When James descended from the railway carriage onto the platform in Hull, the first person he saw was William Venables hurrying toward him, waving, a huge smile on his face.
James waved back and went to meet him, carrying his suitcase. As they came together, James dropped the case and the two men embraced.
“I am so glad you could make it,” William said as they drew apart. “It’s been a long while since we’ve seen each other.”
“I know, too long,” James replied, grimaced, and added, “My fault, I’m afraid, but the last six months have been well, sort of crazy, as far as work is concerned.”
“Your grandmother told my mother that Mr. Malvern is keeping you very busy.”
“That’s true, but I’m learning a lot and he’s actually a nice man, very fair.”
“Good to know. I’ve got the carriage waiting. Papa is at the warehouse in town, and I said I would pick him up at five. He doesn’t know you’re coming to stay for Easter, so you’ll be a big surprise. Mama and I decided to keep your visit a secret.”
A faint smile crossed James’s face as he fell into step with William. They hurried down the platform to the exit. It was Thursday, the April 18, 1889, and the next day would be Good Friday. Having been in Harrogate and Leeds checking the Malvern arcades, James had taken the opportunity to visit his relatives in Humberside, who were forever inviting him to come and stay.
Griff, his great-uncle’s head driver, was standing outside the carriage, smoking a cigarette as they left the railway station. Immediately, he dropped the Woodbine and stamped it out when they arrived.
After giving James a warm and cheerful greeting, Griff put the suitcase in the carriage, and the two men climbed inside. Within minutes, the horses were off at a good trot, heading toward the center of Hull.
Once they had settled into their seats, William said, “It’s your birthday next month, James, do you have any special plans?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. Nobody does. I told my parents I didn’t want a fuss, just to have a family supper. I said the same to my grandparents as well. They spent a lot of money on my birthday last year, and it’s not right.” A grin spread across his face, and he exclaimed, “I can’t believe I’ll be nineteen. This past year seems to have flown.” He glanced at William. “Why did you ask about my birthday?”
“I thought I would come up to town and spend a few days there, but if you’re busy with your family, I do understand.”
“But you’re family, too. You can join us. Uncle Harry will be cooking in my mother’s kitchen, and you’ll enjoy his food. Uncle George will give you all the latest gossip running rampant on Fleet Street. You’ll have a bit of fun.”
William was smiling and nodding. “I’d love to come. Maybe I could take you to see a play in the West End, as a birthday treat. I think Lillie Langtry might be in a new one.”
“I’d like that, William. I’ll ask Uncle George what’s new, and if she’s in anything at the moment.”
“So it’s settled then?”
“Of course it is. It’s something to look forward to. When I tell my grandmother, she’ll be really chuffed.”
It was not too far to the Venables warehouse. Soon the carriage was pulling up to the steps which led down into the yard where it stood on a lower level. It was brand new, built to replace the one which had collapsed after the storm.
“Come on, James, come with me to pick up Papa. The men will be around and they’d like to see you; that I do know. You’ll always be their hero.”
There was indeed a flurry of excitement when James walked into the warehouse with William. Within seconds they were flocking around the two of them. Joe, who had always revered James, was right in the front line, grinning from ear to ear.
The noise, excitement, and cheering brought Clarence Venables out of his office, and when he spotted James he too was instantly filled with pleasure.
Hurrying over, he cut his way through the workmen and went up to James, shook his hand, beaming. “What a surprise this is, and such a nice one.” He turned to his son. “I bet it was you and your mother who cooked this up,” he said, laughter bubbling.
“Sort of, Papa. When James let me know he would be in Leeds, I suggested he pop over to spend Easter with us.”
After some friendly bantering, a bit of chitchat with the men, Clarence said he would go and collect his things. He headed for the corridor leading to his office.
A few minutes later they followed him. As they passed another office, the door opened suddenly. Standing there staring at them was Albert, a look of fury crossing his face when he realized James was with William.
He rushed at him, glaring, and punched him hard in the stomach, hissing, “I’ll get you one day, you bastard! I swear to God I’ll get you, Falconer. You’ll be done for.”
Albert was about to hit James again, but did not succeed. William, in a rage, stepped in between them. He grabbed hold of Albert and said, “You little twerp, get out of my way. And if you ever go so much as a yard near James, you’ll answer to me. And to Papa. You know what that means!” William swiped a finger across his own throat, and added, “Curtain time for you, you nasty bugger.”
He pulled Albert into the office, let go of him, and left at once. Closing the door behind him, William noticed that James was holding his stomach. He hurried to him. “Are you all right? Did that idiot hurt you?”
James swallowed and endeavored to straighten up. After a few minutes, he said in a strangled voice, “I’ll be fine. It was a hard punch, though. I hope he hasn’t broken my rib.”
“So do I.” William took hold of James’s arm and they walked down to Clarence’s office. At one moment, William stopped, and said in a low voice, “Let’s keep this to ourselves. Papa will go mad if he finds out, and it’ll dominate the next few days.”
“Silent as a mouse,” James murmured.
* * *
Much later that evening, long after they had enjoyed a relaxed evening together and then retired, James got out of bed and went to stand at the window. He stared out at the North Sea and realized how much he had missed this particular view. Earlier, when he had first arrived, his great-aunt had given him the picture she had painted for him.
In the moonlight streaming in through the window, he could see it now, propped up in a chair. It was a marvelous painting, and he had told her he would treasure it always. And he would.
He sighed to himself and went and sat in the other chair, thinking about Albert. The altercation had disturbed him more than he had let on. The man’s hatred did not frighten him, because he was not easily frightened by anyone or anything. On the other hand, a crazy, somewhat deranged man spelled danger to him because that kind of person was unpredictable. He must now be on guard when Albert was in the vicinity. He was an enemy.
His thoughts turned to Georgianna Ward. He had not seen her for months, since December, in fact. They had met for one more supper together, and then she had gone to the country to be with her sister Deanna in January.
When a letter had arrived from her two weeks ago, he had been excited as he opened it, having recognized her handwriting. But her letter had been to tell him that she had put her house in London up for sale.
She had moved permanently to the country, not only to be close to her sister, but for her own safety. The fogs had damaged her health, she had said. She could no longer live in the city. She had written how much their relationship had meant to her, how she would never forget him. She finished by wishing him well, forecasting that he would have a splendid life.
And that was that.
He had understood, but, nonetheless, he had realized he had now lost his only friend in London, and certainly a woman for whom he had enormous affection and respect.
It was over. He had always known that it would be one day. The age difference and class difference were too disparate. Nevertheless, for all that, he would still miss her, his lovely Mrs. Ward.