Purling Road - the Complete Second Season: Episodes 1-10 (3 page)

She breathed a sigh of relief after talking herself down and then asked for more mashed potatoes.

***

Aryl glanced up from the ledger he was holding. “Ruth really did do her best to spread the word, didn’t she?”

Jonathan was leaning precariously, struggling to reach the top of the wheelhouse window with a wad of newspaper.

“She did. We are booked up every Tuesday and Saturday for the next six weeks.” He smiled as he worked.

“And you’ve run the numbers? It’ll bring more than fishing?”

“Yes. About three times as much.”

Aryl nearly swooned. “I might be able to afford a vehicle.” Jonathan held his open hand behind him and Aryl passed a bottle of vinegar cleanser. “What are you going to do with the extra?”

“Squirrel it away and wait for a good opportunity,” he said as he resumed scrubbing.

To Aryl, a good opportunity was not having to walk to work or walk everywhere in the winter.

They’d taken a few hours after work the day before to clean the boat though they’d been doing small repairs and cosmetic touch-ups ever since Jonathan had received the first letter requesting a reservation. The deck had been cleared of lobster pots and buoys, scrubbed clean, and two tables with chairs placed in the center. Today’s guided fishing trip had four guests, all friends of Ruth.

Caleb’s farm truck pulled up in the marina’s small dirt lot and Arianna honked. Maura was in the passenger seat with a large basket on her lap.

Arianna bounded out, forgetting to put on the brake, and before she closed the door, it started rolling. Maura yelled as she jumped back in and stomped on the brake.

“We damn near ended up in the drink! And not the kind of drink I like to be in!” Maura’s voice echoed across the marina.

“Sorry we’re late,” Arianna called as she approached the side of the boat with an armload of supplies.

Aryl glanced up at the sun. “Plenty of time.”

She sent Jonathan to the truck for some larger things she’d brought that she might find useful, and he hauled them on deck.

Aryl and Jonathan knew well enough to just get out of her way. She wasted no time setting up a small table next to the door of the wheelhouse with a silver tea service on a blue linen tablecloth.

Jonathan liked the touch but wondered if he could keep everything from spilling off the table if seas were choppy. She moved to the tables on the deck next. Matching blue tablecloths covered the marred wood, and she placed a short arrangement of blue and white flowers in the center of each. The vases had been painted gold. Simple. Masculine. She took a moment to move flowers about, just microns to the left or right until she was happy. She wanted to do more…so much more, but the atmosphere had to reflect the occasion and these were men who’d paid money to be taken to the best fishing spots in the Atlantic. They’d want a hint of luxury, but what they were paying for was the overall fishing experience. This was the hardest part for Arianna. Deciding when to stop.

She stood back and dropped a hand on her hip, her eyes trailing over her decorations. “Well, it’s rather like putting lipstick on a pig…but she’s a pretty pig now.”

Aryl hesitated pointing out that the pig she was referring to was the ‘Ahna-Joy.’ He snickered to himself instead.

Maura bustled forward with her basket. She placed it on the table as Arianna kept a hawk’s eye on her arrangements.

“I have somethin’ ye might like, Mr. Jonathan. It was Ian’s idea and Ian’s doing, actually. He made these lunch boxes fer ye.” From the basket, she pulled a wooden box, beautifully made, and stained a dark oak. Opening the hinged lid, they could see a hearty ham sandwich bursting with lettuce and tomato, an apple, two cookies, and a tart.

“There are six.” She winked. Before they could thank her, she walked to the wheelhouse. “I thought ye could stack them up here, underneath the tea service until it’s time to eat.”

“Maura, this is positively brilliant. Thank Ian for us. Actually, I’ll thank him myself next time I see him.”

“Just don’t let them take the boxes with them when they go. Return them to me, and I’ll repack them for the next outing.”

“This really is a nice touch. Better than pulling sandwiches from a basket and tossing them around.” He put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. She grinned.

“I think you’ll do well with the new venture, Mr. Jonathan.” She looked up at him, squinting against the sun. “I’m proud of ye for finding an opportunity.”

“Well, it was Aryl’s father-in-law’s idea,” he said.

Aryl looked as if he’d rather choke than give credit. He flashed a tight smile and stayed silent.

“Having an idea is one thing. Turning it into something is what matters. Speaking of which, it looks like yer first customer is here, so we’d best get out of the way.”

Jonathan saw them both off the boat and walked to greet the sleek black car pulling into the lot. Two men exited, looking around excitedly. They were dressed identically in light green wool slacks, black boots, and puffy knit fisherman’s sweaters.

Jonathan snickered to himself. Try as they were to look the part, he knew they would absolutely boil under the sun in those clothes. Jonathan, knowing the season, dressed in layers, and he’d already peeled off his sweater, leaving him in a thinner button down and a white undershirt.

“Well, you did choose a good day for an outing, Edmond. Bravo.”

“I was rather hoping for a stormy day, Reginald.” Noting his friend’s grimace, he asked, “What? Not up for a little adventure on the high seas?” He then slashed his fist across his chest.

It took everything Jonathan had not to roll his eyes. If these men only knew the real danger they faced trying to support their families, they might not treat it like an amusement ride. He hoped they wouldn’t make any ignorant comments in front of Aryl.

They caught sight of him and their faces lit up.

“Ah, you must be Captain Jonathan,” Edmond called as they approached.

“I am. Nice to meet you.” They declined to shake hands, more concerned with their gear.

“Our things are in the backseat. Poles, tackle, and the like.” Edmond gestured weakly to the car.

Oh. That meant Jonathan was supposed to fetch them.

“That wasn’t stated in the brochure,” he grumbled under his breath as he went.

Edmond Blake and Reginald Peters. He knew nothing of these men outside their names from the reservation they made. And, of course, that they were acquaintances of Ruth. As he leaned into the back seat of the immaculately clean car, he wondered what these men did when not
seeking adventure on the high seas.
He supposed it would come out in conversation. Wealthy men liked to brag about their accomplishments.

He was surprised they had waited for him at the edge of the lot. Then he realized they were waiting to be accompanied to the boat. He wondered if they’d also want him to hold their hands as they boarded. Again, he resisted the urge to scoff aloud and, instead, put on a pleasant smile as he approached.

“If you gentlemen will follow me,” he said, leading the way, his arms full of tackle and gear. As soon as he took the lead, he dropped the smile. Dealing with aristocratic snobbery was a business hardship he hadn’t anticipated.

Another car pulled in next to the first. A driver exited and opened the back door. Out stepped a young man, followed by another. They were dressed more appropriately, in thin dark pants, button-up plaid shirts, and flat caps. Jonathan handed the first guests over to Aryl and hurried to meet the new ones. By the time he got to them, the car was pulling away, leaving them holding wooden tackle boxes and poles. Jonathan threw up a hand in welcome.

“Oh, good. We’re in the right place,” one young man said.

“If you’re here for the guided fishing tour, you are. I’m Jonathan.”

“I’m Isaac. This is my brother, Frank.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jonathan held his hand out for their gear and they flustered, setting it down quickly to each shake his hand.

It dawned on Jonathan what these two were. Without a doubt, new money. He saw in them what he’d experienced many years ago after sudden success. An unsure awkwardness. Wanting but not knowing if you were acting socially appropriate. Trying to look the part, even though you didn’t feel a part of it yet.

“Would you like me to take your gear?”

“Oh, no. We can carry it.”

Jonathan smiled and held out an arm. “This way, gentlemen.” He started to lead the way and Isaac and Frank walked alongside him. At least half the guests today wouldn’t drive him batty.

He introduced the young men to Aryl, who took over explaining about the boat, where they would be going, and seeing the need for a thrill in the eyes of Edmond, threw out some instructions of what to do if the boat were to encounter rough seas or began to take on water. That seemed to excite all the men. Jonathan went into the wheelhouse, thankful his job was mainly to take them out and bring them in safely. Aryl was the one who was more suited to deal with people directly. He poured a mug of coffee from his thermos and referenced his chart. He and Aryl had narrowed it down to two areas to take the men today but had yet to actually choose one.

He debated this while sipping his coffee and staring out at the water. After pulling himself from a daydream, he went out to consult with Aryl on a location.

He was busy seeing to the guests, and Jonathan waited by the railing. He listened to Edmond talk and listened even closer to Reginald. Not to their words, but the way they spoke. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.

After the men were settled at separate tables, Aryl went to him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m trying to place their accent.”

Aryl looked back at the men.

“It’s not French… It’s not quite English…” Jonathan tapped the rail.

Aryl laughed. “You honestly don’t know?”

“No. Do you?”

“Yes. And I can’t believe you don’t recognize it.”

“Well, what is it then?” Jonathan asked.

“Listen closely.”

Jonathan inclined his head as the man went on for a few moments to his friend. He looked at Aryl, still confused.

“It’s the accent of money,” Aryl said, slapping Jonathan’s chest with the back of his hand.

Jonathan’s eyes widened. “Did we sound like that?”

“God, I hope not.” After a short laugh, he went to see that the guests were comfortable before they got underway.

***

Arianna floated down the stairs in a black tiered dress, low cut with no sleeves. She wore pearls around her neck and a red lace headband. The edges of her hair curled up and out like wings. Her makeup was dramatic. So dramatic that Savrene and Samuel, just sitting down to dinner, jumped when they saw her. Caleb did a double take. They hadn’t said much to each other in the last few days. After Arianna had dropped the bombshell that she’d thought of leaving if a solution wasn’t found for Ethel, Caleb had been cold and distant. He wanted to ask her if she had been serious but was afraid of the answer. After all, she’d taken off on him before in a moment of crisis.

Arianna had also been cold and distant. With all she’d told him about the hardships of dealing with Ethel, it took David to get him to reluctantly agree to move Ethel out of the house.

“I thought you girls were just going down to the beach or something,” he said. He turned from the stove, wiping his hands. Felicity began to fuss, and Caleb ducked into the living room to scoop her up before she could wake Ethel, who’d nodded off on the sofa.

“I’m not sure exactly where we’re going,” Arianna said carefully as she plucked at a string on her small handbag. It was true. She knew the general whereabouts of the house turned illegal nightclub but didn’t know the exact address.

Bouncing Felicity on his shoulder, he eyed Arianna again. “I just didn’t expect you to go out looking so…” He tossed his hand up and down in her direction. “I mean, you’re just hanging out with the girls. Why the getup?”

Arianna narrowed her eyes. “Just hanging out with the girls? So, I should step out looking like a hag?” she asked.

“What a hag, Daddy?” Savrene asked, looking up from her dinner. Caleb looked at her and then back to Arianna.

“No, I don’t expect you to look like a hag. But dressed like that…”

“Dressed like what?” She glared at him, tapping her foot.
Like the old days…the rich years…when I felt alive and happy and excited for life?
Her eyes begged the question.

“People might get the wrong idea.”
Men. Men might get the wrong idea
is what he wanted to say.

“I’m not sure how you’ve forgotten, Caleb. I don’t give a damn what people think.” She turned on her heel and walked out the door without looking back.

***

Arianna waited in the living room for Ava to come downstairs. Jonathan approached her gently, as one would approach a wild animal. She had that look tonight.

“How’s Caleb?” he asked. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t been over to see him.”