Tom nodded, disturbed, but gave his aunt a quick hug. “I’ve got to run, Aunt Marge. Thanks for telling me about this. Be well, and tell my mother hello for me.”
She kissed his cheek. “I will. Be well, Tommy.”
Chapter 14
December 1906
The people of Belfast were justifiably proud of the Palm House. Casey loved it even in the twenty-first century, but as she stood outside it in 1906, she realized it was really remarkable. Curvilinear and cast iron glass, it stood proudly in the gardens, owner of a world-wide reputation. It was already old, having been built in the 1830’s, with a wing for cool temperature plants and another for tropical plants. That was the area she would be working in, as her new boss, Rupus Mangold, had explained. She had worked here for a year as a student in 2005 and for a moment, as she walked to the door on her first day in 1906, she felt as if time had again folded on itself. Perhaps she couldn’t really get back home, but this would bring her closer.
Mr. Mangold had immediately realized that Casey knew what she was doing, and he fell into a regular routine with her assignments. He would tell her what he wanted done and then disappear for days at a time, leaving her to it. She never figured out what he did with his time but didn’t really care, either. She worked three days a week, planning, sketching, and researching, without benefit of a computer or the internet, where to find and order plants. She also placed those orders, watched the budget, and did her share of digging and planting.
She tried to avoid conversations with the students working there. They were all boys her own age and none of them was happy about working with a girl. They were polite enough if they had to speak to her, but it was like trying to join the fifth grade clubhouse with the “no girls allowed” sign on the door. The only reason they didn’t dip her braid in the inkwell was because her hair wasn’t long enough to have a braid. Boys—like little children, she sniffed to herself, knowing full well she was comparing them to Tom Andrews.
She missed him. Since leaving the shipyard, she found herself always listening for his laugh or watching for his large form to come through a crowd. She hoped he would call when work started on the Titanic. If he didn’t, she decided she would contact him, as soon as she heard the ship was being built. She had no doubt she would know about it. The whole town knew what ships were being built at the yard.
Moving the pot with the Bird of Paradise next to the ferns, Casey knelt down to widen the space she had picked for it.
“Miss Wilson?” A respectful male voice belonging to the afternoon’s student assistant broke into her thoughts and caused her eyebrows to raise. Why was he being so nice? She continued her digging without looking up. “Yes, Teddy?”
“You have a visitor.”
She blinked in surprise and turned, then hastily stood, wiping her hands on the towel hanging from her apron. A woman stood next to Teddy, straight and corset-tight in a purple dress and flowered hat. Her hair under the hat was salt and pepper, her skin was pale and wrinkled, but she had blue eyes that seemed to actually twinkle, and a delighted smile moved her lips as she observed Casey.
Casey reached a hand out, then winced at the dirt still on it and drew it back. She changed the greeting into a curtsey instead, distracted by Teddy, who was rubbing his cheek, then pointing at her. “Hello! May I help you?” She rubbed her cheek with her towel, hoping she wasn’t just depositing more dirt.
The smile widened and the woman returned the curtsey with a tilt of her head. “You may, dear. I’m Mrs. Herceforth. Lady Pirrie told me about you and suggested you’d be an excellent addition to our Horticultural Society Chapter. She offered to introduce us, but as she won’t return from London for three weeks, I took it upon myself to call.”
The lady turned and charmingly dismissed Teddy, who bowed with gallant ease, and strolled back to his duties. Mrs. Herceforth beamed after him and turned back to Casey. “Such a handsome fellow, he is.” She leaned conspiratorially toward Casey. “If you play your cards right, dear, this job could do quite well for you.”
Casey managed to look doubtful rather than disgusted, but her lips twitched a bit. “If I play my cards right, Mrs. Herceforth, I shall escape unscathed.”
The lady had a pealing laugh and she patted Casey’s arm. “Well said, dear! Now, may I bother you for a short tour? I give quite generously to the Gardens and I’m curious to see what my money is doing.” She glanced toward the spot where Casey had been working. “If you’ve the time to spare for it, of course. I thought it would be a good chance to get acquainted.”
“I’d love to show you around, ma’am. Just let me…” Casey held up a finger and turned to move the potted Bird to a safer locale. She placed her spade in the pot and turned back. “I’d hate for someone to trip over it,” she explained and Mrs. Herceforth nodded approvingly. Casey spread an arm to indicate the room around them.
“Are you familiar with the work to build up the tropical section? You can see we’ve several varieties of ferns in place…” Mrs. Herceforth proved to be a knowledgeable and entertaining audience, and Casey found herself laughing a lot and losing herself in her enthusiasm for the project. She kept seeing the Palm House as it would be in the twenty-first century and often included that description as something to work toward in the future. Mrs. Herceforth seemed quite taken with her ideas, which made Casey a little uncomfortable. After all, they weren’t really her ideas.
As they neared the end of the tour, Mrs. Herceforth began talking about both the Belfast Horticultural Society and the Agriculture Society. “I belong to both of them, dear, and I think you would enjoy attending a meeting of each.” The look she gave Casey was appraising. “Their missions are different, but harmonious. The horticultural society is beginning a project to plant gardens throughout the city. The Ag Society works to help farmers form cooperatives so they are working together to supply good products to the markets, for a decent wage. I’m sure you’re aware of the mass exodus of the Irish, mostly to America.”
Casey nodded. The problem had been covered in her classes at Queen’s. They reached a meeting room and Mrs. Herceforth took the opportunity to rest her feet. Casey joined her at the table, while the older woman continued.
“We want to keep them here, you know. But they need to feed their families. Now dear,” she touched Casey’s hand, a smile playing at her lips, “Lady Pirrie told me about your situation, so I know you understand what life is like for the poor. I loved your “solution,” by the way. Serves those men right, as far as I’m concerned.” They both laughed, Casey blushing a little in embarrassment.
“The Belfast Ag Society is working to assist the area farmers to grow and sell their food right here. We want more market days and more grocers buying from the farmers, instead of food shipped from the Continent. Goodness, some of the food they stock comes from America! It’s putting our farmers right out of business and off of their lands. We want to encourage the populace to grow their own vegetable gardens or establish community gardens. This is where the two societies can work together, don’t you agree?”