Chapter Four
Martin and Mary insisted on accompanying them to Edinburgh, where they stayed overnight. With everyone holding their feelings in check, the parting at Waverley Station was nevertheless a tearful one, with Martin extracting promises from Pauline and James to get in touch if the necessity arose.
Conversation as far as York was desultory, with Alistair and Olivia uncertain whether to try to distract their friends or leave them to their thoughts.
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.’
‘I expect she would,’ replied James, surprised at his sister’s observation but deciding that if this was her attitude, he would go along with it. It would be for the best and would enable her to come to terms all the sooner with the devastating loss they had just suffered. ‘I’m glad to find you so reconciled to your new condition. I hope it won’t be a setback to have to sit through the reading of the Will tomorrow? I received a note from old Mr Witherspoon, Father’s solicitor. He would like to come here tomorrow morning at ten to read the Will. I sent word back that it would be acceptable. I hope you agree?’
Lena nodded. ‘Yes, I do. How were things at the office?’
‘Ralph had looked after everything, but of course he couldn’t make any major decisions.’
‘Have there been any to make?’
‘No. It has been a quiet time, though the growth of the Empire generally suggests there may well be chances for expansion for the more far-sighted.’
She nodded. ‘Father did mention that possibility to me two months ago.’
James started. ‘He never said anything of it to me.’ The sudden harshness in his voice with was not lost on Lena.
She was quick to come to her father’s defence. ‘It was just a casual remark he made one day when I visited the office. I don’t know where you were - possibly at the Wanderer. She had just docked with a cargo from the West Indies. Her arrival may have prompted him to suggest there were further opportunities to be had in that direction.’
James felt a pang of jealousy that Lena had been taken into their father’s confidence and that this possible development had not been mentioned to him personally. He tried to persuade himself that it had been merely an oversight on Father’s part or that such an advance was not an immediate proposition. Nevertheless, it did raise a query in his mind - had John left any provision in his Will to involve Lena in the future running of the firm?
Similar thoughts entertained her mind as she settled into bed for the night. Lena admitted to herself that she had experienced a touch of delight to discover that her father had confided something in her and not in James. Did this signify she would be permitted, by a clause in his Will, to have a say in the future management of the family firm?
She felt secretly sure that it would be so. After all, her father had always encouraged her interest in the business and how it was run. Tomorrow would reveal all.
Walter Witherspoon arrived at precisely ten o’clock. The maid who answered the door had been instructed about his arrival. After taking his hat and coat she escorted him to the drawing-room where Lena and James were awaiting him.
The solicitor was nervous and it showed in the way his narrow shoulders, set on a thin frame, seemed to stoop more, giving him a hunched appearance and the impression that he was peering at whomever he addressed. In spite of forty years spent in the profession he had entered at the age of twenty-five, he had never grown easy about reading Wills to bereaved relations, for he had never mastered the art of expressing commiserations and sympathy.
‘Mr Witherspoon.’ A friendly tone in his voice, James rose from his chair and extended a hand in welcome.
The solicitor felt his own bony hand crushed in its firm grip. He gulped a little but managed to splutter, ‘Mr James . . . er . . . Mr Carnforth. I’m sorry for your loss.’ He turned quickly to Lena who sat in a chair, hands primly placed together on her lap. ‘Miss Carnforth, my commis—er . . . commiserations.’ He bowed to her. ‘A terrible loss.’
Lena inclined her head. ‘Indeed, Mr Witherspoon.’ Then she added quickly, to relieve his nervous embarrassment, ‘You’ll take some chocolate?’
‘Very kind, Miss Carnforth. Very kind indeed.’
She glanced at her brother who was already on his way to the bell-pull beside the fireplace, to send the prearranged signal to the servants’ quarters for chocolate to be served, with the result that two maids appeared with the necessary items almost before the solicitor was seated in the chair James had placed for him.
When the cup of chocolate was put beside him and the maids had left the room, Mr Witherspoon cleared his throat.
‘It is a simple Will. Would you like me to read it in its entirety or would you prefer me to summarise it and leave a copy for you to peruse at your leisure?’ he asked, his eyes darting from one to the other of them.
‘Summary?’ queried James, glancing at his sister.
‘If that is satisfactory?’ she agreed, addressing the solicitor.
He nodded, relieved that this meeting need not be prolonged. ‘Very well.’ He took a drink of chocolate as if to draw strength from it. ‘Your father made this Will two years ago. Obviously your mother was provided for in the case of his death, but under the present circumstances those provisions no longer apply and so the whole of your father’s estate is directed as per the other clauses in the will.
‘There are bequests to members of your staff, according to their rank and length of service. You will be able to read these for yourself, but I assure you while your father has been generous they are amply taken care of by the return from his investments. To you, Miss Carnforth, he has left this house and all its contents, with a request that you give your brother a home here until such time as he marries. He has also made you a very generous regular allowance, which again is financed by his investments. I must say, your father was very shrewd in where he placed his money. I have consulted with Mr Chapman at the bank and he assures me that the investments are sound. However, if the bank deems it wise to cash them, the capital will come to you, Miss Carnforth, and in the case of the servants the capital linked to them will be divided proportionately, according to the terms of the Will.
‘Now we come to the business. The first item here concerns your manager and two clerks. They are each given a lump sum, to do with as they wish. That money will be taken directly from the business. The rest, and all other assets connected with it, go to Mr James.’
Lena gave a little gasp but stifled it quickly. Though her mind whirled at this news and she sensed the delight in James, she forced herself to concentrate on what Mr Witherspoon was saying.
‘However, Mr James, your father has made certain provisos. He wants to see the name of the firm, “John Carnforth and Children”, as he set it up many years ago, remain the same so that Miss Carnforth still feels she is connected to the business. He says in the Will that he hopes you,’ his eyes fixed on James, ‘will continue to expand the firm. With this in mind, he has set up various funds, the details of which are in the hands of the bank - Mr Chapman will enlighten you.’
The solicitor paused, cleared his throat and then said, ‘I have covered the main items but there is one other clause I think I had better mention verbally. Your father expresses the hope that Miss Carnforth should continue to show an interest in the firm, as she has done all her life. He does stress, however, that it must be without interference, though she is entitled to look at the accounts because a small proportion of the profit from the business goes into the investments that provide for and increase her income as the years pass. These provisions for Miss Carnforth continue in force even if she marries. You can read the details in the copies of the Will I will leave with you. Another will be deposited in my office and a copy will go to the bank.’ He tapped the table in front of him as if to indicate that was the end of the matter.
There was a moment’s silence and then James, looking at his sister, asked, ‘Have you any questions?’
She shook her head, unable to speak as the disappointment about the business churned in her mind.
‘Nor have I, Mr Witherspoon,’ said James, drawing the matter to a close. ‘Thank you for coming and for offering us the explanation so clearly.’ He rose from his chair.
The solicitor did likewise. Relieved that this was over, he made a hasty goodbye to Lena and followed James from the room.
With the closing of the door Lena felt as if part of life had been closed to her. It seemed as if her father had ignored all the interest she had shown in the firm. Surely he had realised that she wanted to participate in it; to be involved in its day-to-day running? She realised he had never given her any responsibility within the firm to date, but she had hoped that would come. She slapped her thigh in frustration. Why hadn’t she spoken to him about it, asked to be trusted in this way? Had she misjudged her own father? Was he like others who thought that the worlds of the ship-owner and merchant were the exclusive domain of men, barred to women? He had never voiced that opinion so she had thought he held more liberal views. Now she chided herself for her own shortsightedness. Her lips tightened. There was nothing she could do about it - oh she could show an interest as her father had indicated, but that was all; she could go no further. Why had he laid down such rules? After all, she was his blood child while James was not, and yet he was the one who was going to get what she most desired. Lena stamped her foot. Why hadn’t she been born a boy?
The door opened then and her brother came into the room. ‘Well, Father has left you comfortably off,’ he commented as he went to pour a glass of Madeira.
A retort sprang to Lena’s lips then but, as hurt as her feelings were, she held the words back. She did not want to alienate her brother or show dissatisfaction at their father’s Will. She would abide by it. There were other ways to enter the world where her heart lay, even though she was a woman. Oh, why had Alistair become a doctor? Why hadn’t he been interested in his father’s business, then she could have . . .