Chapter Ten #4
‘Green ink for the Green Funnel Line! Here’s the thing, sir.
Just look at this mass of papers on my desk.
Every desk in the world gets covered over with papers, all printed in black ink.
Ours would stand out. Like a rose in a vegetable bed.
You’d catch a glimpse of green out of the corner of your eye and think, “Oh, yes, Green Funnel.” It would get the name known faster than anything. ’
Cowling laughed. ‘By God, you’re a smart one! It was a good day’s work when I gave you a job. Very well, Green Funnel it is, badge and green ink and all. You’ll do the necessary.’
‘I will, sir.’
‘I’m leaving things in your hands, because I’m going back to Leicestershire tomorrow. My wife is very near her time, and the doctor says first babies often come early, so I want to be on hand.’
‘I understand sir. I hope all goes well.’
‘So do I,’ Cowling said, suddenly serious. ‘I think the worry’s worse when there’s nothing you can do yourself to help. You’ll find out one day, when you get married. Now, what’s this meeting you’ve called me in for? Sir James Farocean? What does he want?’
‘I’m not sure, sir. His secretary wouldn’t say. But from gossip I’ve heard around the docks, I think he’s worried about competition from the new company.’
‘Well, he should be. I’ll give ’em all competition!’
‘I suspect there may be a proposal not to compete directly on certain routes. There have been informal agreements between shipping lines before.’
‘That’s not the way I do business, as you ought to know by now. All’s fair in war and commerce. If you can’t beat me fair and square, get out of my way!’
‘It’s supposed to be beneficial to both sides,’ Angus mentioned.
‘Beneficial to the weak side,’ Cowling said.
A knock on the door heralded the clerk, who announced that Sir James Farocean and Mr Farocean had arrived. ‘Which Mr Farocean is that?’ Angus asked sharply.
‘Mr Jervis, sir.’
‘That’s the eldest son, isn’t it? So, he’s brought reinforcements, has he? We’ll split ’em up!’ Cowling said gleefully. ‘I’ll talk to the father in here. You can talk to the son downstairs. Give him coffee. Show him the model ships. Boys like them.’
It was just about the last thing Angus would have wanted to do, to talk politely to Jervis Farocean – quite apart from the awkwardness of not allowing him upstairs with his father. But he had a job to do. During office hours and on these premises, his sole duty was to his employer.
Jervis had been put out when his father was shown up alone. He gave Angus a belligerent frown and said, ‘What’s going on?’
Angus conducted him into the small downstairs office, where scale models of ships of the Mayer & Frank line were displayed in glass cases on a shelf along one wall. Neither young man gave them a glance. ‘Mr Cowling wants to talk to Sir James alone,’ Angus said.
‘The devil he does!’
‘It is their prerogative,’ Angus suggested.
‘And what are we supposed to do? Twiddle our thumbs?’
‘I’ve been asked to keep you company.’
‘Have you, indeed!’ Angus had thought at first he was only feigning not to know who he was, but now saw he really did not. And Jervis Farocean, son of the owner of the business, thought himself too far above a mere factotum to enquire. Angus forbore to offer coffee.
‘Your employer’s a bit rum, isn’t he?’ Jervis went on scornfully. ‘Not quite out of the top drawer.’
‘I know nothing about drawers,’ Angus said, and heard his accent grow stronger as his temper frayed.
‘No, I suppose you don’t.’
‘Mr Cowling is a very successful businessman,’ Angus said. ‘That’s what matters to me.’
‘You say so. But I wonder,’ said Jervis, putting his hands into his pockets to demonstrate his indifference to his surroundings, and looking at Angus under lowered lids. ‘I saw you at that garden party in Hampstead, didn’t I? How did you get yourself invited?’
Angus didn’t answer that. ‘And you were squiring Lady Rachel Tallant,’ he said instead. ‘As so often this Season.’
‘Been keeping an eye on me, have you?’ Jervis said, with a superior smile.
‘Well, you were studying the right model, I’ll give you that.
And if you want to get on in society you ought to choose your company better.
Working for an outsider like Cowling?’ He shook his head, tutting.
‘I saw you look at Lady Rachel at that garden affair. If you’ve ambitions in that direction, you should remember the old adage – a man is known by the company he keeps. ’
Angus stared at Jervis, anger fighting with contempt. ‘You really are a complete bounder, aren’t you?’
Jervis flushed. ‘Who are you calling names, you inky-fingered clerk? You’ve got a damn cheek! I’m not staying here to be insulted by the likes of you. I’m going outside for a smoke until my father comes down. I don’t like the smell in here.’ He curled his lip at Angus and stalked out.
Angus had to let him go. However much he longed to knock him down, he must not.
Or, at least, not here. What did Rachel see in him?
Looks, he granted, but that oily charm was so insincere!
He hoped that she was only trying to make him jealous, and was not actually losing her heart to Jervis Farocean.
It was very plain to him that Jervis was only toying with her, but she, innocent that she was, might not see through him.
He ground his teeth. Only a few more weeks, and he could ask her to marry him without needing anyone’s permission.
But would she have him? He had only his salary – a generous one, but he had no establishment to offer her, and she was used to living in luxury.
If she loved him, she would give it up. If she loved him enough.
But he didn’t want her to have to give up anything! And meanwhile she was going to every ball and soirée, at the mercy of cynical cads like Farocean. Oh, God, it was an awful situation! He had to stop himself going outside and kicking the bounder straight into the Thames, just for a little relief.