James Lionel Falconer had fallen in love. Not with a person, but with a town. Its correct name was Kingston upon Hull, although locally it was simply called Hull.
It was a great seaport on the river Humber, which flowed into the North Sea, and it had been highly successful for more than a hundred years, trading with the Baltic countries and Russia.
James had been captivated by it immediately. By the cheerful, smiling, friendly people in the hustle and bustle of the busy streets, who were all well fed, well dressed, and obviously well employed. There was an air of enormous prosperity about the town, and the people too, and, of course, this came from the shipping industry. It didn’t take him long to realize that these happy, pleasure-loving people were hell-bent on having a good time. Money. That was the secret. Everyone earned a good living. There were many rich families from the Hull merchant class, the owners of the ships, who also were attracted to pleasure and entertainment.
Within the first week of living with Great-Aunt Marina, his grandmother’s younger sister, James had been to a theater to see a play, visited a music hall where there were dancers, comedians, and even performing dogs. And he had heard about the sumptuous suppers, the balls that went on until four o’clock in the morning, the tea dances, and the card games. Gambling was a favorite pastime in Hull, and there were even gambling clubs.
Great-Uncle Clarence Venables, the husband of his aunt, had told him Hull was a City of Gaiety, and James had nodded in agreement, liking this very apt description.
He was staying with the Venables family in their beautiful house on the High Street. This was the most exclusive street in town; each house had a long back garden which swept down to the sea. To live here a person had to be in the upper echelons of society. And his relatives now were.
When Clarence and Marina had first married, he was only on the lower rungs of his family’s thriving shipping business. But after his two brothers died young—one of a heart attack, the other in a train crash in France—Clarence was suddenly and unexpectedly the heir.
Clarence was lucky to have a father who understood he could not mourn too long for his dead sons. He knew he must put his youngest through his paces and train him to run Venables and Sons as fast as possible. Otherwise disaster might reign.
Jacob Venables had been well satisfied with Clarence within the year, realizing that his last-born child was extremely intelligent, practical, and a true businessman. He far outshot his late brothers and would lead the company into new worlds of shipping, ensuring the future of the business.
Clarence had taken to James at once. When he had arrived with Esther six months ago, Clarence was impressed by his height, his looks, his manners, and his general demeanor. He had not seen the boy for six years. Now James was a young man, and an impressive one at that.
James swiftly bonded with his uncle and made a point of letting him know about his knowledge of wine, learned from his grandfather, and Philip’s many books. Clarence promised him a trip to Le Havre in the not-too-distant future, the next time he went to visit their warehouses.
Esther had stayed two weeks in Hull, enjoying being with her sister and the Venables family, while getting James settled in with them. He was to work with Clarence and learn about the shipping business, and at the same time help Clarence to develop and refine his wine-importing division.
Before she left, Esther took James aside and said quietly, “Behave. Don’t get into any squabbles or quarrels. Not with anyone. And protect yourself and the women you might take out. Don’t forget what your grandfather explained. Also, you must never kiss and tell. Be the gentleman you are. Always.”
He had given his promise, and she had kissed him good-bye at the railway station and gone back on the train to London and Regent’s Park and the grand house where she worked.
There were moments when James fell down into sadness when he thought of Denny. His friend had never recovered from his injuries, and then died quite suddenly a few days after James had left King’s Hospital. The attack on them still came back to haunt James, even though it was nine months ago already.
Like his grandmother, the word “WHY” loomed in his mind from time to time. There was no answer. Even Scotland Yard had come up with nothing, and the people at Tango Rose had been of no help. They were as mystified as everyone else.
As best he could, James always tried to put these sorrowful thoughts to one side and attempted to get on with his life. He was to stay a year in Hull, and then he would return to London. He still had his plan in his head and aimed to put it into operation when he was nineteen. He would go and see Mr. Henry Malvern and inquire about the possibility of a job at the Piccadilly office of the Malvern company. By then he would have a year’s experience with Great-Uncle Clarence, from whom he expected to learn a lot.
* * *
Within the first few weeks of living in Hull, James had made quite a few friends. He was rather chuffed that people seemed to like him so much. The one person he cared about most was his cousin William Venables, the eldest son of his great-aunt and great-uncle. William still lived at home because his fiancée, Elizabeth, had died of a rare blood disease three years earlier. He had been brokenhearted, had not yet linked up with another woman, and liked the comfort of being with his parents. William was twenty-six, quite a bit older than James. Albert, the younger son, was twenty-two. Albert was married to a nice young woman called Anne. They lived in a small house on the outskirts of Hull. But James found Albert somewhat remote, a rather taciturn young man. Their paths did not cross too often, which pleased James. Albert was antagonistic, obviously disliked him.
James and William worked together in the wine division of the shipping company, and they learned from each other as the weeks went by. They also spent their free time together, attending events, going to dances, parties, and the theater, but only on Saturday and Sunday. They were similar in disposition, putting work before pleasure. James had soon realized he was not exactly a party animal.
James’s mind, as always, was focused on advancement. He had drive, ambition, dedication, and determination. His aim was to reach the top. Only then, when he was a merchant prince, would he be truly happy.
For someone as good-looking as he was, he was not at all vain nor was he a dandy. But he had been trained by his grandmother always to look stylish in an underplayed way, neat and clean, and no flash. And so tonight as he stood in front of the cheval mirror in his bedroom he eyed himself intently, making sure he looked appropriate for the supper ahead.
Nodding to himself, he stepped away from the mirror, went over to the desk under the window, sat down and wrote notes to his siblings, Rossi and Eddie. He did that every Saturday and also wrote letters to his parents and grandparents, who appreciated hearing from him on a regular basis. He noticed the date on the calendar. It was Saturday, April 14, 1888. He had been here in this house since November of 1887. How time flies, he thought as he went back to the mirror, straightened his cravat, and left the room. Six months in Hull. Certainly he had enjoyed every minute.
Tonight his aunt and uncle were giving a small supper, and he was looking forward to it. Afterwards, he and William would go out on the town, as most young men did, maybe to visit a music hall, attend one of the dances, or simply have a few cups of champagne at one of the many bars or cafés.
They lived in a male-dominated culture. All men had strong friendships with other men, and their wives were usually left at home to look after the children. Hull was slightly different in that it was a town dedicated to gaiety and fun. Women were certainly needed when it came to the dances, parties, and balls. Nonetheless, many men went around in groups, especially those who gambled and frequented the gambling clubs. He did not gamble, and neither did William. They mainly kept to themselves, just the two of them, only occasionally joining with a couple of like-minded friends. James and William had become confidants and would remain close all of their lives.
On the landing at the top of the stairs, James paused for a moment and settled into his jacket, thinking how happy his grandmother would be if she could see him tonight. He looked smart in a quiet way, just the way she wanted him to be. It would please her that he was considered to be quite the gentleman by the hostesses who invited him to their suppers and dances. How lucky he was to have relatives like the Venableses. His aunt and uncle were warm and loving and William was his best friend. Pretty young women chased after him, and he even had one woman who was extremely infatuated with him. Lucky me, he thought. And then added under his breath, “And I know I have a dangerous enemy in these parts, one I must be extremely wary of at all times.”