CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
JOE AND CARTER knocked out the front door and windows and then the ones upstairs. Mr Newby had visited and enthusiastically agreed that doing so would make an immense improvement. Bella had told him that her mother wanted plate-glass windows on either side of a wood and glass door to let in as much light as possible, the bottom third of the windows to be sandblasted for privacy from people passing by in the street, and the glass in the door to be etched with a design incorporating the sea.
‘Because it’s called ’Maritime,’ Bella emphasized, seeing the brewer’s astonishment.
‘Yes, yes, I realize why,’ Newby agreed. ‘I’m just thinking of the cost.’
‘You’ll onny have to pay once,’ Bella said calmly. ‘And think how grand it’ll look when it’s finished.’
‘This is a town establishment,’ she had said previously to Joe and her mother, ‘and we can make it into a place where men can bring their wives for an evening out.’
Nell had butted in and said ‘or after going to ’theatre’ when they hadn’t realized she was listening; and it was Joe who had said that some men might prefer a room where they could drop in after work and have a couple of glasses of ale without their womenfolk. Bella then suggested to Mr Newby that the side door might be used as an entrance to the bar where customers who perhaps only wanted one or maybe two drinks could slip in and stand at the counter rather than going through the front, where there would be chairs and tables in what she described as the saloon.
Mr Newby agreed and said he had heard that having a separate bar for single drinkers was catching on in London, and that in some of the saloons – he pronounced it salons – screens of wood and glass subdivided the room.
‘Oh, yes,’ Bella said eagerly. ‘So that people can have a private conversation.’
Sarah had sniffed at that. ‘I might onny be an innkeeper,’ she said, ‘but I’ll have no shenanigans in my house. And,’ she added, ‘the bar’ll be for men only. I’ll not have ladies of ’night popping in looking for custom.’
Mr Newby had nodded vigorously and commented that he was quite sure that no one would possibly dare to try shenanigans or any other impudence with such a respectable lady in charge. He went away satisfied and ready to explain to his partner Mr Allen that their money was quite safe.
Christmas came upon them a week after the windows were glazed, but the door was a temporary one until the etching of the glass was finished. Their plan was to get everything ready for the third week in January and have a grand opening.
Sarah cooked a goose and invited Carter to eat Christmas dinner with them; he readily accepted. He’d told them that he had lodgings in the town but that the landlady wasn’t much of a cook; Bella had reason to doubt him for he often arrived in a morning looking as if he had slept out all night. Sarah also suggested to Bella that she might like to invite Reuben Jacobs, but she mildly replied that she was fairly sure he didn’t celebrate Christmas, so why didn’t they invite him to have a meal with them at the New Year.
Alice usually ate heartily as if she must make the most of every little morsel, but on Christmas Day she looked and seemed rather sad and picked at her food. Bella asked her if she was thinking about her family in Holderness; Alice nodded and said she was worried that they wouldn’t have enough to eat.
Bella’s glance caught her mother’s and Sarah said, ‘We’ll have a chat about wages after Christmas, Alice, seeing as you’ve worked so hard. You too, Carter,’ she added, ‘although there might not be so much for you to do once we’re finished wi’ renovations.’
Carter looked disappointed. ‘I could mebbe help out in ’bar when you’re busy, weekends ’n’ that. I know how to serve beer and I’d soon learn how to work ’pumps.’
‘Do you, Carter?’ Bella asked, thinking about his confession that he was a drunk when he was near alcohol. ‘How come?’
‘My da kept a beer house down in High Street when I was a lad, but he died when I was twenty and Ma had to move out. We moved from place to place and then she married again and there was no room for me.’
Sarah carved him another slice of goose and put it on his plate. ‘How long ago was that?’
Carter shrugged. ‘Seven, eight years ago. I’m thirty now.’
He looks much older, Bella thought. His skin was rough and pockmarked, and although he was much cleaner than when they had first met him, his clothes were shabby and he was badly in need of another haircut. It would be a risk taking him on, she considered, and he might encourage Joe in his drinking habits.
Joe had not taken a drink since they’d moved here, probably because they hadn’t yet taken delivery from the brewery, but immediately after Christmas it would arrive. The casks would be put into the cellar, the inside entrance to which they had discovered disguised and hidden behind a wallpapered door in what was to become the saloon. On going down the stone steps they again found dog hair and something that looked like dried blood.
Carter had volunteered to clean it, as Alice had shuddered at the mention of it, and it was now scrubbed and dry; Joe had made more shelves for the bottles of wine and spirits and put up brackets to hold oil lamps, for there was no gas light down here, unlike the rest of the building.
They had asked the brewery to have gas lamps put up outside the front door and over the side entrance so that customers would find their way without hindrance and any troublemakers would be deterred.
Everyone was getting excited at the prospect of the opening and the doubts they had initially had were beginning to fade. When Christmas was over, if the weather remained dry, the brewery had commissioned a decorator to paint the outside walls of the Maritime in a cream colour and the window and door frames in black. Joe, Carter and Bella wallpapered the inside walls in flocked paper, with the deep skirting and dado rails painted in dark mahogany. Alice polished the tables and chairs, washed and dusted the mirrors, blackleaded the fire grates and cleaned the brass. Even Henry offered to sweep the floors with a brush which was much bigger than himself, whilst Nell, supposedly helping her mother in the kitchen, disappeared from time to time, and because everyone was busy no one could be sure whether she was in or out.
It was one evening the week after Christmas when Sarah glanced at Nell and asked, ‘Have you been up ’fireback, Nell? You’ve got soot on your face.’
Nell put her hand to her cheek and rubbed, but her mother said, ‘No, not there, under your eyes. You look as if you’ve got two black eyes!’
‘Oh,’ Nell said, smoothing her eyelids. ‘It’s all these town chimneys belching out smoke. I was covered in it ’other day.’
Bella said nothing, but she had inadvertently caught Nell slipping out of the side door one day, and had noticed that her lips and cheeks were rosy not from the heat of a fire but from powdered rouge and her eyes were outlined in black.
Where’s she going, she wondered; is she meeting someone and should I tell Ma? She decided against it, because they were all busy trying to get everything ready for the opening and preparing for Henry’s first day at school.
Reuben Jacobs had suggested a dame school in Myton Street, which adjoined Anne Street. ‘Once he is used to being there, he will be able to go by himself,’ he said. ‘He will learn independence.’
Bella was uncertain about that; she was very cautious about allowing Henry to go anywhere alone, but her mother said that was nonsense. ‘You all went to ’village school on your own. I onny ever took you on ’first day.’
‘That was different, Ma,’ Bella said. ‘We already knew ’village bairns, and when I first started I used to follow Joe and William into ’classroom. This will be a much bigger school, with more pupils, and Henry won’t know anybody. He can’t come home on his own.’
‘For goodness’ sake,’ Sarah said impatiently. ‘It’s onny up ’street. Course he can go on his own, can’t you, Henry?’
Henry nodded. ‘Yes, I can, but I don’t need to go to school. I can read already and write my name. Bella showed me.’
Bella ruffled his hair. ‘But there’s a lot more to learn, Henry. You’ll learn about history and kings and queens and other countries. You’ll learn a lot more than I can teach you,’ and she thought a little wistfully about lost opportunities and what Jamie Lucan had once said about being a teacher at a dame school.
‘All right,’ Henry agreed. ‘And when I come home I’ll be able to teach you, Bella.’
‘You will.’ She smiled. ‘And when you become really clever perhaps you could go to ’Grammar School and then to university to be a – doctor or …’ Her voice trailed away as her mother interrupted.
‘Now then, Bella. Don’t be putting daft ideas into his head. We’ve got to accept what and who we are. We’re ordinary working folk. I don’t know a single person of my acquaintance who’s ever become a doctor.’
But I do, Bella thought, and I know that he was a different class from us but why shouldn’t we be able to do ’same if we’re clever enough? Even if she couldn’t achieve what she desired for herself, she would strive to help her little brother to travel any path he wanted.
Friday 16 January was the date of the official opening of the Maritime. Mr Newby, who had come for a final meeting with them, suggested that they open at eleven o’clock and invite some notable people from the town. ‘Business people and trade,’ he said. ‘Shopkeepers and those involved in shipping and fishing. Then word will get round that this is once more a respectable establishment. Mr Allen has said he will come too. In fact it was his idea that we formally invite people.’
Sarah agreed. ‘That’s what we want, some decent folk to give it a good name.’
‘Aye, we do,’ Joe butted in. ‘But we want working men as well. They’ll be our bread and butter, not these well-off blokes from out of town.’
Bella was inclined to agree with Joe. But she guessed that the people Mr Newby and his partner wanted to invite would spread the word, and if they were coming then there would be comments in the local newspapers, the Hull Advertiser or the Eastern Morning News.
‘A mix of customers is what we need,’ she said. ‘We don’t want to exclude anybody. Why don’t we announce on a poster that the official opening is at eleven o’clock and that we’re open for business that night at six and will serve a free slice of fruitcake with ’first glass of ale or spirit?’
Sarah looked askance for a minute. ‘More baking,’ she said. ‘But – well, I allus did it at Christmas at ’Woodman so I suppose I can do it again.’
‘Excellent idea.’ Mr Newby rubbed his hands together. He let his gaze wander around the saloon, which was ready and waiting for customers. ‘Excellent!’
‘What do you think, Nell?’ Bella had noticed that although her sister wasn’t making any contribution to the conversation, she was listening intently. ‘Any ideas?’
‘We could distribute some leaflets to shops and – and theatres mebbe. You know, so that ’audience could come after a show.’
‘Yes!’ Bella said eagerly. ‘There’s one not far from here, isn’t there?’
‘Yes.’ Nell had a pink flush on her cheeks as she spoke. ‘Royal in Humber Street and ’Queen’s in Paragon Street just round ’corner. I could tek them,’ she added eagerly.
‘We’ll see to the printing of leaflets,’ Mr Newby said. ‘We know a printer who can turn them out very quickly.’
And now all of this was completed and in place and all they had left to do was give a final polish to the furniture in the saloon, light fires and put a vase of flowers on the counter. Bella thought wistfully of the snowdrops and aconites that used to grow under the hedge of the paddock at the Woodman but those were no longer available to them; however, she found a flower seller in Whitefriargate, the main shopping street in the town, and bought some early hyacinths brought in from Holland; Joe brought the bottles of brandy, gin and whisky up from the cellar and arranged them on the shelves behind the counter and Bella was relieved to see that they were intact and unopened.
The new mahogany beer engine was in place with its shiny brass taps and Sarah’s choice of pale green and ivory pump handles. The two green ones had a picture of a ship within an elongated oval on them and the two ivory ones had a wave-like pattern of the same green. She’d murmured to Joe and Bella that their father would have approved of them and they’d agreed that he would.
The draymen had been with the beer delivery and a small crowd of interested onlookers had gathered round to watch them carefully lower the casks, held by strong rope, through the open trapdoors to where Joe and Carter were waiting in the cellar below to manoeuvre them into position.
Bella and her mother had bought new grey dresses and long white aprons, with small white caps to cover their hair. Alice had a new black dress and grey apron and she had been given the task of clearing the tables of jugs and glasses and washing them. Finally, to Joe’s delight, they had bought him a long leather apron like the one his father used to wear.
Nell had turned up her nose at the offer of a new grey dress, and both Bella and Sarah knew that she didn’t want to serve either, although she had been shown what to do. ‘I’ll help Alice,’ she said petulantly, ‘and do ’washing up or prepare food in ’kitchen.’
Sarah had decided that they would offer food at dinner time: beef or ham and bread and pickles or meat pies which they would buy from a local butcher she considered was of good standard, so they agreed that Nell could look after that side of things.
‘We don’t want a miserable-looking serving maid,’ Sarah said in an aside to Bella. ‘I don’t know what’s up wi’ lass, I’m sure.’
Bella thought she knew; Nell was still hankering after another kind of life and it wasn’t here with them at the Maritime.
The day dawned, and with the exception of Nell and Henry they were all up early; Carter arrived at seven o’clock in time for breakfast. He’d given a wink at Alice and she put an extra rasher of bacon on his plate. Joe noticed and shot a glance of annoyance at Carter and then at Alice. By nine o’clock there was little left to do. Sarah had taken the last batch of bread out of the oven, the beef and ham was sliced with a damp cloth laid over and plates were stacked ready to serve the food.
‘We’d better pull another couple of pints, Joe,’ Sarah said. They’d already tried the ale after it had settled; Bella had only taken a sip as she wasn’t overfond of it but Joe and Sarah had pronounced it to be good. ‘We want to be sure it’s all right. You and Carter have a glass.’
Bella saw a gleam in Carter’s eyes, but he noticed her looking at him and said, ‘Nay, missis, I’d better not. Don’t want to travel down that road again.’
Joe licked his lips. ‘Shame to let it drain down ’sink,’ he said. ‘I’ll just have a half.’
Mr Newby and Mr Allen were the first to arrive and Bella was surprised to see that Justin Allen was much younger than Mr Newby. He was in his very early thirties and very handsome with his neat moustache and sideburns, and quite charming. She blushed when he spoke to her, which he did quite frequently. And then suddenly it was eleven o’clock and the saloon was full of men: gentlemen in smart attire and carrying top hats or bowlers and others in wool jackets with soft hats who might have been shopkeepers, and there was a hubbub of conversation and laughter.
Reuben Jacobs had also come; when he had come to dinner with them on New Year’s Day Bella had invited him to the opening as he had been so helpful and supportive, but today he stayed very much in the background. Bella and Joe were kept busy drawing beer or serving brandy and gin, Carter was helping Alice to wash glasses and Nell came in and out with plates of food. Mr Newby said a few words about the reopening to the assembled company and then so did Mr Allen, who confirmed that they were greatly indebted to the Thorps, the well-known Holderness innkeeping family who had taken over the Maritime and were united in their determination to make it once again a premier establishment.
Bella and her mother stood side by side as he was speaking and Joe was behind the counter; when Mr Allen had finished, both Bella and her mother dipped their knee in response. Sarah nudged Bella. ‘Say summat, Bella,’ she muttered. ‘Go on, say thank you. You’ll know what to say.’
‘Gentlemen.’ Bella hesitated. She had never before spoken in public – the nearest she had ever been to addressing an audience was when she’d led the assembly at school – but she managed to thank them for their support and hoped that they would see them again soon on a less formal occasion, which raised a smile from most of them and a quizzical eyebrow from Justin Allen.
People finished their drinks and started to drift away shortly afterwards, including Mr Newby and Mr Allen, who shook hands with Joe and gave a courtly bow to Sarah and Bella. As they went out of the door, they held it open for a man coming in.
‘Bart!’ Sarah said.
‘Sarah!’ the portly man replied brusquely. ‘I thought I’d have received an invitation to ’opening seeing as it was me that put your name for’ard.’
Before she could answer, Alice came hurrying through from the kitchen holding an envelope in her hand. ‘Mrs Thorp,’ she said. ‘This was on ’kitchen table.’
‘Whatever is it? Who’s been in my kitchen when me back’s turned?’ Sarah slit open the envelope and slid out the note-paper, and as she read the contents she put a hand to her forehead. ‘No,’ she gasped. ‘No. I can’t believe she’d do such a thing.’
‘What, Ma?’ Bella asked.
‘She’s left home,’ Sarah said, her voice breaking. ‘Our Nell. She’s run off with ’theatre folk.’