert's rugged features were drawn with concern. He clasped James's hand firmly. ‘To say that I'm sorry is barely adequate. What a terrible tragedy! An awful time for you. How are you and Pauline managing?'
‘As well as you'd expect after such a tremendous shock, but we received staunch support from our relations in Dundee, and of course Alistair and Olivia were towers of strength.'
‘I'm glad to hear it.' Albert took the chair indicated by James. ‘Now,' he went on as he sat down, ‘if there is anything Mrs Nash or I can do for you or for Pauline, please don't hesitate to ask. Your father and I were lifelong friends and our two families have always been close. Always will be, I hope'
The words rolled off his tongue. James realised he was speaking so fast to avoid breaking down in front of the younger man.
‘It's kind of you to be concerned for our welfare, sir, and rest assured, neither I nor Lena will hesitate to come to you if necessary.'
‘Good, good,' Albert sighed and asked tentatively, ‘The business . . .? I expect you will be taking over?'
‘I don't know. The Will has not yet been read. As a matter of fact, I have just received a note from Mr Witherspoon, asking if he may visit tomorrow.'
Albert nodded. ‘I'm sure you will inherit and be in sole charge. Your father thought you highly competent and said you contributed much to the firm, so I'm sure he will have entrusted the business to you. Besides, what else could he do, you being the only male in the family?'
‘We shall know tomorrow.'
They talked for another hour. Albert seemed in no rush to leave, but then took his watch from his waistcoat pocket. ‘Oh, my goodness!' he gasped. ‘How time flies without us realising it.' He sprang to his feet. ‘I'm late for an appointment with a merchant from Hull.' He gave a little grunt of disgust with himself. ‘I'll be behind all day now. It's a devil . . . once behind and you never seem to make it up.
And
I promised Mrs Nash I'd be back in Robin Hood's Bay by three.' He started for the door where he paused to shake hands with James. ‘I won't be able to visit Pauline now. Very remiss of me. Please apologise and tell her I'll call next time I'm in Whitby.'
‘I will, sir. I'm sure she'll understand.'
 
As he walked home James experienced a sense of satisfaction: he would be in charge now and would run the firm his father had built up to the best of his ability; in fact he would expand it as a memorial to his parents, his mother and the step-father who had viewed him as his own. Then he was touched by doubt. His father's Will still had not been read . . . maybe the firm would not be his. After all, he was only John Carnforth's step-son. What if . . .? No, that thought was too ridiculous. Who else could he have left it to? Apart from Ralph, who else knew as much about the business as he did? Lena? Well, she had always shown an interest in it, and he knew Father had always encouraged her do so even though he'd never involved her in the actual day-to-day running of things. No, he could-n't have left it to her . . . surely not? After all, she was a woman and it was unthinkable for them to become involved in a man's world. But even with this thought came an extra nagging doubt; it was only an unwritten law. He knew of two cases in Hull, in fact, where women had taken over when their husbands had died.
Reaching home, he found Lena in the drawing-room reading.
‘How have you been?' he asked solicitously.
‘I'm settling back in, James. Don't worry about me. Oh, I will mourn and miss Mama and Papa, but life has to go on and I know they would not want me to withdraw into myself, mope and moan about the cruelty of life.
‘I've seen Olivia and Alistair. His was a quick visit as he was on his way to see some patients. There have been the expected sympathisers calling, too, but I coped with them. Mind you, I'll be pleased when all that is over and I can get out of these.' She indicated her mourning clothes. ‘Even though I say it so soon after getting into them, I know Mama would sympathise and agree. She would want me to get on with my life.'

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