Open Writing

The early evening was still bright and warm and Beth agreed when he suggested they stop for refreshment at the Bath Hotel at the village of Layton. The river here ran through meadows that nestled below grass banked hills. The buildings and factory chimneys of Bradfield were a mile away. Thirty years before, the hamlet of Layton had attempted to become a spa to rival Harrogate.

Baths, fed by an underground spring, had been designed and built alongside the river. Decorative bridges were erected that led to sheltered paths and walkways beneath a wooded ridge. The Bath Hotel had been constructed a hundred yards from the river. Between the two were rose gardens and romantic biers. The hotel offered accommodation, alcohol, games, a bowling green, entertainments and music.

They sat at a table in the garden and Robert had beer and Beth a glass of lemonade and they ate ham and cheese sandwiches.

"I used to come here with the Colonel," he said. "After a day's business in Bradfield, he would take the waters and steam out the brandy he’d drunk."

The Colonel would spend the day consulting his lawyer, Mr Hypolite Baines, conduct a modicum of business in the Cloth Hall, and discuss politics and the world with other gentlemen of standing in The George. The concept of a nearby spa had not been out of place.

Now the mills were reaching out from Bradfield along the river and there were chimneys in Layton itself. The dreams of a spa had died as industry took over and soon, he supposed, the village would be swallowed by the town which was expanding at an ever increasing rate. It had splendid new buildings and a magnificent railway station. London was now reached in half a day by steam train whereas before it had taken two and a half days by coach. Wealth was blatant everywhere, except in the homes of the ordinary working man.

Beth said, "You’ve been lost in thought the whole way back."

He smiled.

"There has been plenty to think about." He stared at her evenly. "Tell me, Beth, how best I can help your parents?"

"Help them?"

"I have the means to help them. I really am wealthy. I could buy them a home and settle a sum upon them to keep them in comfort for the rest of their lives. Should I do that?"

Her mouth opened and he saw that, for once, she was lost for words.
Consternation made her look vulnerable. It made her look very young and, for a moment, he worried for his sleeve.

"You have such wealth?" she said.

"I have."

"How?"

He laughed.

"You are very direct, Beth Pallister."

Robert said it loudly in jest and she glanced around.

"Perhaps you should start calling me Jenny."

He leaned forward so they could not be overheard and said, "You need never be Jenny again. I'm rich and you are part of my family. You can be whoever you want to be." Her expression was less than delighted. She saw problems that he did not. "What's the matter?" he said.

"I’m not sure." She frowned. "I like being Jenny. Most of the time, at least. How did you earn such money, that you can make such promises?"

"I didn't earn it, I found it," he said, and again enjoyed her expression of incredulity that caused her eyes to open wide. "In a gold mine in California."

"A gold mine?" Now her voice was raised and she blushed and glanced around. She also leaned forward and repeated in a low voice, "A gold mine?"

"I was lucky. The rush started in '49 and I was there early. I discovered a rich seam and dug myself a fortune."

"Goodness gracious."

"Yes, indeed," he said. "Goodness gracious. Now, what can I do for your mother and father?"

"I don't know, I'm sure."

"I formed the impression your father is not in the best of health."

"You are quite right."

"So perhaps the first thing is to ease his worry about having to work."

Beth nodded but still appeared to be wrestling with problems.

"This is silly, I know, but mam and dad have their pride. I don't know how they would feel about accepting your charity."

"It isn't charity. They're my family, all I've got. Isn't it reasonable for me to wish to take care of them?"

She regarded him with a hint of suspicion.

"Look,'' she said. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure than having their future secured. For one thing," she said tartly, "it would relieve me of a certain responsibility and allow me to go to London."

"You still want to go to London?"

Her eyes were wide and her face serious.

"You may have made your fortune, Robert Dyce, but mine is still out there."

"Why bother? There is one on offer right here?"

"Because I, too, have my pride."

His enthusiasm had carried him away. He had misjudged her reaction to the offer of money. Perhaps he had been insensitive, considering the other financial transactions she quite likely conducted with gentlemen.

"I'm sorry, Beth. I just want to help. The Colonel told me those who can, should. I can and I want to. At least, help me find a way of helping your parents and Gertie."]

Her expression softened.

"I will. But with a little more subtlety than throwing a bagful of sovereigns in the front door."

He laughed and said, "I have been away too long. In America, a bagful of sovereigns would be quite acceptable."

"I’m sure they’d be welcome most places in England, also, but please, allow my parents their dignity."

"Of course. But how?"

"Suggest an investment. They like their neighbours and have lived in that house since they were married. Provide the funds to improve the property and extend the shop." Her eyes darted as she developd the theme and he smiled at her growing enthusiasm. "Buy the stable next door." She suddenly looked up at him. "If your plans stretch that far?" He nodded and she continued. "And instead of a front-room shop, mam can have a proper store."

"And your father?"

"A horse and cart. He can make deliveries in good weather and send a lad out in the bad."

Robert laughed again, her enthusiasm was catching and he was envisaging the improvements in his mind.

"And Gertie?"

"Gertie as well?"

"Of course, Gertie as well."

Beth chewed her lip and her eyes gazed intently at the sky over his shoulder. He noticed how large and brown they were.

"A drapery. She’d love her own drapery and, as an investment, it wouldn’t fail. Our Gertie has a good business head and she’s a hard worker."

"Then it’s settled. We’ll expand and build a business empire for the family Pallister."

Her eyes widened in surprise again, and again she looked her age, a young girl without guile, shocked at what she had suggested and the swiftness with which he had agreed.

"Truly?" she said.

"Truly. I’ll see Mr Baines tomorrow and arrange the finances. When shall we return to Helston and tell them?"

"I have performances all week ..."

"They’re in the evening. We’ll go by the railway on Tuesday and you’ll be back in plenty of time to become Jenny." He reached across the table and took her hand and he smiled when she blushed because they were in a public place and onlookers might misinterpret the gesture. "This morning you asked if I had a plan and I hadn't. Well, now I have the start of one."

Tomorrow he would visit the dusty offices of Hypolite Baines where he had clerked as a youth and dreamed of escape and travel and adventure. He would return as a man of substance, with drafts and bills of financial exchange to be deposited and plans of business to be discussed.

The Pallister family empire was only the start. He would buy his own mills in the valley and become, in the manner of the Colonel and the philosophies of Richard Oastler, a model employer.

He wondered how that would sit with Harry?

**

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