| |
Caught in a whirlwind
––––––––
January 1901
Whatever plans anyone had for the week or even for the rest of the month, Tuesday January 22nd put a stop to all of them. As news of the death of Queen Victoria filtered through, the entire country went into mourning. The papers wrote endless columns about her reign and her achievements, detailing her life from child to queen, and all she endured. Crowds gathered in open places, black armbands appeared on the sleeves of men from the lowliest workers to the highest in political power. Women draped in black, talked and wept for the poor woman who had lived a long and dignified life as a much-loved and respected monarch, but who suffered in her personal life. Workplaces closed, and the New Zealand ensign flew at half mast alongside the Union Jack on poles tied with black crape.
As the days passed, people sought news of every detail of what would happen next and the all-important question of when her funeral would take place. Albert, her estranged eldest son, whom she blamed for causing her beloved husband’s death decades earlier, had become the new monarch as Edward VII. His reputation as a playboy gave cause for much speculation and a healthy degree of cynicism.
Alice paid little heed to anything other than the date of Queen Victoria’s funeral: Saturday February 2nd.
“Oh, Eli. What shall we do?” Visibly distressed, Alice took both Elias’s hands in hers. “We can’t get married on the same day as the funeral. It wouldn’t be seemly, not that anyone would marry us anyway.”
Elias wrapped his arms around Alice and nestled her against his shoulder. She was much shorter than him and he loved the protective feeling coursing through his veins whenever he held her like this. She fixed her arms around his waist and tilted her head back. With their faces close together and their breath entwined, their lips were drawn to each other like a magnet. They kissed long and deep, their hands and arms in constant motion in an effort to draw closer to each other.
“Well then, my little sweet pea,” said Elias, when they separated their lips long enough to breathe, “my suggestion is we get married sooner. Today if we can.”
“Oh, Eli. Can we?” sighed Alice, dewy-eyed, taking a step back.
“Why not? Everything is in place, is it not? You have a dress to wear, I have the licence. What more do we need?”
Alice, always a little more practical than him, knew what was and what wasn’t possible. Her curls bounced as she shook her head. “We need a minister or registrar to start with, and witnesses and oh, I don’t know what else right this minute – but we could do the day after tomorrow.” Her eyes shone the more she thought about the possibilities. “Wednesday January 30th – it’s a half-holiday – and ...” Her inflection changed. “Eli?”
Still holding her hands in front of him, Elias laughed. “What are you angling for now?”
“I’d like to ask ... that is, you ... No ... I should ...” For once Alice didn’t quite know how to say what was on her mind.
“Come on, out with it. What’re you talking about?”
Alice took a deep breath. “Would you mind if Gwenna came?” she said in a rush.
“Gwenna?” First Janetta, and now Alice. What plan are these women hatching? He let her go and rubbed his hands through his hair.
“I want her to be my bridesmaid or matron of honour or whatever you call a married woman, except she isn’t married any more. Oh dear. And,” Alice rushed on without a break. “I’d like a hot chocolate after the ceremony with some of Tillie’s fudge, and your mam’s Welsh cakes and try those Glamorgan sausages I’ve heard about and ...”
He put his hands on her shoulders and bent down to face her, eye to eye. “Slow down, Alice. This is the first I’ve heard of any of this. What are you talking about?”
She blushed a bright pink from her chest all the way up to her hairline. Alice dropped her head, before raising it again to find him at her eye level. “I’ve been talking with ...”
Elias’s hands dropped from her shoulders. “Janetta,” he interrupted as he straightened up, recalling his sister’s suggestion. “That explains it. What’s she persuaded you into?”
“She’s not persuaded me, Eli. One day, Janie called when you were out with Dad and we got talking. I love Gwenna’s sweet shop.”
“What? You’ve been there?” Elias was bewildered. There was so much he didn’t know.
“Oh yes, all the time,” admitted Alice. “And I want to be part of who they are. I want us to be part of a whole family. Please, Eli. For me. It’s truly what I want.”
Elias still struggled with his old thoughts and feelings of blame towards the people who personified all he hated about himself. Now Alice wanted to drag him back into their fold. He couldn’t do it – he just couldn’t.
He turned away from her, paced, took deep breaths. “Alice. Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”
“Of course. But it’s nothing more than you are capable of, Eli.”
Alice sounded so calm, so sure, Elias struggled to comprehend they were talking about the same subject. He was also battling to keep his temper controlled.
“That’s not the point. You’ve said what you want, but what about what I want, Alice? What about me?”
She moved towards him and placed a hand on his arm. “This is about you, Eli. You’ll be better for ...”
“Better! You have no idea what you’re talking about. I want nothing to do with the Price family.” He brushed her hand from his arm and glared at her.
But Alice wasn’t easily put off. “Your mother is a Price, and I know you want to see her. Gwenna technically is a Jones, even if she has kept the Price name – it’s the name of a business – not a trap. And what’s Tillie done to you? Or Janetta for that matter? And hasn’t she asked your advice about Mrs Evans? I’ve not met her, but she sounds nice. And the little ones – and Charlie. What did they ever do to wrong you?”
His head ached with all her questions. “Alice. You must listen. I want nothing to do with any of them. My life was ruined because of them. I won’t go back. I won’t. All I want is you as my wife, wood to work and a future together, just you and me.”
“Honestly, Eli. You’re being silly now. They didn’t ruin your life. Nobody did. You simply hadn’t found what you wanted to do before. But you have now. And you can’t isolate yourself from reality. They are your family. They exist. They live a few streets away. You can’t pretend they don’t.”
The more Alice talked, the more agitated and perplexed he became.
“I can and I will.” He grabbed his hat from the peg on the door and left before he could say anything he would later regret.
But once outside and striding up the road, he didn’t quite know where to go. It was too early in the day to go to the pub – not that he wanted to any more. He enjoyed a quiet ale at the end of the day with Woody, but he didn’t want to get drunk any longer. For one thing, Alice complained at the smell and refused to come close to him for days. But mostly because it reminded him of the person he’d once been.
Passing The Edinburgh Castle reeking of that potent brewery smell Alice objected to, he strode the length of Newton Road. The climb up the hill to the junction of Ponsonby Road had him panting, but today he was glad of the exercise. The fresh air in his lungs stirred his brain into action.
One block along Ponsonby Road he stood and stared across the tops of the trees growing in Western Park and admired the harbour that had captured his affection after so many years of blaming it for his problems. He’d discovered so much about himself of late, thanks to Alice. A sense of peace filled him.
He’d never been known for soul-searching. His attendance at church had been more for appearances than true faith, and he’d never been certain what the words faith and truth meant.
Reflecting on what had brought him so low, he could see how his guilt had obscured much of the truth. Now, embarrassment and shame held him back from admitting fault to anyone.
How could a man, a real man, confess to such failure?
But Janetta believed he could. She had asked him to forgive – and, specifically, to forgive himself – if not forget, and to allow them to welcome Alice into the family circle. Alice had asked him to do the same. Could he trust them not to look at him with contempt as they used to look at the other person he used to be? Could he trust them not to tell Alice what he’d been like? Could he trust Alice to continue to love him when she learnt how contemptible he had once been? And she would, one day she would. Could he forgive himself and let the past go?
“Mr Hughes?” a voice queried behind him.
He turned to be greeted by Hugh Powell.
Elias felt a wave of pity fill his heart. The man was half what he used to be. Elias extended his hand, which Hugh accepted limply. “It’s good to see you back, Hugh. How are you?”
Hugh nodded, acknowledging Elias’s words, but made no comment.
“I’ve seen you around, watching the shop,” said Hugh without any recrimination. “I hear you are quite successful these days.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” began Elias, surprised by the other man’s acclaim.
“I’m glad for your good fortune. And I want to thank you,” said Hugh.
“Thank me?” Astonishment complete, Elias blurted, “Whatever for?”
“For giving Gwenna ... begging your pardon, sir, Mrs Price, that is ... for giving her a chance and the ... well, freedom, I suppose is the word, to fulfil her dreams. It was good of you to walk away and hand the business over to her. She won’t let you down.”
Elias was too dumbfounded to comment.
Hugh raised his hat. “Good day, Mr Hughes. And I believe congratulations are in order, too.”
The ability to speak escaped him. Elias touched his hat and watched the other man walk off towards Karangahape Road. Why would anyone – Gwenna most of all – care one way or the other about letting him down?
He couldn’t make sense of the encounter any more than he could fathom why Janie and Alice thought him worthy of forgiveness. Hugh had just given Elias credit for something he had done for himself. His motives had been entirely selfish, an act of self-preservation rather than anything noble or honest. Yet his decision had earned their respect.
Just then, a group of young men in a jovial frame of mind walked past him, heading down Ponsonby Road.
One of them slapped Elias on the shoulder. “The Queen is dead, long live the King,” he chanted, dancing round in a circle. “Change is coming, I can feel it in the air.”
For the second time in as many minutes, Elias seemed unable to form a coherent thought, and his mouth was too dry to wrap his tongue around any words he might have formed.
Another of the young men said, “Cheer up, man. We’re sorry the Queen is dead too, but we’re on the brink of a new era and the possibilities are endless. We’ve a new King and a chance our luck will change.”
They carried on their way leaving Elias staring after them, with the words ‘new’ and ‘chance’ and ‘change’ swirling in his head. After a few minutes, he headed along Karangahape Road with a new resolve.
