My Journey to America

My trip to America

by

Kenneth Allan

Chapter 1

“Your mother has come to collect you, Heston,” said the headmaster. That was a surprise, I thought. I only ever saw my mother three times a year, birthdays, holidays and Christmas. When I was six, she explained it to me as I was packed onto the train to boarding school.

“I’m quite fond of you, Charles, but your presence is quite inconvenient. I’m having to spend money on Nannies and nurses and I’m tired of explaining you to my men friends when they stay over.”

This explanation didn’t seem to bother me much as my mother was never in my life anyway, but I also knew, in her own strange way, that she loved me and that was enough.

I had no problems at boarding school as I was big and strong enough to handle bullies and any master that wanted to use me for some out of hour’s recreation was told that I would blast his name all over the local newspaper.

“Matron has packed your bags and your mother is waiting in the limousine,” said the headmaster.

I stood on the steps of the school and looked at my mother. She was, as always, the picture of elegance, a genuine lady of blue blood. I opened the door and got inside.

“Charles, “ she announced, “how perfectly lovely to see you.”

“What’s up, mother?” I asked.

“Uncle Bertie has turned up on my doorstep.”

Ah, Uncle Bertie, that explained everything. Uncle Bertie is my mother’s brother. When my grandfather died, he divided his wealth between Uncle Bertie and mother, but he was under no illusion about mother’s attitude to money. He put her share into a trust in perpetuity or until Uncle Bertie died. Mother was paid a handsome allowance from the trust, which she spent with ease.

Uncle Bertie was immune to all the pleadings from mother about more money, but I was his favorite, his only nephew, and I could twist him around my little finger so whenever mother needed money she rolled me out in front of him.

“Broke are you, mother?” I asked.

“I’m not, as a matter of fact. Uncle Bertie wants to speak to you and what Uncle Bertie wants Uncle Bertie gets.”

I was disappointed. I always got a bonus when I screwed money out of Uncle Bertie for mum.

Uncle Bertie was waiting for us in the garden, and he arose when we arrived. The only way to describe Uncle Bertie was that he was like a snowman, except he wasn’t white. His body comprised two blobs. A large one for his body and a smaller one for his head. He had two stick-like legs and arms. His eyes were little spots of black and a red nose like a carrot. According to several doctors, he would soon die of many diseases associated with obesity, but he was still going strong. There was no chance he was going to depart soon, much to my mother’s disappointment.

“Charles, my boy. You get bigger each time I see you. Come, give me a hug.”

Hugging Uncle Bertie was performed more in theory than practice. My arms were nowhere near big enough for his chest.

“Hi Uncle Bertie. What are you doing here?”

“I have come, my boy, to launch you into your new career.

“but uncle,“ I said, “I’ve still got two years of school left then I’m going to university.”

“Poo, fiddlesticks. By fourteen I was out in the world making my fortune.” Uncle Bertie said.

“Rubbish,” replied mother, “at fourteen daddy kicked you out when he caught you with the scullery maid.”

“And that was the making of me. I have only ever looked up since then.”

“Double rubbish,” laughed mother, “you returned begging father to forgive you. You hadn’t eaten in two days and you were sleeping in the boathouse.”

Uncle Bertie’s demeanor changed as he said, “I’d like to talk to you about last month’s accounts.”

Mother shut up.

“Charles, I am about to embark on a long sea voyage to the Americas. The eastern states to be exact, then I catch a train to West Coast. I will mix with the elite and the rich. I need a fit young man as my companion. One that is intelligent and cultured. One that I can introduce into the society and will look after my back.”

Before I could answer mother said, "I’m afraid that will not be possible without my permission however... “

“Here we go,” said Uncle Bertie.

“If I was there to supervise him, I might allow it.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged, my dear.”

Later that night I asked mother why she wanted to come along. I was sure she didn’t care what I did.

“I have no intention of letting Bertie loose amongst those New York women. One might decide to marry him then where would we be.”

Chapter 2

The three of us stood on the dock, staring at the ship in front of us.

“Are you sure this is the right ship, Bertie,” asked my mother.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “I’ve had to be careful with my money. It would be all right for the boy and I but you insisted on coming along.”

Mother stormed up the gangplank and insisted on being taken to her cabin. She was rewarded with a blank stare. After another bout of shouting, an officer turned up.

“Excuse me, madam, but you 're making a lot of noise,” a very handsome young man in a uniform said.

Mother turned to him.

“You appear to be, sir, a gentleman,” said mother smiling at him with her eyes.

“Alas, I’m not ma’am. I am a convicted thief and have fathered four bastard children but, anyway, how can I help you.”

“Could you show us to our cabin please, then perhaps you could give me a tour of the ship?”

I did not see mother again until just before bedtime when she turned up, in her nightclothes, pale as a ghost.

“What’s up, mother?” I asked.

“Let me in and get me a drink. Bertie must have some rum somewhere.”

I got her a decent shot of rum, which she disposed of.

“I’ve just been to the toilet. Have you been yet, of course not. There’s eight seats, four on each side, side by side. There no dividing walls or anything for privacy. I was desperate, but I had no choice and the room was empty, so I sat down. I was right in the middle of it when two men came in. They took no notice of me and pulled there pants down and sat. One right next to me. Then they started talking about their next shore leave when they reach New York amongst all the vulgar noises going on. Then they finished, and without cleaning themselves, got up and left. I got out just as another man came in. Charles, I’m not going to the toilet again unless you come with me and guard the door.”

We weren’t the only passengers on the ship. There was one solitary man, a very dark, broody person, and a young married couple. Everyone stayed in their cabins, coming up on deck for fresh air. I, however, explored the ship. The crew was a rough lot, but peaceful. To my surprise, I found there were other women on board. There was the cook and her daughter, a girl disguised as a cabin boy and the captain’s wife, I think.

The cook was my favourite. She was a round, cheery person with rosy cheeks and a deep, honest laugh. She had been a ship’s cook since she was a girl and, no, she has never been married. Her daughter was the exact opposite. Like her father, said the cook, the miserable bastard. She was thin, serious and pale. She refused to talk to me and scurried in to the back of the kitchen. Wot she needs is a good rogering, said her mother, looking meaningfully at me. I scurried back to the cabin.

I never realised the cabin boy was a girl till I watched the crew jump in the net. When the conditions are right, they put down a net behind the ship and anyone can jump in to get an overdue bath. I was rather stunned to see this naked woman jump in with the rest of the crew.

“Who is that,” I asked, pointing at the naked woman.

“That’s the cabin-boy, but don’t touch her. The last one that tried lost his testicles.”

I assured him I wouldn’t try, but I made friends with her. She had one condition for her friendship and that I treat her as a boy. I can tell you it wasn’t easy. The greatest test came on the day we jumped into the net together. That body, those breasts, were a torment to me, but I kept my hands to myself. It paid off not now but years later.

The captain’s wife, or who I thought was his wife, was off limits to everyone. A part of the ship was roped off and she could often be seen there, sitting on a deck chair reading a book. There was no doubt what would happen if someone went near her without the captain’s permission. The crew would often tell terrible stories of those who disobeyed. She looked exquisite, and I wondered how I could talk to her without getting strung up from the yard arm.

I was left to myself on the ship. Uncle Bertie spent all of his time in the cabin pouring over reams of pages regarding his project, and mother spent all her time with the handsome first mate. In fact, I caught her coming out of his cabin a few times during the voyage. I would spend many hours down in the crew’s mess, chatting with the crew. They were a rough lot, but cheery and hospitable. I had a few tots of rum and they taught me the delights of a tobacco pipe.

There were many stories of shore leave and shady women. These pleasant times sometimes lasted till midnight. Then I would wander about the decks of the ship, smoking my pipe. On one such night, I was standing near the roped off area when I heard a ‘Psst’. I jumped and turned around to stare into the eyes of the captain’s wife.

“How old are you?” she whispered.

Puzzled, I said," Fifteen."

“Oh thank god, you 're just a boy, father won’t be as upset.” she said.

Ignoring the implied insult I said, “ but aren’t you the Captain’s Wife.”

“Oh heavens no. I am his daughter, step-daughter.” she answered.

“Well, how old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“And why wouldn’t your father be upset.”

“He thinks every man on this ship wants to bed me but you 're only a boy.”

I took a deep suck on my pipe, trying to decide if I should ignore the insult, but before I could she lifted the rope and said, “Come on, talk with me.”

With a dreadfull fealing, I crawled under the rope and we sat down together, out of sight.

“Whats your name,” I asked.

“Cynthia and yours?”

“Charles. Why are you living this life?” I asked.

“My mother died when I was fifteen and still at school. It was a school in France and when I turned seventeen, I had nowhere to go. I have no relatives other than my step-father, so he took me along with him. I love my step-father but this life is driving me mad.”

Thereafter we met at night and the friendship deepened till on a moonless night, when only the stars lit the sky, we kissed. Standing right behind us was her step-father.

It took a large bundle of money and an impassioned plea from my mother to stop the Captain from putting me on a lifeboat and setting me adrift, but it freed Cynthia. Her step-fathers condition was that I would accompany her wherever she went on the ship and I would be responsible for her safety. I agreed.

Chapter 3

It was a heartbreaking time when we reached New York. Cynthia said that they were moving on from New York almost immediately and sailing down the coast to Mexico. Mother told me not to be so upset, as this was the best breakup possible. No one gets blamed and everyone feels good. She showed this by kissing her handsome first mate and strolled down the gangplank without a backward look.

We entered the noisy, bustling port of New York, and Uncle Bertie hauled a cab. He took us to a very luxurious hotel near a place called Times Square. Uncle Bertie hit the road running. He hired a function room and a small army of messenger boys to hand deliver his personnel invitations to one hundred rich Italian families and about twenty not so Italian ones. He then enlisted mother’s help to organise the function.

At first, mother refused, but he offered to double her allowance if she helped. Mother jumped in with both feet and proved more than capable. She organised the hotel staff, created the menu and instructed the kitchen staff, designed the table layout, and selected the wine. All but a few people declined the invitation. After all, it was free food and wine plus the chance to mix with the richest of families. Mother added a brilliant touch by greeting each guest in fluent Italian whether or not they could speak it.

Food and wine were served, and when everyone was comfortable, fed, and relaxed, Uncle Bertie began his pitch. Regardless of his dubious appearance, he was a brilliant speaker. His consortium had purchased a large parcel of land somewhere on the southern Italian coast. The idea was to build forty high class, luxurious Villas, grouped around the bay and sell these to investors overseas. The consortium, for a juicy fee, would manage the villas, rent them out to locals or other Europeans at a tidy profit or people could purchase shares in the investment.

At the end of the evening the three of us sat round a table drinking the wine and eating the left over food.

“How much did you make Bertie?” asked mother. “

“Twelve thousand dollars in cheques and fifty expressions of interest.”

“How much do you need to make?” She enquired.

“Target is two hundred thousand, but I need a minimum of one hundred thousand to start the next phase of the project.”

I could almost see pound signs appear in mother’s eyes.

Chapter 4

The next day Uncle Bertie payed the bill, and we headed out to the next city on the list, but there was a slight hiccup when we arrived. There was no function room at the hotel for Uncle Bernie to conduct his talk, and it took some time to find a suitable venue. During this time, mother vanished.

“Don’t worry about your mother, boy,” said Uncle Bertie. "She does that. She eventually turns up, usually at a rather inconvenient time."

It was strange, I thought, that I could go for months and not think about seeing her but when she is around, I worry as soon as she’s gone for a couple of days and after a week I was frantic.

“All right boy, all right, “ said Uncle Bertie irritated by the difficulty in finding a venue, “try the police stations.”

“Police stations!” I exclaimed, “why not the hospital’s. “

“Because it’s my sister we’re concerned about. Trust me, police stations are the best bet.”

I visited each precinct, one by one, till I came to a dilapidated one in an dilapidated suburb. Behind the desk was a fat desk sergeant. He took one look at me and said in a broad Irish brogue.

“Wot can I be doing for you, sonny?”

“I’m looking for my mother who has gone missing,” I said.

He looked at me and said, “ Would she have brown hair, about five foot five, around forty and sound just like you.”

“Yes, yes that sounds like her.”

Heaving himself up off the desk he said, “ We have a woman that has been arrested for soliciting money for sex.”

“Impossible,” I exclaimed. “My mother would never do such a thing. “

The fat sergeant shrugged his shoulders as he led me to the cells.

“She was arrested, drunk and naked in a brothel. A man was in the room with her.”

He swung the cell door open and there was mother. She was dressed in a semitransparent fur lined night gown, naked underneath. Her hair was an absolute mess, her cheeks all tear stained, and her lipstick smeared all around her mouth.

“Charlie, Charlie,” she cried, “ I want to go home to London. I want out of this horrible country. “

“You must let her go, sergeant,” I pleaded.

Shoving mother back in the cell, he slammed shut the cell door.

“Bail is set at fifty dollars. The only way she is going anywhere is if you cough up the bail.”

I rushed to get Uncle Bertie, and we raced back to the police station.

“All right, Mavis. What happened?” he asked.

“Oh Bertie, I didn’t think I was so naïve. I met a charming gentle man who invited me to a party. Once there, I drank too much and blacked out, then I woke up, naked with a man about to do horrible things to me. Before he had a chance, the police raided the place and dragged me away. I just had time to grab this night gown.”

“Charlie has brought you some clothes and things to fix yourself up. I will fix the sergeant.”

Once at the desk he said to the sergeant, “ Sergeant, this has all been a great mistake. My sister would never sell herself for sex... “

“She enjoys giving it away for free,” I said, thinking I was being helpful. A swift kick from uncle told me different.

“Here is my sister’s passport. You can see she is Lady Mavis Hester and quite wealthy in her own right. The thought of selling herself for sex is therefore quite ridiculous as she has no need of the money.”

“Mister, she could be Lady Doris of the Bull and Cow for all I know, but I know who would. Daphne, come out here,” he yelled to somebody in the back room.

A little woman came out and said, “what do you want, Flynn.”

“Daphne here is an expert on the English. She dotes over them and the royal family. She would know who this lady is.”

Daphne darted into the back room and came out with a gigantic volume of who’s who of the British aristocracy.

Leafing through the book, she said, “Ah yes. Lady Mavis Hester, one hundred and eighty-nine in line for the throne and also quite wealthy. See they’ve even got a photo of her.”

They had indeed, and it was a very good one.

“Well, never let it be said I mistreat British royalty, even though I’m Irish. Constable Smith, release the woman.”

We took mother back to the hotel, gave her a very large brandy and put her to bed. She never strayed from our side again.

Uncle got a venue and mother recovered enough to do an excellent job of running it. Uncle picked up forty thousand in cash and another fifty expressions of interest.

We again travelled to the next city and uncle prepared for another seminar but ran into a problem with an official from the city council, one of the sheriff’s officers.

“ Ahem, Mr Carter, Bertie Carter? “ he asked.

“How can I help you, dear man,” uncle Bertie replied.

“This is a delightful party you are putting on. Is it a private function?” he asked.

“It is, I am raising funds for an exciting project in Italy,” replied Uncle Bertie.

*Are you now, “said Officer Brown,” and do you have all the correct permits."

This threw Uncle Bertie off balance and he fumbled through his brief case so I stepped in and said, “Uncle Bernie checked with the hotel manager. As the venue is being held on private premises none are required.”

“Quite so, quite so but what about insurance.”

That stumped me.

“What do I need insurance for?” asked uncle.

“Oh in case there’s a fire, somebody has a nasty accident just outside the hotel, the council in there wisdom declared the hotel dangerous, outbreak of cholera. Many strange things like that.”

“And... Umm... How much would this instance cost me.”

“Oh, I think five hundred should do it. Look, why don’t I come back tomorrow so you can think about it. OK?”

Officer Brown strode away, and Uncle Bertie immediately sought the hotel manager.

“Insurance, nonsense the hotel’s insurance covers it all. Who told you this?” the manager asked.

“Someone called Officer Brown.”

“Ah right. Officer brown. He runs a little protection racket. Targets people like you. Most of the council has little bits of side business like that. It’s best to pay because he can screw things up for you.”

Uncle Bertie thanked him, then turned to me. “Now’s your chance to do your bit, my boy. When he comes to be paid, I want you to follow him and report to me everything, and I mean everything, he does. Understand.”

Officer brown returned, collected his money and left. I never lost him. He visited many establishments. Some were brothels, some illegal casinos and other buildings I couldn’t make out. He never stayed long enough to take part in any of the activities. All except one house.

He stayed there till eleven in the evening, then went straight home. One night I crept up to the window. I observed an attractive woman inside and they were counting money on the table, dividing it into two piles. When they were finished, each one took a pile, then they became intimate. I left them as I had an idea. I went to the officer’s home and knocked on the door. I asked the woman there if I could speak to officer brown.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “ but officer brown is on duty at the moment. He will be home at eleven thirty. “

Officer brown was cheating on his wife. Uncle would be delighted.

“Do you know the name of the mistress?” he asked.

“Miss Campbell,” I answered.

He grabbed two invitations and wrote on each.

“Give these to each of the women but make sure Officer Brown doesn’t see you.”

On the day of the seminar, Officer Brown and his wife turned up. They were greeted by mother and conducted to their table. Shortly after Miss Campbell arrived and when she saw which table she was going to sit at, she baulked.

“Is there another table I could sit at, please?”

“In so sorry,” replied mother, “but all seats are booked

She sat Miss Campbell on the other side of an uneasy Officer Brown. I waited till the meal was over, but before Uncle Bertie started his speech, I tapped Officer Brown on the shoulder and told him someone wishes to speak to him in the foyer. Once outside, I guided him into the gent’s washroom.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

“Officer brown,” I said, “ I would like to offer you some insurance by my uncle.”

“What are you up to.?” he snorted.

“He is offering to ensure that the entire hall, and your wife, does not find out about your mistress, Miss Campbell, and that you split your ‘insurance premiums’ with her.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” he replied." I would have him run out of town. “

“Oh, I don’t think it would be him that’s run out of town. I know you have dealings with about a dozen of these men and more I don’t know about. I bet they all would be pleased to see you run out of town, never mind about your wife.”

Officer brown turned pale and asked, “How much?”

“I have been allowed to give you the special price of five thousand dollars.”

“Five thousand!” He exclaimed, “ that’s ten times more than I got from him. “

“I guess it’s ten times more important.”

“Look, I don’t have that sort of money on me. I need time to get it.”

“We will take a cheque now, Officer Brown. After all, a bounced cheque is worse that adultery.”

“OK, OK,” he said, reaching for his cheque book.

When the seminar finished, uncle Bertie totaled it all up.

“Sixty-eight thousand in deposits and one hundred and twenty expressions of interest plus five thousand towards expenses courtesy of Officer Brown.”

We packed up and headed for Washington, the capital.

“It’s not that I am expecting a lot of money here but there are lots of ambassadors that could give me letters of introduction to influential people in there country.”

Uncle Bertie was a global thinker, but it turned out to be a dismal failure. Not only did we make only eight thousand dollars, but he did not receive a single letter of introduction. The ambassadors passed the invitation to some subordinates in need of a good feed with the excuse that they had important state function to attend to. The only ambassador to turn up was the British ambassador who knew Lady Mavis and wanted to renew her acquaintance, which he did.

We tried a few more East coast cities, but the takings were disappointing so uncle

Chapter 5

Bertie decided to try the West coast and we headed for San Francisco.

As soon as we arrived in San Francisco, we got to work setting up the venue. The place was rolling in money, and Uncle Bertie was determined to get his share.

All three of us worked night and day to get everything ready till one afternoon when uncle and I were examining the table layout a street urchin approached us and said, “Hoy, you Bertie.”

Uncle Bertie looked at the urchin and said, “Yes, I am Bertie Carter.”

“Ere,” the urchin said, “some geezer gave me a dollar to give this note to you.”

Uncle Bertie took it, read it, then handed it to me.

It said, “Dear sir,

I hope you are having a good day. We have kidnapped your sister and if you don’t give us two hundred thousand dollars, we will dispose of her body in the Pacific ocean.

Thank you.

PS please wait for instructions “

“Have you seen your mother around,” Uncle Bertie said.

“No. Not since this morning.”

“Damn, the silly woman has got herself kidnapped. I doubt she has wandered off like last time, so I would say somebody has snatched her. I got too much to do, Charlie, so question every one to track her movements.”

“But uncle,” I said, “shouldn’t we go to the police.”

“We’ll call the police when I’m ready to call the police, now get a move on.”

I questioned everyone that mother worked with till I found a young Negro girl who said she hailed a cab to take her to the drapery store. According to the girl, there was a problem with the drapes but when I enquired, the draper denied any problem or requested a meeting. In fact, the doorman at the drapes said that there had been no cabs that day. As luck would have it, I found a newspaper boy who was standing on the corner that day.

“Yer, Guv,” he said, “I sor a cab pick the woman up. Funny thing though, the cab had been waiting on the corner for half an hour and knocked back three rides then this darky girl came out and called to it even though there was two nearer.”

When I reported this to Uncle Bertie, he said, get Joshua and grill the girl. Our party had grown since we landed in New York and uncle had collected a little group of people which he took with him. Joshua, a negro, was one of them. Uncle Bertie used him to go into the unsavoury parts of the town for reasons I could never find out.

Under Joshua’s questioning, the poor girl admitted she was offered ten dollars if she were to direct mother into that cab. She did not know why. She gave a description to Joshua of the man, which was captured by an artist at Uncle Bertie’s suggestion and also described the cab, which had the name Hanson and sons on it.

“Joshua, you search the bars and brothels for this man. Charlie, you track down the cab.”

I had some good luck there. There was a company called Hanson and sons and the owner recalled making this cab. The reason was that it was the only one, as he doesn’t make horse carriages, preferring to stick to wagons. They said Charlie was the name of the man who bought it, but when I tracked him down, he informed me he had sold the cab as he was eighty years old and past it.

“Funny fella,” he said. “I offered him my client list, but he wasn’t interested. Would have been valuable that client list.”

“Do you know his name?” I asked.

“Smith, or something like that. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t his real name, but he paid cash so I didn’t care but I can tell you where we delivered the cab.”

I was delighted and got the address, then hurried back to Uncle Bertie. Joshua had drawn a blank. Uncle Bertie said that they had sent a second note with instructions and a dead line.

“We have three days to find her. Charlie, take Joshua to the address and see if you can find anything.”

We reached what appeared to be an abandoned inn. The building was in very poor condition with all the windows broken. It had a walled courtyard, and the gates were hanging from broken hinges. Inside the courtyard stood the cab with the horses harnessed to it, as if ready to leave. I crept over to the cab and peered inside, then I spotted the handkerchief jammed down the side of the seat. I retrieved it and spotted the monogram, ‘MH’. It was mother’s.

Meanwhile Joshua had crept up to a window and looked inside.

“There’s two men inside,” he reported to me, “and one fits the description of the man we are looking for but no sign of your mother. There planning to get her in the cab. I don’t think they are going to let her go alive.”

I looked around and spotted an old pile of coal. I found a small bag and filled it.

“Got and get uncle,” I said to Joshua, “tell him to follow the trail of coal.”

I clambered into the luggage space with the bag of coal and Joshua hurried off. Soon after, the two men came out and climbed into the cab. As it travelled down the road, I dropped bits of coal behind it. I dropped the last bit as it turned into a gate and travelled up to a large stone cottage. They hitched the horses and went into the cottage. I slipped out and went to the window. I was about to look in when I felt a large thud on the back of my head and everything went black.

As I woke up, I heard my mother’s voice. “Oh Charles, Charles. Speak to me. Are you all right?”

Never in my life have I been so glad to see my mother.

“Where am I? What happened?” I asked.

“Somebody hit you on the head, dear, and you 're with me in a cellar somewhere.”

Just then, the door swung open and three men entered.

“What do we do with him then?” asked one man.

“Dump him in the Pacific with her. Tie them up and let’s get out of here.”

They tied our hands and feet up, gagged us, then we were carried out to the carriage. The men climbed on and left, with one man joining us in the cab with a rifle, which he propped up against the seat. I prayed uncle Bertie would get here soon, but he was nowhere to be seen.

We had travelled about half an hour when I raised my head to look at mother expecting to see a terrified look in her eyes. I was surprised to finding her winking at me and smiling. Just as the carriage swung around a corner, mother’s hands sprung free. She gave the kidnapper a tremendous push, and he flew out of the carriage. I do not think he landed well. She sprang to my side and in record time untied my hands.

Grabbing the rifle, she ordered me to untie her feet, then fired one shot through the roof. There was a single shout from the rider’s seat and a stream of obscene language from mother’s mouth which, translated, said, “Stop this carriage now out or I will fill your backside full of bullets.”

The carriage came to a rapid stop and mother jumped out, pointing the rifle at the kidnappers.

“Get down,” she ordered, “ and Charles here will tie you up. Make one wrong move and I will kill you. I am an excellent shot with rifles. “

She was.

Once they were tied up mother got into the carriage to guard and I drove the carriage back to the cottage where uncle Bertie and Joshua were waiting for us.

Chapter 6

In the end, everything worked out. Uncle Bertie got his money back, and the seminar was an enormous success earning uncle a cool one hundred thousand in deposits and two hundred referrals.

Mother kept nagging Uncle Bertie to get out of this uncivilised country and, since Uncle Bertie had exceeded his target, he agreed but wanted to return via New York, which meant a train trip. Mother was opposed to this.

“That awful thing is noisy and dirty. The beds are hard and uncomfortable and the food is awful. No, we go by sea. I have already organised three cabins on a steamer leaving for London in two weeks.”

Since uncle Bertie was in a good mood, he agreed to the proposal but he felt that taking a train to New York then a sailing ship to London was a lot safer.

I was most impressed by the stream ship. It was a far cry from the old schooner that carried us across the Atlantic. It was much larger, with two stacks. Everywhere was carpeted and our cabins luxurious and spacious The cabin crew were professional and courteous, the food excellent and the entertainment splendid. The only thing I regretted was not being able to talk to the crew.

The sea journey took us down the Californian coast to Mexico, then on to Panama and through the new Panama canal. I thought mother had done us all proud till we hit the Caribbean and ran into a hurricane.

I had never been in anything with so much fury and we all ended up in a life boat with two children and two women and two men. The poor kids, a brother and sister, had lost their parents and mother made it her duty to look after them and adopted them.

Mother ignored uncle’s barbed comments about the safety of trains and organised us all in our duties on the life craft.

“We go that way,” she ordered, pointing west

“and why should we go that way and not that way,” uncle said, pointing East.

“Because that way, you idiot, is the Atlantic ocean. This way,” pointing West, "we will hit land."

As uncle was pretty useless at anything physical, he was put in charge of the rudder and giving instructions to the oarsmen. Mother had worked out a roster to work the oars.

Everything was comfy so far. The weather was wonderful and the seas calm. The life craft was built for more people than us, so we had plenty of rations. I was having a delightful time chatting to one of the woman who was young and quite attractive when mother gave a groan and said we’re heading into a storm. I turned around and looked at a bank of thick black clouds with flashes of lightning.

Mother took immediate control and told everyone to get their lifejackets on and instructed me to get enough cord from the lifeboat kit for each person to tie themselves to the boat. This was to prevent us from floating away if we fall out the boat. She also took control of the rudder and told the men to man the oars and the two women to share one oar. The children were bundled at mother’s feet and Uncle Bertie was given the job of bailing out the boat and in this way we headed into the storm.

The wind rose to a howl, and the rain pelted down on top of us as we starting rowing then we climbed a sudden sharp wave and as we flipped over the top the sudden jolt shot Lucy, one of the children, out of the boat. Undaunted, mother asked if she was floating with her head above water. One man said yes and mother replied, hold on were coming up to a big one and fired out a commands to keep us lined up with the wave. It would be a disaster if we ended up side on. The boat went into a step incline. We went on, going forward, and all our strength was used up in just keeping us in line. I looked up in amazement as I looked down on the water and bracing myself with my feet to stop falling then we tipped over the top of the wave and fell backwards.

We scrambled back into place as the boat raced down the back slope of the wave.

“The girl,” mother shouted, “ is she still afloat?”

I peered through the gloom and spotted the little head .

“Yes,” I yelled.

“Right, get ready for the next one and bail for your life Bertie.”

We were prepared now and climbed over the wave then the next one which was smaller till we were floating with just the rain pelting down on top of us. Mother pulled Lucy in and hauled her out of the water coughing and spluttering but otherwise alright.

For the rest of the day we all huddled under a tarpaulin wet and miserable and the morning sun beat down on us. We sat steaming ánd miserable in our saturated clothes. Sandra, the young woman, said, “if we weren’t such ladies and gentlemen we would strip off and dry ourselves.”

One man jumped up and announced he had an idea. He stuck two oars, upright, in the rowlocks and tied the tarpaulin between the oars.

“Right,” he said, “ladies to the front, blokes to the back.”

As each group stripped off, there was much giggling and a robust exchange of comments till there was ladies undergarment and men’s longjohns flying in the breeze.

For most of the day both groups dried off in the sun and fell fast asleep until one child asked what that big boat with the smoke coming out of it was doing. I stood up and stared at a steamer whose deck was packed with sailors, some with telescopes, waving, yelling and cheering at us. Everyone, especially the women, rushed to get dressed and just as we were doing up the last buttons the ship’s tender chugged up alongside.

“Ahoy there,” a sailor yelled, “are you from the SS Luxury that sank some weeks ago.”

We yelled we were and soon was hauled aboard the tender.

The shipping company got us to New York and onto a sailing schooner back to England with no further incidents. I went back to school and on to university.

That year wasn’t my finest year, but it was one where I found untapped strengths within me and saw some wonderful qualities in my mother.

Uncle Bertie’s project was quite successful, and he moved into one villa and managed the resort. He also signed over control of mother’s trust to mother. He reasoned that anybody that can save his life can manage their own money. Mother went back to her estate and adopted the two children then raised them to be well-mannered, successful people to my amazement. Oh and I married the cabin boy.

My trip to America

by

Kenneth Allan

Chapter 1

“Your mother has come to collect you, Heston,” said the headmaster. That was a surprise, I thought. I only ever saw my mother three times a year, birthdays, holidays and Christmas. When I was six, she explained it to me as I was packed onto the train to boarding school.

“I’m quite fond of you, Charles, but your presence is quite inconvenient. I’m having to spend money on Nannies and nurses and I’m tired of explaining you to my men friends when they stay over.”

This explanation didn’t seem to bother me much as my mother was never in my life anyway, but I also knew, in her own strange way, that she loved me and that was enough.

I had no problems at boarding school as I was big and strong enough to handle bullies and any master that wanted to use me for some out of hour’s recreation was told that I would blast his name all over the local newspaper.

“Matron has packed your bags and your mother is waiting in the limousine,” said the headmaster.

I stood on the steps of the school and looked at my mother. She was, as always, the picture of elegance, a genuine lady of blue blood. I opened the door and got inside.

“Charles, “ she announced, “how perfectly lovely to see you.”

“What’s up, mother?” I asked.

“Uncle Bertie has turned up on my doorstep.”

Ah, Uncle Bertie, that explained everything. Uncle Bertie is my mother’s brother. When my grandfather died, he divided his wealth between Uncle Bertie and mother, but he was under no illusion about mother’s attitude to money. He put her share into a trust in perpetuity or until Uncle Bertie died. Mother was paid a handsome allowance from the trust, which she spent with ease.

Uncle Bertie was immune to all the pleadings from mother about more money, but I was his favorite, his only nephew, and I could twist him around my little finger so whenever mother needed money she rolled me out in front of him.

“Broke are you, mother?” I asked.

“I’m not, as a matter of fact. Uncle Bertie wants to speak to you and what Uncle Bertie wants Uncle Bertie gets.”

I was disappointed. I always got a bonus when I screwed money out of Uncle Bertie for mum.

Uncle Bertie was waiting for us in the garden, and he arose when we arrived. The only way to describe Uncle Bertie was that he was like a snowman, except he wasn’t white. His body comprised two blobs. A large one for his body and a smaller one for his head. He had two stick-like legs and arms. His eyes were little spots of black and a red nose like a carrot. According to several doctors, he would soon die of many diseases associated with obesity, but he was still going strong. There was no chance he was going to depart soon, much to my mother’s disappointment.

“Charles, my boy. You get bigger each time I see you. Come, give me a hug.”

Hugging Uncle Bertie was performed more in theory than practice. My arms were nowhere near big enough for his chest.

“Hi Uncle Bertie. What are you doing here?”

“I have come, my boy, to launch you into your new career.

“but uncle,“ I said, “I’ve still got two years of school left then I’m going to university.”

“Poo, fiddlesticks. By fourteen I was out in the world making my fortune.” Uncle Bertie said.

“Rubbish,” replied mother, “at fourteen daddy kicked you out when he caught you with the scullery maid.”

“And that was the making of me. I have only ever looked up since then.”

“Double rubbish,” laughed mother, “you returned begging father to forgive you. You hadn’t eaten in two days and you were sleeping in the boathouse.”

Uncle Bertie’s demeanor changed as he said, “I’d like to talk to you about last month’s accounts.”

Mother shut up.

“Charles, I am about to embark on a long sea voyage to the Americas. The eastern states to be exact, then I catch a train to West Coast. I will mix with the elite and the rich. I need a fit young man as my companion. One that is intelligent and cultured. One that I can introduce into the society and will look after my back.”

Before I could answer mother said, "I’m afraid that will not be possible without my permission however... “

“Here we go,” said Uncle Bertie.

“If I was there to supervise him, I might allow it.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged, my dear.”

Later that night I asked mother why she wanted to come along. I was sure she didn’t care what I did.

“I have no intention of letting Bertie loose amongst those New York women. One might decide to marry him then where would we be.”

Chapter 2

The three of us stood on the dock, staring at the ship in front of us.

“Are you sure this is the right ship, Bertie,” asked my mother.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “I’ve had to be careful with my money. It would be all right for the boy and I but you insisted on coming along.”

Mother stormed up the gangplank and insisted on being taken to her cabin. She was rewarded with a blank stare. After another bout of shouting, an officer turned up.

“Excuse me, madam, but you 're making a lot of noise,” a very handsome young man in a uniform said.

Mother turned to him.

“You appear to be, sir, a gentleman,” said mother smiling at him with her eyes.

“Alas, I’m not ma’am. I am a convicted thief and have fathered four bastard children but, anyway, how can I help you.”

“Could you show us to our cabin please, then perhaps you could give me a tour of the ship?”

I did not see mother again until just before bedtime when she turned up, in her nightclothes, pale as a ghost.

“What’s up, mother?” I asked.

“Let me in and get me a drink. Bertie must have some rum somewhere.”

I got her a decent shot of rum, which she disposed of.

“I’ve just been to the toilet. Have you been yet, of course not. There’s eight seats, four on each side, side by side. There no dividing walls or anything for privacy. I was desperate, but I had no choice and the room was empty, so I sat down. I was right in the middle of it when two men came in. They took no notice of me and pulled there pants down and sat. One right next to me. Then they started talking about their next shore leave when they reach New York amongst all the vulgar noises going on. Then they finished, and without cleaning themselves, got up and left. I got out just as another man came in. Charles, I’m not going to the toilet again unless you come with me and guard the door.”

We weren’t the only passengers on the ship. There was one solitary man, a very dark, broody person, and a young married couple. Everyone stayed in their cabins, coming up on deck for fresh air. I, however, explored the ship. The crew was a rough lot, but peaceful. To my surprise, I found there were other women on board. There was the cook and her daughter, a girl disguised as a cabin boy and the captain’s wife, I think.

The cook was my favourite. She was a round, cheery person with rosy cheeks and a deep, honest laugh. She had been a ship’s cook since she was a girl and, no, she has never been married. Her daughter was the exact opposite. Like her father, said the cook, the miserable bastard. She was thin, serious and pale. She refused to talk to me and scurried in to the back of the kitchen. Wot she needs is a good rogering, said her mother, looking meaningfully at me. I scurried back to the cabin.

I never realised the cabin boy was a girl till I watched the crew jump in the net. When the conditions are right, they put down a net behind the ship and anyone can jump in to get an overdue bath. I was rather stunned to see this naked woman jump in with the rest of the crew.

“Who is that,” I asked, pointing at the naked woman.

“That’s the cabin-boy, but don’t touch her. The last one that tried lost his testicles.”

I assured him I wouldn’t try, but I made friends with her. She had one condition for her friendship and that I treat her as a boy. I can tell you it wasn’t easy. The greatest test came on the day we jumped into the net together. That body, those breasts, were a torment to me, but I kept my hands to myself. It paid off not now but years later.

The captain’s wife, or who I thought was his wife, was off limits to everyone. A part of the ship was roped off and she could often be seen there, sitting on a deck chair reading a book. There was no doubt what would happen if someone went near her without the captain’s permission. The crew would often tell terrible stories of those who disobeyed. She looked exquisite, and I wondered how I could talk to her without getting strung up from the yard arm.

I was left to myself on the ship. Uncle Bertie spent all of his time in the cabin pouring over reams of pages regarding his project, and mother spent all her time with the handsome first mate. In fact, I caught her coming out of his cabin a few times during the voyage. I would spend many hours down in the crew’s mess, chatting with the crew. They were a rough lot, but cheery and hospitable. I had a few tots of rum and they taught me the delights of a tobacco pipe.

There were many stories of shore leave and shady women. These pleasant times sometimes lasted till midnight. Then I would wander about the decks of the ship, smoking my pipe. On one such night, I was standing near the roped off area when I heard a ‘Psst’. I jumped and turned around to stare into the eyes of the captain’s wife.

“How old are you?” she whispered.

Puzzled, I said," Fifteen."

“Oh thank god, you 're just a boy, father won’t be as upset.” she said.

Ignoring the implied insult I said, “ but aren’t you the Captain’s Wife.”

“Oh heavens no. I am his daughter, step-daughter.” she answered.

“Well, how old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“And why wouldn’t your father be upset.”

“He thinks every man on this ship wants to bed me but you 're only a boy.”

I took a deep suck on my pipe, trying to decide if I should ignore the insult, but before I could she lifted the rope and said, “Come on, talk with me.”

With a dreadfull fealing, I crawled under the rope and we sat down together, out of sight.

“Whats your name,” I asked.

“Cynthia and yours?”

“Charles. Why are you living this life?” I asked.

“My mother died when I was fifteen and still at school. It was a school in France and when I turned seventeen, I had nowhere to go. I have no relatives other than my step-father, so he took me along with him. I love my step-father but this life is driving me mad.”

Thereafter we met at night and the friendship deepened till on a moonless night, when only the stars lit the sky, we kissed. Standing right behind us was her step-father.

It took a large bundle of money and an impassioned plea from my mother to stop the Captain from putting me on a lifeboat and setting me adrift, but it freed Cynthia. Her step-fathers condition was that I would accompany her wherever she went on the ship and I would be responsible for her safety. I agreed.

Chapter 3

It was a heartbreaking time when we reached New York. Cynthia said that they were moving on from New York almost immediately and sailing down the coast to Mexico. Mother told me not to be so upset, as this was the best breakup possible. No one gets blamed and everyone feels good. She showed this by kissing her handsome first mate and strolled down the gangplank without a backward look.

We entered the noisy, bustling port of New York, and Uncle Bertie hauled a cab. He took us to a very luxurious hotel near a place called Times Square. Uncle Bertie hit the road running. He hired a function room and a small army of messenger boys to hand deliver his personnel invitations to one hundred rich Italian families and about twenty not so Italian ones. He then enlisted mother’s help to organise the function.

At first, mother refused, but he offered to double her allowance if she helped. Mother jumped in with both feet and proved more than capable. She organised the hotel staff, created the menu and instructed the kitchen staff, designed the table layout, and selected the wine. All but a few people declined the invitation. After all, it was free food and wine plus the chance to mix with the richest of families. Mother added a brilliant touch by greeting each guest in fluent Italian whether or not they could speak it.

Food and wine were served, and when everyone was comfortable, fed, and relaxed, Uncle Bertie began his pitch. Regardless of his dubious appearance, he was a brilliant speaker. His consortium had purchased a large parcel of land somewhere on the southern Italian coast. The idea was to build forty high class, luxurious Villas, grouped around the bay and sell these to investors overseas. The consortium, for a juicy fee, would manage the villas, rent them out to locals or other Europeans at a tidy profit or people could purchase shares in the investment.

At the end of the evening the three of us sat round a table drinking the wine and eating the left over food.

“How much did you make Bertie?” asked mother. “

“Twelve thousand dollars in cheques and fifty expressions of interest.”

“How much do you need to make?” She enquired.

“Target is two hundred thousand, but I need a minimum of one hundred thousand to start the next phase of the project.”

I could almost see pound signs appear in mother’s eyes.

Chapter 4

The next day Uncle Bertie payed the bill, and we headed out to the next city on the list, but there was a slight hiccup when we arrived. There was no function room at the hotel for Uncle Bernie to conduct his talk, and it took some time to find a suitable venue. During this time, mother vanished.

“Don’t worry about your mother, boy,” said Uncle Bertie. "She does that. She eventually turns up, usually at a rather inconvenient time."

It was strange, I thought, that I could go for months and not think about seeing her but when she is around, I worry as soon as she’s gone for a couple of days and after a week I was frantic.

“All right boy, all right, “ said Uncle Bertie irritated by the difficulty in finding a venue, “try the police stations.”

“Police stations!” I exclaimed, “why not the hospital’s. “

“Because it’s my sister we’re concerned about. Trust me, police stations are the best bet.”

I visited each precinct, one by one, till I came to a dilapidated one in an dilapidated suburb. Behind the desk was a fat desk sergeant. He took one look at me and said in a broad Irish brogue.

“Wot can I be doing for you, sonny?”

“I’m looking for my mother who has gone missing,” I said.

He looked at me and said, “ Would she have brown hair, about five foot five, around forty and sound just like you.”

“Yes, yes that sounds like her.”

Heaving himself up off the desk he said, “ We have a woman that has been arrested for soliciting money for sex.”

“Impossible,” I exclaimed. “My mother would never do such a thing. “

The fat sergeant shrugged his shoulders as he led me to the cells.

“She was arrested, drunk and naked in a brothel. A man was in the room with her.”

He swung the cell door open and there was mother. She was dressed in a semitransparent fur lined night gown, naked underneath. Her hair was an absolute mess, her cheeks all tear stained, and her lipstick smeared all around her mouth.

“Charlie, Charlie,” she cried, “ I want to go home to London. I want out of this horrible country. “

“You must let her go, sergeant,” I pleaded.

Shoving mother back in the cell, he slammed shut the cell door.

“Bail is set at fifty dollars. The only way she is going anywhere is if you cough up the bail.”

I rushed to get Uncle Bertie, and we raced back to the police station.

“All right, Mavis. What happened?” he asked.

“Oh Bertie, I didn’t think I was so naïve. I met a charming gentle man who invited me to a party. Once there, I drank too much and blacked out, then I woke up, naked with a man about to do horrible things to me. Before he had a chance, the police raided the place and dragged me away. I just had time to grab this night gown.”

“Charlie has brought you some clothes and things to fix yourself up. I will fix the sergeant.”

Once at the desk he said to the sergeant, “ Sergeant, this has all been a great mistake. My sister would never sell herself for sex... “

“She enjoys giving it away for free,” I said, thinking I was being helpful. A swift kick from uncle told me different.

“Here is my sister’s passport. You can see she is Lady Mavis Hester and quite wealthy in her own right. The thought of selling herself for sex is therefore quite ridiculous as she has no need of the money.”

“Mister, she could be Lady Doris of the Bull and Cow for all I know, but I know who would. Daphne, come out here,” he yelled to somebody in the back room.

A little woman came out and said, “what do you want, Flynn.”

“Daphne here is an expert on the English. She dotes over them and the royal family. She would know who this lady is.”

Daphne darted into the back room and came out with a gigantic volume of who’s who of the British aristocracy.

Leafing through the book, she said, “Ah yes. Lady Mavis Hester, one hundred and eighty-nine in line for the throne and also quite wealthy. See they’ve even got a photo of her.”

They had indeed, and it was a very good one.

“Well, never let it be said I mistreat British royalty, even though I’m Irish. Constable Smith, release the woman.”

We took mother back to the hotel, gave her a very large brandy and put her to bed. She never strayed from our side again.

Uncle got a venue and mother recovered enough to do an excellent job of running it. Uncle picked up forty thousand in cash and another fifty expressions of interest.

We again travelled to the next city and uncle prepared for another seminar but ran into a problem with an official from the city council, one of the sheriff’s officers.

“ Ahem, Mr Carter, Bertie Carter? “ he asked.

“How can I help you, dear man,” uncle Bertie replied.

“This is a delightful party you are putting on. Is it a private function?” he asked.

“It is, I am raising funds for an exciting project in Italy,” replied Uncle Bertie.

*Are you now, “said Officer Brown,” and do you have all the correct permits."

This threw Uncle Bertie off balance and he fumbled through his brief case so I stepped in and said, “Uncle Bernie checked with the hotel manager. As the venue is being held on private premises none are required.”

“Quite so, quite so but what about insurance.”

That stumped me.

“What do I need insurance for?” asked uncle.

“Oh in case there’s a fire, somebody has a nasty accident just outside the hotel, the council in there wisdom declared the hotel dangerous, outbreak of cholera. Many strange things like that.”

“And... Umm... How much would this instance cost me.”

“Oh, I think five hundred should do it. Look, why don’t I come back tomorrow so you can think about it. OK?”

Officer Brown strode away, and Uncle Bertie immediately sought the hotel manager.

“Insurance, nonsense the hotel’s insurance covers it all. Who told you this?” the manager asked.

“Someone called Officer Brown.”

“Ah right. Officer brown. He runs a little protection racket. Targets people like you. Most of the council has little bits of side business like that. It’s best to pay because he can screw things up for you.”

Uncle Bertie thanked him, then turned to me. “Now’s your chance to do your bit, my boy. When he comes to be paid, I want you to follow him and report to me everything, and I mean everything, he does. Understand.”

Officer brown returned, collected his money and left. I never lost him. He visited many establishments. Some were brothels, some illegal casinos and other buildings I couldn’t make out. He never stayed long enough to take part in any of the activities. All except one house.

He stayed there till eleven in the evening, then went straight home. One night I crept up to the window. I observed an attractive woman inside and they were counting money on the table, dividing it into two piles. When they were finished, each one took a pile, then they became intimate. I left them as I had an idea. I went to the officer’s home and knocked on the door. I asked the woman there if I could speak to officer brown.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “ but officer brown is on duty at the moment. He will be home at eleven thirty. “

Officer brown was cheating on his wife. Uncle would be delighted.

“Do you know the name of the mistress?” he asked.

“Miss Campbell,” I answered.

He grabbed two invitations and wrote on each.

“Give these to each of the women but make sure Officer Brown doesn’t see you.”

On the day of the seminar, Officer Brown and his wife turned up. They were greeted by mother and conducted to their table. Shortly after Miss Campbell arrived and when she saw which table she was going to sit at, she baulked.

“Is there another table I could sit at, please?”

“In so sorry,” replied mother, “but all seats are booked

She sat Miss Campbell on the other side of an uneasy Officer Brown. I waited till the meal was over, but before Uncle Bertie started his speech, I tapped Officer Brown on the shoulder and told him someone wishes to speak to him in the foyer. Once outside, I guided him into the gent’s washroom.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

“Officer brown,” I said, “ I would like to offer you some insurance by my uncle.”

“What are you up to.?” he snorted.

“He is offering to ensure that the entire hall, and your wife, does not find out about your mistress, Miss Campbell, and that you split your ‘insurance premiums’ with her.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” he replied." I would have him run out of town. “

“Oh, I don’t think it would be him that’s run out of town. I know you have dealings with about a dozen of these men and more I don’t know about. I bet they all would be pleased to see you run out of town, never mind about your wife.”

Officer brown turned pale and asked, “How much?”

“I have been allowed to give you the special price of five thousand dollars.”

“Five thousand!” He exclaimed, “ that’s ten times more than I got from him. “

“I guess it’s ten times more important.”

“Look, I don’t have that sort of money on me. I need time to get it.”

“We will take a cheque now, Officer Brown. After all, a bounced cheque is worse that adultery.”

“OK, OK,” he said, reaching for his cheque book.

When the seminar finished, uncle Bertie totaled it all up.

“Sixty-eight thousand in deposits and one hundred and twenty expressions of interest plus five thousand towards expenses courtesy of Officer Brown.”

We packed up and headed for Washington, the capital.

“It’s not that I am expecting a lot of money here but there are lots of ambassadors that could give me letters of introduction to influential people in there country.”

Uncle Bertie was a global thinker, but it turned out to be a dismal failure. Not only did we make only eight thousand dollars, but he did not receive a single letter of introduction. The ambassadors passed the invitation to some subordinates in need of a good feed with the excuse that they had important state function to attend to. The only ambassador to turn up was the British ambassador who knew Lady Mavis and wanted to renew her acquaintance, which he did.

We tried a few more East coast cities, but the takings were disappointing so uncle

Chapter 5

Bertie decided to try the West coast and we headed for San Francisco.

As soon as we arrived in San Francisco, we got to work setting up the venue. The place was rolling in money, and Uncle Bertie was determined to get his share.

All three of us worked night and day to get everything ready till one afternoon when uncle and I were examining the table layout a street urchin approached us and said, “Hoy, you Bertie.”

Uncle Bertie looked at the urchin and said, “Yes, I am Bertie Carter.”

“Ere,” the urchin said, “some geezer gave me a dollar to give this note to you.”

Uncle Bertie took it, read it, then handed it to me.

It said, “Dear sir,

I hope you are having a good day. We have kidnapped your sister and if you don’t give us two hundred thousand dollars, we will dispose of her body in the Pacific ocean.

Thank you.

PS please wait for instructions “

“Have you seen your mother around,” Uncle Bertie said.

“No. Not since this morning.”

“Damn, the silly woman has got herself kidnapped. I doubt she has wandered off like last time, so I would say somebody has snatched her. I got too much to do, Charlie, so question every one to track her movements.”

“But uncle,” I said, “shouldn’t we go to the police.”

“We’ll call the police when I’m ready to call the police, now get a move on.”

I questioned everyone that mother worked with till I found a young Negro girl who said she hailed a cab to take her to the drapery store. According to the girl, there was a problem with the drapes but when I enquired, the draper denied any problem or requested a meeting. In fact, the doorman at the drapes said that there had been no cabs that day. As luck would have it, I found a newspaper boy who was standing on the corner that day.

“Yer, Guv,” he said, “I sor a cab pick the woman up. Funny thing though, the cab had been waiting on the corner for half an hour and knocked back three rides then this darky girl came out and called to it even though there was two nearer.”

When I reported this to Uncle Bertie, he said, get Joshua and grill the girl. Our party had grown since we landed in New York and uncle had collected a little group of people which he took with him. Joshua, a negro, was one of them. Uncle Bertie used him to go into the unsavoury parts of the town for reasons I could never find out.

Under Joshua’s questioning, the poor girl admitted she was offered ten dollars if she were to direct mother into that cab. She did not know why. She gave a description to Joshua of the man, which was captured by an artist at Uncle Bertie’s suggestion and also described the cab, which had the name Hanson and sons on it.

“Joshua, you search the bars and brothels for this man. Charlie, you track down the cab.”

I had some good luck there. There was a company called Hanson and sons and the owner recalled making this cab. The reason was that it was the only one, as he doesn’t make horse carriages, preferring to stick to wagons. They said Charlie was the name of the man who bought it, but when I tracked him down, he informed me he had sold the cab as he was eighty years old and past it.

“Funny fella,” he said. “I offered him my client list, but he wasn’t interested. Would have been valuable that client list.”

“Do you know his name?” I asked.

“Smith, or something like that. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t his real name, but he paid cash so I didn’t care but I can tell you where we delivered the cab.”

I was delighted and got the address, then hurried back to Uncle Bertie. Joshua had drawn a blank. Uncle Bertie said that they had sent a second note with instructions and a dead line.

“We have three days to find her. Charlie, take Joshua to the address and see if you can find anything.”

We reached what appeared to be an abandoned inn. The building was in very poor condition with all the windows broken. It had a walled courtyard, and the gates were hanging from broken hinges. Inside the courtyard stood the cab with the horses harnessed to it, as if ready to leave. I crept over to the cab and peered inside, then I spotted the handkerchief jammed down the side of the seat. I retrieved it and spotted the monogram, ‘MH’. It was mother’s.

Meanwhile Joshua had crept up to a window and looked inside.

“There’s two men inside,” he reported to me, “and one fits the description of the man we are looking for but no sign of your mother. There planning to get her in the cab. I don’t think they are going to let her go alive.”

I looked around and spotted an old pile of coal. I found a small bag and filled it.

“Got and get uncle,” I said to Joshua, “tell him to follow the trail of coal.”

I clambered into the luggage space with the bag of coal and Joshua hurried off. Soon after, the two men came out and climbed into the cab. As it travelled down the road, I dropped bits of coal behind it. I dropped the last bit as it turned into a gate and travelled up to a large stone cottage. They hitched the horses and went into the cottage. I slipped out and went to the window. I was about to look in when I felt a large thud on the back of my head and everything went black.

As I woke up, I heard my mother’s voice. “Oh Charles, Charles. Speak to me. Are you all right?”

Never in my life have I been so glad to see my mother.

“Where am I? What happened?” I asked.

“Somebody hit you on the head, dear, and you 're with me in a cellar somewhere.”

Just then, the door swung open and three men entered.

“What do we do with him then?” asked one man.

“Dump him in the Pacific with her. Tie them up and let’s get out of here.”

They tied our hands and feet up, gagged us, then we were carried out to the carriage. The men climbed on and left, with one man joining us in the cab with a rifle, which he propped up against the seat. I prayed uncle Bertie would get here soon, but he was nowhere to be seen.

We had travelled about half an hour when I raised my head to look at mother expecting to see a terrified look in her eyes. I was surprised to finding her winking at me and smiling. Just as the carriage swung around a corner, mother’s hands sprung free. She gave the kidnapper a tremendous push, and he flew out of the carriage. I do not think he landed well. She sprang to my side and in record time untied my hands.

Grabbing the rifle, she ordered me to untie her feet, then fired one shot through the roof. There was a single shout from the rider’s seat and a stream of obscene language from mother’s mouth which, translated, said, “Stop this carriage now out or I will fill your backside full of bullets.”

The carriage came to a rapid stop and mother jumped out, pointing the rifle at the kidnappers.

“Get down,” she ordered, “ and Charles here will tie you up. Make one wrong move and I will kill you. I am an excellent shot with rifles. “

She was.

Once they were tied up mother got into the carriage to guard and I drove the carriage back to the cottage where uncle Bertie and Joshua were waiting for us.

Chapter 6

In the end, everything worked out. Uncle Bertie got his money back, and the seminar was an enormous success earning uncle a cool one hundred thousand in deposits and two hundred referrals.

Mother kept nagging Uncle Bertie to get out of this uncivilised country and, since Uncle Bertie had exceeded his target, he agreed but wanted to return via New York, which meant a train trip. Mother was opposed to this.

“That awful thing is noisy and dirty. The beds are hard and uncomfortable and the food is awful. No, we go by sea. I have already organised three cabins on a steamer leaving for London in two weeks.”

Since uncle Bertie was in a good mood, he agreed to the proposal but he felt that taking a train to New York then a sailing ship to London was a lot safer.

I was most impressed by the stream ship. It was a far cry from the old schooner that carried us across the Atlantic. It was much larger, with two stacks. Everywhere was carpeted and our cabins luxurious and spacious The cabin crew were professional and courteous, the food excellent and the entertainment splendid. The only thing I regretted was not being able to talk to the crew.

The sea journey took us down the Californian coast to Mexico, then on to Panama and through the new Panama canal. I thought mother had done us all proud till we hit the Caribbean and ran into a hurricane.

I had never been in anything with so much fury and we all ended up in a life boat with two children and two women and two men. The poor kids, a brother and sister, had lost their parents and mother made it her duty to look after them and adopted them.

Mother ignored uncle’s barbed comments about the safety of trains and organised us all in our duties on the life craft.

“We go that way,” she ordered, pointing west

“and why should we go that way and not that way,” uncle said, pointing East.

“Because that way, you idiot, is the Atlantic ocean. This way,” pointing West, "we will hit land."

As uncle was pretty useless at anything physical, he was put in charge of the rudder and giving instructions to the oarsmen. Mother had worked out a roster to work the oars.

Everything was comfy so far. The weather was wonderful and the seas calm. The life craft was built for more people than us, so we had plenty of rations. I was having a delightful time chatting to one of the woman who was young and quite attractive when mother gave a groan and said we’re heading into a storm. I turned around and looked at a bank of thick black clouds with flashes of lightning.

Mother took immediate control and told everyone to get their lifejackets on and instructed me to get enough cord from the lifeboat kit for each person to tie themselves to the boat. This was to prevent us from floating away if we fall out the boat. She also took control of the rudder and told the men to man the oars and the two women to share one oar. The children were bundled at mother’s feet and Uncle Bertie was given the job of bailing out the boat and in this way we headed into the storm.

The wind rose to a howl, and the rain pelted down on top of us as we starting rowing then we climbed a sudden sharp wave and as we flipped over the top the sudden jolt shot Lucy, one of the children, out of the boat. Undaunted, mother asked if she was floating with her head above water. One man said yes and mother replied, hold on were coming up to a big one and fired out a commands to keep us lined up with the wave. It would be a disaster if we ended up side on. The boat went into a step incline. We went on, going forward, and all our strength was used up in just keeping us in line. I looked up in amazement as I looked down on the water and bracing myself with my feet to stop falling then we tipped over the top of the wave and fell backwards.

We scrambled back into place as the boat raced down the back slope of the wave.

“The girl,” mother shouted, “ is she still afloat?”

I peered through the gloom and spotted the little head .

“Yes,” I yelled.

“Right, get ready for the next one and bail for your life Bertie.”

We were prepared now and climbed over the wave then the next one which was smaller till we were floating with just the rain pelting down on top of us. Mother pulled Lucy in and hauled her out of the water coughing and spluttering but otherwise alright.

For the rest of the day we all huddled under a tarpaulin wet and miserable and the morning sun beat down on us. We sat steaming ánd miserable in our saturated clothes. Sandra, the young woman, said, “if we weren’t such ladies and gentlemen we would strip off and dry ourselves.”

One man jumped up and announced he had an idea. He stuck two oars, upright, in the rowlocks and tied the tarpaulin between the oars.

“Right,” he said, “ladies to the front, blokes to the back.”

As each group stripped off, there was much giggling and a robust exchange of comments till there was ladies undergarment and men’s longjohns flying in the breeze.

For most of the day both groups dried off in the sun and fell fast asleep until one child asked what that big boat with the smoke coming out of it was doing. I stood up and stared at a steamer whose deck was packed with sailors, some with telescopes, waving, yelling and cheering at us. Everyone, especially the women, rushed to get dressed and just as we were doing up the last buttons the ship’s tender chugged up alongside.

“Ahoy there,” a sailor yelled, “are you from the SS Luxury that sank some weeks ago.”

We yelled we were and soon was hauled aboard the tender.

The shipping company got us to New York and onto a sailing schooner back to England with no further incidents. I went back to school and on to university.

That year wasn’t my finest year, but it was one where I found untapped strengths within me and saw some wonderful qualities in my mother.

Uncle Bertie’s project was quite successful, and he moved into one villa and managed the resort. He also signed over control of mother’s trust to mother. He reasoned that anybody that can save his life can manage their own money. Mother went back to her estate and adopted the two children then raised them to be well-mannered, successful people to my amazement. Oh and I married the cabin boy.

My trip to America

by

Kenneth Allan

Chapter 1

“Your mother has come to collect you, Heston,” said the headmaster. That was a surprise, I thought. I only ever saw my mother three times a year, birthdays, holidays and Christmas. When I was six, she explained it to me as I was packed onto the train to boarding school.

“I’m quite fond of you, Charles, but your presence is quite inconvenient. I’m having to spend money on Nannies and nurses and I’m tired of explaining you to my men friends when they stay over.”

This explanation didn’t seem to bother me much as my mother was never in my life anyway, but I also knew, in her own strange way, that she loved me and that was enough.

I had no problems at boarding school as I was big and strong enough to handle bullies and any master that wanted to use me for some out of hour’s recreation was told that I would blast his name all over the local newspaper.

“Matron has packed your bags and your mother is waiting in the limousine,” said the headmaster.

I stood on the steps of the school and looked at my mother. She was, as always, the picture of elegance, a genuine lady of blue blood. I opened the door and got inside.

“Charles, “ she announced, “how perfectly lovely to see you.”

“What’s up, mother?” I asked.

“Uncle Bertie has turned up on my doorstep.”

Ah, Uncle Bertie, that explained everything. Uncle Bertie is my mother’s brother. When my grandfather died, he divided his wealth between Uncle Bertie and mother, but he was under no illusion about mother’s attitude to money. He put her share into a trust in perpetuity or until Uncle Bertie died. Mother was paid a handsome allowance from the trust, which she spent with ease.

Uncle Bertie was immune to all the pleadings from mother about more money, but I was his favorite, his only nephew, and I could twist him around my little finger so whenever mother needed money she rolled me out in front of him.

“Broke are you, mother?” I asked.

“I’m not, as a matter of fact. Uncle Bertie wants to speak to you and what Uncle Bertie wants Uncle Bertie gets.”

I was disappointed. I always got a bonus when I screwed money out of Uncle Bertie for mum.

Uncle Bertie was waiting for us in the garden, and he arose when we arrived. The only way to describe Uncle Bertie was that he was like a snowman, except he wasn’t white. His body comprised two blobs. A large one for his body and a smaller one for his head. He had two stick-like legs and arms. His eyes were little spots of black and a red nose like a carrot. According to several doctors, he would soon die of many diseases associated with obesity, but he was still going strong. There was no chance he was going to depart soon, much to my mother’s disappointment.

“Charles, my boy. You get bigger each time I see you. Come, give me a hug.”

Hugging Uncle Bertie was performed more in theory than practice. My arms were nowhere near big enough for his chest.

“Hi Uncle Bertie. What are you doing here?”

“I have come, my boy, to launch you into your new career.

“but uncle,“ I said, “I’ve still got two years of school left then I’m going to university.”

“Poo, fiddlesticks. By fourteen I was out in the world making my fortune.” Uncle Bertie said.

“Rubbish,” replied mother, “at fourteen daddy kicked you out when he caught you with the scullery maid.”

“And that was the making of me. I have only ever looked up since then.”

“Double rubbish,” laughed mother, “you returned begging father to forgive you. You hadn’t eaten in two days and you were sleeping in the boathouse.”

Uncle Bertie’s demeanor changed as he said, “I’d like to talk to you about last month’s accounts.”

Mother shut up.

“Charles, I am about to embark on a long sea voyage to the Americas. The eastern states to be exact, then I catch a train to West Coast. I will mix with the elite and the rich. I need a fit young man as my companion. One that is intelligent and cultured. One that I can introduce into the society and will look after my back.”

Before I could answer mother said, "I’m afraid that will not be possible without my permission however... “

“Here we go,” said Uncle Bertie.

“If I was there to supervise him, I might allow it.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged, my dear.”

Later that night I asked mother why she wanted to come along. I was sure she didn’t care what I did.

“I have no intention of letting Bertie loose amongst those New York women. One might decide to marry him then where would we be.”

Chapter 2

The three of us stood on the dock, staring at the ship in front of us.

“Are you sure this is the right ship, Bertie,” asked my mother.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “I’ve had to be careful with my money. It would be all right for the boy and I but you insisted on coming along.”

Mother stormed up the gangplank and insisted on being taken to her cabin. She was rewarded with a blank stare. After another bout of shouting, an officer turned up.

“Excuse me, madam, but you 're making a lot of noise,” a very handsome young man in a uniform said.

Mother turned to him.

“You appear to be, sir, a gentleman,” said mother smiling at him with her eyes.

“Alas, I’m not ma’am. I am a convicted thief and have fathered four bastard children but, anyway, how can I help you.”

“Could you show us to our cabin please, then perhaps you could give me a tour of the ship?”

I did not see mother again until just before bedtime when she turned up, in her nightclothes, pale as a ghost.

“What’s up, mother?” I asked.

“Let me in and get me a drink. Bertie must have some rum somewhere.”

I got her a decent shot of rum, which she disposed of.

“I’ve just been to the toilet. Have you been yet, of course not. There’s eight seats, four on each side, side by side. There no dividing walls or anything for privacy. I was desperate, but I had no choice and the room was empty, so I sat down. I was right in the middle of it when two men came in. They took no notice of me and pulled there pants down and sat. One right next to me. Then they started talking about their next shore leave when they reach New York amongst all the vulgar noises going on. Then they finished, and without cleaning themselves, got up and left. I got out just as another man came in. Charles, I’m not going to the toilet again unless you come with me and guard the door.”

We weren’t the only passengers on the ship. There was one solitary man, a very dark, broody person, and a young married couple. Everyone stayed in their cabins, coming up on deck for fresh air. I, however, explored the ship. The crew was a rough lot, but peaceful. To my surprise, I found there were other women on board. There was the cook and her daughter, a girl disguised as a cabin boy and the captain’s wife, I think.

The cook was my favourite. She was a round, cheery person with rosy cheeks and a deep, honest laugh. She had been a ship’s cook since she was a girl and, no, she has never been married. Her daughter was the exact opposite. Like her father, said the cook, the miserable bastard. She was thin, serious and pale. She refused to talk to me and scurried in to the back of the kitchen. Wot she needs is a good rogering, said her mother, looking meaningfully at me. I scurried back to the cabin.

I never realised the cabin boy was a girl till I watched the crew jump in the net. When the conditions are right, they put down a net behind the ship and anyone can jump in to get an overdue bath. I was rather stunned to see this naked woman jump in with the rest of the crew.

“Who is that,” I asked, pointing at the naked woman.

“That’s the cabin-boy, but don’t touch her. The last one that tried lost his testicles.”

I assured him I wouldn’t try, but I made friends with her. She had one condition for her friendship and that I treat her as a boy. I can tell you it wasn’t easy. The greatest test came on the day we jumped into the net together. That body, those breasts, were a torment to me, but I kept my hands to myself. It paid off not now but years later.

The captain’s wife, or who I thought was his wife, was off limits to everyone. A part of the ship was roped off and she could often be seen there, sitting on a deck chair reading a book. There was no doubt what would happen if someone went near her without the captain’s permission. The crew would often tell terrible stories of those who disobeyed. She looked exquisite, and I wondered how I could talk to her without getting strung up from the yard arm.

I was left to myself on the ship. Uncle Bertie spent all of his time in the cabin pouring over reams of pages regarding his project, and mother spent all her time with the handsome first mate. In fact, I caught her coming out of his cabin a few times during the voyage. I would spend many hours down in the crew’s mess, chatting with the crew. They were a rough lot, but cheery and hospitable. I had a few tots of rum and they taught me the delights of a tobacco pipe.

There were many stories of shore leave and shady women. These pleasant times sometimes lasted till midnight. Then I would wander about the decks of the ship, smoking my pipe. On one such night, I was standing near the roped off area when I heard a ‘Psst’. I jumped and turned around to stare into the eyes of the captain’s wife.

“How old are you?” she whispered.

Puzzled, I said," Fifteen."

“Oh thank god, you 're just a boy, father won’t be as upset.” she said.

Ignoring the implied insult I said, “ but aren’t you the Captain’s Wife.”

“Oh heavens no. I am his daughter, step-daughter.” she answered.

“Well, how old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“And why wouldn’t your father be upset.”

“He thinks every man on this ship wants to bed me but you 're only a boy.”

I took a deep suck on my pipe, trying to decide if I should ignore the insult, but before I could she lifted the rope and said, “Come on, talk with me.”

With a dreadfull fealing, I crawled under the rope and we sat down together, out of sight.

“Whats your name,” I asked.

“Cynthia and yours?”

“Charles. Why are you living this life?” I asked.

“My mother died when I was fifteen and still at school. It was a school in France and when I turned seventeen, I had nowhere to go. I have no relatives other than my step-father, so he took me along with him. I love my step-father but this life is driving me mad.”

Thereafter we met at night and the friendship deepened till on a moonless night, when only the stars lit the sky, we kissed. Standing right behind us was her step-father.

It took a large bundle of money and an impassioned plea from my mother to stop the Captain from putting me on a lifeboat and setting me adrift, but it freed Cynthia. Her step-fathers condition was that I would accompany her wherever she went on the ship and I would be responsible for her safety. I agreed.

Chapter 3

It was a heartbreaking time when we reached New York. Cynthia said that they were moving on from New York almost immediately and sailing down the coast to Mexico. Mother told me not to be so upset, as this was the best breakup possible. No one gets blamed and everyone feels good. She showed this by kissing her handsome first mate and strolled down the gangplank without a backward look.

We entered the noisy, bustling port of New York, and Uncle Bertie hauled a cab. He took us to a very luxurious hotel near a place called Times Square. Uncle Bertie hit the road running. He hired a function room and a small army of messenger boys to hand deliver his personnel invitations to one hundred rich Italian families and about twenty not so Italian ones. He then enlisted mother’s help to organise the function.

At first, mother refused, but he offered to double her allowance if she helped. Mother jumped in with both feet and proved more than capable. She organised the hotel staff, created the menu and instructed the kitchen staff, designed the table layout, and selected the wine. All but a few people declined the invitation. After all, it was free food and wine plus the chance to mix with the richest of families. Mother added a brilliant touch by greeting each guest in fluent Italian whether or not they could speak it.

Food and wine were served, and when everyone was comfortable, fed, and relaxed, Uncle Bertie began his pitch. Regardless of his dubious appearance, he was a brilliant speaker. His consortium had purchased a large parcel of land somewhere on the southern Italian coast. The idea was to build forty high class, luxurious Villas, grouped around the bay and sell these to investors overseas. The consortium, for a juicy fee, would manage the villas, rent them out to locals or other Europeans at a tidy profit or people could purchase shares in the investment.

At the end of the evening the three of us sat round a table drinking the wine and eating the left over food.

“How much did you make Bertie?” asked mother. “

“Twelve thousand dollars in cheques and fifty expressions of interest.”

“How much do you need to make?” She enquired.

“Target is two hundred thousand, but I need a minimum of one hundred thousand to start the next phase of the project.”

I could almost see pound signs appear in mother’s eyes.

Chapter 4

The next day Uncle Bertie payed the bill, and we headed out to the next city on the list, but there was a slight hiccup when we arrived. There was no function room at the hotel for Uncle Bernie to conduct his talk, and it took some time to find a suitable venue. During this time, mother vanished.

“Don’t worry about your mother, boy,” said Uncle Bertie. "She does that. She eventually turns up, usually at a rather inconvenient time."

It was strange, I thought, that I could go for months and not think about seeing her but when she is around, I worry as soon as she’s gone for a couple of days and after a week I was frantic.

“All right boy, all right, “ said Uncle Bertie irritated by the difficulty in finding a venue, “try the police stations.”

“Police stations!” I exclaimed, “why not the hospital’s. “

“Because it’s my sister we’re concerned about. Trust me, police stations are the best bet.”

I visited each precinct, one by one, till I came to a dilapidated one in an dilapidated suburb. Behind the desk was a fat desk sergeant. He took one look at me and said in a broad Irish brogue.

“Wot can I be doing for you, sonny?”

“I’m looking for my mother who has gone missing,” I said.

He looked at me and said, “ Would she have brown hair, about five foot five, around forty and sound just like you.”

“Yes, yes that sounds like her.”

Heaving himself up off the desk he said, “ We have a woman that has been arrested for soliciting money for sex.”

“Impossible,” I exclaimed. “My mother would never do such a thing. “

The fat sergeant shrugged his shoulders as he led me to the cells.

“She was arrested, drunk and naked in a brothel. A man was in the room with her.”

He swung the cell door open and there was mother. She was dressed in a semitransparent fur lined night gown, naked underneath. Her hair was an absolute mess, her cheeks all tear stained, and her lipstick smeared all around her mouth.

“Charlie, Charlie,” she cried, “ I want to go home to London. I want out of this horrible country. “

“You must let her go, sergeant,” I pleaded.

Shoving mother back in the cell, he slammed shut the cell door.

“Bail is set at fifty dollars. The only way she is going anywhere is if you cough up the bail.”

I rushed to get Uncle Bertie, and we raced back to the police station.

“All right, Mavis. What happened?” he asked.

“Oh Bertie, I didn’t think I was so naïve. I met a charming gentle man who invited me to a party. Once there, I drank too much and blacked out, then I woke up, naked with a man about to do horrible things to me. Before he had a chance, the police raided the place and dragged me away. I just had time to grab this night gown.”

“Charlie has brought you some clothes and things to fix yourself up. I will fix the sergeant.”

Once at the desk he said to the sergeant, “ Sergeant, this has all been a great mistake. My sister would never sell herself for sex... “

“She enjoys giving it away for free,” I said, thinking I was being helpful. A swift kick from uncle told me different.

“Here is my sister’s passport. You can see she is Lady Mavis Hester and quite wealthy in her own right. The thought of selling herself for sex is therefore quite ridiculous as she has no need of the money.”

“Mister, she could be Lady Doris of the Bull and Cow for all I know, but I know who would. Daphne, come out here,” he yelled to somebody in the back room.

A little woman came out and said, “what do you want, Flynn.”

“Daphne here is an expert on the English. She dotes over them and the royal family. She would know who this lady is.”

Daphne darted into the back room and came out with a gigantic volume of who’s who of the British aristocracy.

Leafing through the book, she said, “Ah yes. Lady Mavis Hester, one hundred and eighty-nine in line for the throne and also quite wealthy. See they’ve even got a photo of her.”

They had indeed, and it was a very good one.

“Well, never let it be said I mistreat British royalty, even though I’m Irish. Constable Smith, release the woman.”

We took mother back to the hotel, gave her a very large brandy and put her to bed. She never strayed from our side again.

Uncle got a venue and mother recovered enough to do an excellent job of running it. Uncle picked up forty thousand in cash and another fifty expressions of interest.

We again travelled to the next city and uncle prepared for another seminar but ran into a problem with an official from the city council, one of the sheriff’s officers.

“ Ahem, Mr Carter, Bertie Carter? “ he asked.

“How can I help you, dear man,” uncle Bertie replied.

“This is a delightful party you are putting on. Is it a private function?” he asked.

“It is, I am raising funds for an exciting project in Italy,” replied Uncle Bertie.

*Are you now, “said Officer Brown,” and do you have all the correct permits."

This threw Uncle Bertie off balance and he fumbled through his brief case so I stepped in and said, “Uncle Bernie checked with the hotel manager. As the venue is being held on private premises none are required.”

“Quite so, quite so but what about insurance.”

That stumped me.

“What do I need insurance for?” asked uncle.

“Oh in case there’s a fire, somebody has a nasty accident just outside the hotel, the council in there wisdom declared the hotel dangerous, outbreak of cholera. Many strange things like that.”

“And... Umm... How much would this instance cost me.”

“Oh, I think five hundred should do it. Look, why don’t I come back tomorrow so you can think about it. OK?”

Officer Brown strode away, and Uncle Bertie immediately sought the hotel manager.

“Insurance, nonsense the hotel’s insurance covers it all. Who told you this?” the manager asked.

“Someone called Officer Brown.”

“Ah right. Officer brown. He runs a little protection racket. Targets people like you. Most of the council has little bits of side business like that. It’s best to pay because he can screw things up for you.”

Uncle Bertie thanked him, then turned to me. “Now’s your chance to do your bit, my boy. When he comes to be paid, I want you to follow him and report to me everything, and I mean everything, he does. Understand.”

Officer brown returned, collected his money and left. I never lost him. He visited many establishments. Some were brothels, some illegal casinos and other buildings I couldn’t make out. He never stayed long enough to take part in any of the activities. All except one house.

He stayed there till eleven in the evening, then went straight home. One night I crept up to the window. I observed an attractive woman inside and they were counting money on the table, dividing it into two piles. When they were finished, each one took a pile, then they became intimate. I left them as I had an idea. I went to the officer’s home and knocked on the door. I asked the woman there if I could speak to officer brown.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “ but officer brown is on duty at the moment. He will be home at eleven thirty. “

Officer brown was cheating on his wife. Uncle would be delighted.

“Do you know the name of the mistress?” he asked.

“Miss Campbell,” I answered.

He grabbed two invitations and wrote on each.

“Give these to each of the women but make sure Officer Brown doesn’t see you.”

On the day of the seminar, Officer Brown and his wife turned up. They were greeted by mother and conducted to their table. Shortly after Miss Campbell arrived and when she saw which table she was going to sit at, she baulked.

“Is there another table I could sit at, please?”

“In so sorry,” replied mother, “but all seats are booked

She sat Miss Campbell on the other side of an uneasy Officer Brown. I waited till the meal was over, but before Uncle Bertie started his speech, I tapped Officer Brown on the shoulder and told him someone wishes to speak to him in the foyer. Once outside, I guided him into the gent’s washroom.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

“Officer brown,” I said, “ I would like to offer you some insurance by my uncle.”

“What are you up to.?” he snorted.

“He is offering to ensure that the entire hall, and your wife, does not find out about your mistress, Miss Campbell, and that you split your ‘insurance premiums’ with her.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” he replied." I would have him run out of town. “

“Oh, I don’t think it would be him that’s run out of town. I know you have dealings with about a dozen of these men and more I don’t know about. I bet they all would be pleased to see you run out of town, never mind about your wife.”

Officer brown turned pale and asked, “How much?”

“I have been allowed to give you the special price of five thousand dollars.”

“Five thousand!” He exclaimed, “ that’s ten times more than I got from him. “

“I guess it’s ten times more important.”

“Look, I don’t have that sort of money on me. I need time to get it.”

“We will take a cheque now, Officer Brown. After all, a bounced cheque is worse that adultery.”

“OK, OK,” he said, reaching for his cheque book.

When the seminar finished, uncle Bertie totaled it all up.

“Sixty-eight thousand in deposits and one hundred and twenty expressions of interest plus five thousand towards expenses courtesy of Officer Brown.”

We packed up and headed for Washington, the capital.

“It’s not that I am expecting a lot of money here but there are lots of ambassadors that could give me letters of introduction to influential people in there country.”

Uncle Bertie was a global thinker, but it turned out to be a dismal failure. Not only did we make only eight thousand dollars, but he did not receive a single letter of introduction. The ambassadors passed the invitation to some subordinates in need of a good feed with the excuse that they had important state function to attend to. The only ambassador to turn up was the British ambassador who knew Lady Mavis and wanted to renew her acquaintance, which he did.

We tried a few more East coast cities, but the takings were disappointing so uncle

Chapter 5

Bertie decided to try the West coast and we headed for San Francisco.

As soon as we arrived in San Francisco, we got to work setting up the venue. The place was rolling in money, and Uncle Bertie was determined to get his share.

All three of us worked night and day to get everything ready till one afternoon when uncle and I were examining the table layout a street urchin approached us and said, “Hoy, you Bertie.”

Uncle Bertie looked at the urchin and said, “Yes, I am Bertie Carter.”

“Ere,” the urchin said, “some geezer gave me a dollar to give this note to you.”

Uncle Bertie took it, read it, then handed it to me.

It said, “Dear sir,

I hope you are having a good day. We have kidnapped your sister and if you don’t give us two hundred thousand dollars, we will dispose of her body in the Pacific ocean.

Thank you.

PS please wait for instructions “

“Have you seen your mother around,” Uncle Bertie said.

“No. Not since this morning.”

“Damn, the silly woman has got herself kidnapped. I doubt she has wandered off like last time, so I would say somebody has snatched her. I got too much to do, Charlie, so question every one to track her movements.”

“But uncle,” I said, “shouldn’t we go to the police.”

“We’ll call the police when I’m ready to call the police, now get a move on.”

I questioned everyone that mother worked with till I found a young Negro girl who said she hailed a cab to take her to the drapery store. According to the girl, there was a problem with the drapes but when I enquired, the draper denied any problem or requested a meeting. In fact, the doorman at the drapes said that there had been no cabs that day. As luck would have it, I found a newspaper boy who was standing on the corner that day.

“Yer, Guv,” he said, “I sor a cab pick the woman up. Funny thing though, the cab had been waiting on the corner for half an hour and knocked back three rides then this darky girl came out and called to it even though there was two nearer.”

When I reported this to Uncle Bertie, he said, get Joshua and grill the girl. Our party had grown since we landed in New York and uncle had collected a little group of people which he took with him. Joshua, a negro, was one of them. Uncle Bertie used him to go into the unsavoury parts of the town for reasons I could never find out.

Under Joshua’s questioning, the poor girl admitted she was offered ten dollars if she were to direct mother into that cab. She did not know why. She gave a description to Joshua of the man, which was captured by an artist at Uncle Bertie’s suggestion and also described the cab, which had the name Hanson and sons on it.

“Joshua, you search the bars and brothels for this man. Charlie, you track down the cab.”

I had some good luck there. There was a company called Hanson and sons and the owner recalled making this cab. The reason was that it was the only one, as he doesn’t make horse carriages, preferring to stick to wagons. They said Charlie was the name of the man who bought it, but when I tracked him down, he informed me he had sold the cab as he was eighty years old and past it.

“Funny fella,” he said. “I offered him my client list, but he wasn’t interested. Would have been valuable that client list.”

“Do you know his name?” I asked.

“Smith, or something like that. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t his real name, but he paid cash so I didn’t care but I can tell you where we delivered the cab.”

I was delighted and got the address, then hurried back to Uncle Bertie. Joshua had drawn a blank. Uncle Bertie said that they had sent a second note with instructions and a dead line.

“We have three days to find her. Charlie, take Joshua to the address and see if you can find anything.”

We reached what appeared to be an abandoned inn. The building was in very poor condition with all the windows broken. It had a walled courtyard, and the gates were hanging from broken hinges. Inside the courtyard stood the cab with the horses harnessed to it, as if ready to leave. I crept over to the cab and peered inside, then I spotted the handkerchief jammed down the side of the seat. I retrieved it and spotted the monogram, ‘MH’. It was mother’s.

Meanwhile Joshua had crept up to a window and looked inside.

“There’s two men inside,” he reported to me, “and one fits the description of the man we are looking for but no sign of your mother. There planning to get her in the cab. I don’t think they are going to let her go alive.”

I looked around and spotted an old pile of coal. I found a small bag and filled it.

“Got and get uncle,” I said to Joshua, “tell him to follow the trail of coal.”

I clambered into the luggage space with the bag of coal and Joshua hurried off. Soon after, the two men came out and climbed into the cab. As it travelled down the road, I dropped bits of coal behind it. I dropped the last bit as it turned into a gate and travelled up to a large stone cottage. They hitched the horses and went into the cottage. I slipped out and went to the window. I was about to look in when I felt a large thud on the back of my head and everything went black.

As I woke up, I heard my mother’s voice. “Oh Charles, Charles. Speak to me. Are you all right?”

Never in my life have I been so glad to see my mother.

“Where am I? What happened?” I asked.

“Somebody hit you on the head, dear, and you 're with me in a cellar somewhere.”

Just then, the door swung open and three men entered.

“What do we do with him then?” asked one man.

“Dump him in the Pacific with her. Tie them up and let’s get out of here.”

They tied our hands and feet up, gagged us, then we were carried out to the carriage. The men climbed on and left, with one man joining us in the cab with a rifle, which he propped up against the seat. I prayed uncle Bertie would get here soon, but he was nowhere to be seen.

We had travelled about half an hour when I raised my head to look at mother expecting to see a terrified look in her eyes. I was surprised to finding her winking at me and smiling. Just as the carriage swung around a corner, mother’s hands sprung free. She gave the kidnapper a tremendous push, and he flew out of the carriage. I do not think he landed well. She sprang to my side and in record time untied my hands.

Grabbing the rifle, she ordered me to untie her feet, then fired one shot through the roof. There was a single shout from the rider’s seat and a stream of obscene language from mother’s mouth which, translated, said, “Stop this carriage now out or I will fill your backside full of bullets.”

The carriage came to a rapid stop and mother jumped out, pointing the rifle at the kidnappers.

“Get down,” she ordered, “ and Charles here will tie you up. Make one wrong move and I will kill you. I am an excellent shot with rifles. “

She was.

Once they were tied up mother got into the carriage to guard and I drove the carriage back to the cottage where uncle Bertie and Joshua were waiting for us.

Chapter 6

In the end, everything worked out. Uncle Bertie got his money back, and the seminar was an enormous success earning uncle a cool one hundred thousand in deposits and two hundred referrals.

Mother kept nagging Uncle Bertie to get out of this uncivilised country and, since Uncle Bertie had exceeded his target, he agreed but wanted to return via New York, which meant a train trip. Mother was opposed to this.

“That awful thing is noisy and dirty. The beds are hard and uncomfortable and the food is awful. No, we go by sea. I have already organised three cabins on a steamer leaving for London in two weeks.”

Since uncle Bertie was in a good mood, he agreed to the proposal but he felt that taking a train to New York then a sailing ship to London was a lot safer.

I was most impressed by the stream ship. It was a far cry from the old schooner that carried us across the Atlantic. It was much larger, with two stacks. Everywhere was carpeted and our cabins luxurious and spacious The cabin crew were professional and courteous, the food excellent and the entertainment splendid. The only thing I regretted was not being able to talk to the crew.

The sea journey took us down the Californian coast to Mexico, then on to Panama and through the new Panama canal. I thought mother had done us all proud till we hit the Caribbean and ran into a hurricane.

I had never been in anything with so much fury and we all ended up in a life boat with two children and two women and two men. The poor kids, a brother and sister, had lost their parents and mother made it her duty to look after them and adopted them.

Mother ignored uncle’s barbed comments about the safety of trains and organised us all in our duties on the life craft.

“We go that way,” she ordered, pointing west

“and why should we go that way and not that way,” uncle said, pointing East.

“Because that way, you idiot, is the Atlantic ocean. This way,” pointing West, "we will hit land."

As uncle was pretty useless at anything physical, he was put in charge of the rudder and giving instructions to the oarsmen. Mother had worked out a roster to work the oars.

Everything was comfy so far. The weather was wonderful and the seas calm. The life craft was built for more people than us, so we had plenty of rations. I was having a delightful time chatting to one of the woman who was young and quite attractive when mother gave a groan and said we’re heading into a storm. I turned around and looked at a bank of thick black clouds with flashes of lightning.

Mother took immediate control and told everyone to get their lifejackets on and instructed me to get enough cord from the lifeboat kit for each person to tie themselves to the boat. This was to prevent us from floating away if we fall out the boat. She also took control of the rudder and told the men to man the oars and the two women to share one oar. The children were bundled at mother’s feet and Uncle Bertie was given the job of bailing out the boat and in this way we headed into the storm.

The wind rose to a howl, and the rain pelted down on top of us as we starting rowing then we climbed a sudden sharp wave and as we flipped over the top the sudden jolt shot Lucy, one of the children, out of the boat. Undaunted, mother asked if she was floating with her head above water. One man said yes and mother replied, hold on were coming up to a big one and fired out a commands to keep us lined up with the wave. It would be a disaster if we ended up side on. The boat went into a step incline. We went on, going forward, and all our strength was used up in just keeping us in line. I looked up in amazement as I looked down on the water and bracing myself with my feet to stop falling then we tipped over the top of the wave and fell backwards.

We scrambled back into place as the boat raced down the back slope of the wave.

“The girl,” mother shouted, “ is she still afloat?”

I peered through the gloom and spotted the little head .

“Yes,” I yelled.

“Right, get ready for the next one and bail for your life Bertie.”

We were prepared now and climbed over the wave then the next one which was smaller till we were floating with just the rain pelting down on top of us. Mother pulled Lucy in and hauled her out of the water coughing and spluttering but otherwise alright.

For the rest of the day we all huddled under a tarpaulin wet and miserable and the morning sun beat down on us. We sat steaming ánd miserable in our saturated clothes. Sandra, the young woman, said, “if we weren’t such ladies and gentlemen we would strip off and dry ourselves.”

One man jumped up and announced he had an idea. He stuck two oars, upright, in the rowlocks and tied the tarpaulin between the oars.

“Right,” he said, “ladies to the front, blokes to the back.”

As each group stripped off, there was much giggling and a robust exchange of comments till there was ladies undergarment and men’s longjohns flying in the breeze.

For most of the day both groups dried off in the sun and fell fast asleep until one child asked what that big boat with the smoke coming out of it was doing. I stood up and stared at a steamer whose deck was packed with sailors, some with telescopes, waving, yelling and cheering at us. Everyone, especially the women, rushed to get dressed and just as we were doing up the last buttons the ship’s tender chugged up alongside.

“Ahoy there,” a sailor yelled, “are you from the SS Luxury that sank some weeks ago.”

We yelled we were and soon was hauled aboard the tender.

The shipping company got us to New York and onto a sailing schooner back to England with no further incidents. I went back to school and on to university.

That year wasn’t my finest year, but it was one where I found untapped strengths within me and saw some wonderful qualities in my mother.

Uncle Bertie’s project was quite successful, and he moved into one villa and managed the resort. He also signed over control of mother’s trust to mother. He reasoned that anybody that can save his life can manage their own money. Mother went back to her estate and adopted the two children then raised them to be well-mannered, successful people to my amazement. Oh and I married the cabin boy.

My trip to America

by

Kenneth Allan

Chapter 1

“Your mother has come to collect you, Heston,” said the headmaster. That was a surprise, I thought. I only ever saw my mother three times a year, birthdays, holidays and Christmas. When I was six, she explained it to me as I was packed onto the train to boarding school.

“I’m quite fond of you, Charles, but your presence is quite inconvenient. I’m having to spend money on Nannies and nurses and I’m tired of explaining you to my men friends when they stay over.”

This explanation didn’t seem to bother me much as my mother was never in my life anyway, but I also knew, in her own strange way, that she loved me and that was enough.

I had no problems at boarding school as I was big and strong enough to handle bullies and any master that wanted to use me for some out of hour’s recreation was told that I would blast his name all over the local newspaper.

“Matron has packed your bags and your mother is waiting in the limousine,” said the headmaster.

I stood on the steps of the school and looked at my mother. She was, as always, the picture of elegance, a genuine lady of blue blood. I opened the door and got inside.

“Charles, “ she announced, “how perfectly lovely to see you.”

“What’s up, mother?” I asked.

“Uncle Bertie has turned up on my doorstep.”

Ah, Uncle Bertie, that explained everything. Uncle Bertie is my mother’s brother. When my grandfather died, he divided his wealth between Uncle Bertie and mother, but he was under no illusion about mother’s attitude to money. He put her share into a trust in perpetuity or until Uncle Bertie died. Mother was paid a handsome allowance from the trust, which she spent with ease.

Uncle Bertie was immune to all the pleadings from mother about more money, but I was his favorite, his only nephew, and I could twist him around my little finger so whenever mother needed money she rolled me out in front of him.

“Broke are you, mother?” I asked.

“I’m not, as a matter of fact. Uncle Bertie wants to speak to you and what Uncle Bertie wants Uncle Bertie gets.”

I was disappointed. I always got a bonus when I screwed money out of Uncle Bertie for mum.

Uncle Bertie was waiting for us in the garden, and he arose when we arrived. The only way to describe Uncle Bertie was that he was like a snowman, except he wasn’t white. His body comprised two blobs. A large one for his body and a smaller one for his head. He had two stick-like legs and arms. His eyes were little spots of black and a red nose like a carrot. According to several doctors, he would soon die of many diseases associated with obesity, but he was still going strong. There was no chance he was going to depart soon, much to my mother’s disappointment.

“Charles, my boy. You get bigger each time I see you. Come, give me a hug.”

Hugging Uncle Bertie was performed more in theory than practice. My arms were nowhere near big enough for his chest.

“Hi Uncle Bertie. What are you doing here?”

“I have come, my boy, to launch you into your new career.

“but uncle,“ I said, “I’ve still got two years of school left then I’m going to university.”

“Poo, fiddlesticks. By fourteen I was out in the world making my fortune.” Uncle Bertie said.

“Rubbish,” replied mother, “at fourteen daddy kicked you out when he caught you with the scullery maid.”

“And that was the making of me. I have only ever looked up since then.”

“Double rubbish,” laughed mother, “you returned begging father to forgive you. You hadn’t eaten in two days and you were sleeping in the boathouse.”

Uncle Bertie’s demeanor changed as he said, “I’d like to talk to you about last month’s accounts.”

Mother shut up.

“Charles, I am about to embark on a long sea voyage to the Americas. The eastern states to be exact, then I catch a train to West Coast. I will mix with the elite and the rich. I need a fit young man as my companion. One that is intelligent and cultured. One that I can introduce into the society and will look after my back.”

Before I could answer mother said, "I’m afraid that will not be possible without my permission however... “

“Here we go,” said Uncle Bertie.

“If I was there to supervise him, I might allow it.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged, my dear.”

Later that night I asked mother why she wanted to come along. I was sure she didn’t care what I did.

“I have no intention of letting Bertie loose amongst those New York women. One might decide to marry him then where would we be.”

Chapter 2

The three of us stood on the dock, staring at the ship in front of us.

“Are you sure this is the right ship, Bertie,” asked my mother.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “I’ve had to be careful with my money. It would be all right for the boy and I but you insisted on coming along.”

Mother stormed up the gangplank and insisted on being taken to her cabin. She was rewarded with a blank stare. After another bout of shouting, an officer turned up.

“Excuse me, madam, but you 're making a lot of noise,” a very handsome young man in a uniform said.

Mother turned to him.

“You appear to be, sir, a gentleman,” said mother smiling at him with her eyes.

“Alas, I’m not ma’am. I am a convicted thief and have fathered four bastard children but, anyway, how can I help you.”

“Could you show us to our cabin please, then perhaps you could give me a tour of the ship?”

I did not see mother again until just before bedtime when she turned up, in her nightclothes, pale as a ghost.

“What’s up, mother?” I asked.

“Let me in and get me a drink. Bertie must have some rum somewhere.”

I got her a decent shot of rum, which she disposed of.

“I’ve just been to the toilet. Have you been yet, of course not. There’s eight seats, four on each side, side by side. There no dividing walls or anything for privacy. I was desperate, but I had no choice and the room was empty, so I sat down. I was right in the middle of it when two men came in. They took no notice of me and pulled there pants down and sat. One right next to me. Then they started talking about their next shore leave when they reach New York amongst all the vulgar noises going on. Then they finished, and without cleaning themselves, got up and left. I got out just as another man came in. Charles, I’m not going to the toilet again unless you come with me and guard the door.”

We weren’t the only passengers on the ship. There was one solitary man, a very dark, broody person, and a young married couple. Everyone stayed in their cabins, coming up on deck for fresh air. I, however, explored the ship. The crew was a rough lot, but peaceful. To my surprise, I found there were other women on board. There was the cook and her daughter, a girl disguised as a cabin boy and the captain’s wife, I think.

The cook was my favourite. She was a round, cheery person with rosy cheeks and a deep, honest laugh. She had been a ship’s cook since she was a girl and, no, she has never been married. Her daughter was the exact opposite. Like her father, said the cook, the miserable bastard. She was thin, serious and pale. She refused to talk to me and scurried in to the back of the kitchen. Wot she needs is a good rogering, said her mother, looking meaningfully at me. I scurried back to the cabin.

I never realised the cabin boy was a girl till I watched the crew jump in the net. When the conditions are right, they put down a net behind the ship and anyone can jump in to get an overdue bath. I was rather stunned to see this naked woman jump in with the rest of the crew.

“Who is that,” I asked, pointing at the naked woman.

“That’s the cabin-boy, but don’t touch her. The last one that tried lost his testicles.”

I assured him I wouldn’t try, but I made friends with her. She had one condition for her friendship and that I treat her as a boy. I can tell you it wasn’t easy. The greatest test came on the day we jumped into the net together. That body, those breasts, were a torment to me, but I kept my hands to myself. It paid off not now but years later.

The captain’s wife, or who I thought was his wife, was off limits to everyone. A part of the ship was roped off and she could often be seen there, sitting on a deck chair reading a book. There was no doubt what would happen if someone went near her without the captain’s permission. The crew would often tell terrible stories of those who disobeyed. She looked exquisite, and I wondered how I could talk to her without getting strung up from the yard arm.

I was left to myself on the ship. Uncle Bertie spent all of his time in the cabin pouring over reams of pages regarding his project, and mother spent all her time with the handsome first mate. In fact, I caught her coming out of his cabin a few times during the voyage. I would spend many hours down in the crew’s mess, chatting with the crew. They were a rough lot, but cheery and hospitable. I had a few tots of rum and they taught me the delights of a tobacco pipe.

There were many stories of shore leave and shady women. These pleasant times sometimes lasted till midnight. Then I would wander about the decks of the ship, smoking my pipe. On one such night, I was standing near the roped off area when I heard a ‘Psst’. I jumped and turned around to stare into the eyes of the captain’s wife.

“How old are you?” she whispered.

Puzzled, I said," Fifteen."

“Oh thank god, you 're just a boy, father won’t be as upset.” she said.

Ignoring the implied insult I said, “ but aren’t you the Captain’s Wife.”

“Oh heavens no. I am his daughter, step-daughter.” she answered.

“Well, how old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“And why wouldn’t your father be upset.”

“He thinks every man on this ship wants to bed me but you 're only a boy.”

I took a deep suck on my pipe, trying to decide if I should ignore the insult, but before I could she lifted the rope and said, “Come on, talk with me.”

With a dreadfull fealing, I crawled under the rope and we sat down together, out of sight.

“Whats your name,” I asked.

“Cynthia and yours?”

“Charles. Why are you living this life?” I asked.

“My mother died when I was fifteen and still at school. It was a school in France and when I turned seventeen, I had nowhere to go. I have no relatives other than my step-father, so he took me along with him. I love my step-father but this life is driving me mad.”

Thereafter we met at night and the friendship deepened till on a moonless night, when only the stars lit the sky, we kissed. Standing right behind us was her step-father.

It took a large bundle of money and an impassioned plea from my mother to stop the Captain from putting me on a lifeboat and setting me adrift, but it freed Cynthia. Her step-fathers condition was that I would accompany her wherever she went on the ship and I would be responsible for her safety. I agreed.

Chapter 3

It was a heartbreaking time when we reached New York. Cynthia said that they were moving on from New York almost immediately and sailing down the coast to Mexico. Mother told me not to be so upset, as this was the best breakup possible. No one gets blamed and everyone feels good. She showed this by kissing her handsome first mate and strolled down the gangplank without a backward look.

We entered the noisy, bustling port of New York, and Uncle Bertie hauled a cab. He took us to a very luxurious hotel near a place called Times Square. Uncle Bertie hit the road running. He hired a function room and a small army of messenger boys to hand deliver his personnel invitations to one hundred rich Italian families and about twenty not so Italian ones. He then enlisted mother’s help to organise the function.

At first, mother refused, but he offered to double her allowance if she helped. Mother jumped in with both feet and proved more than capable. She organised the hotel staff, created the menu and instructed the kitchen staff, designed the table layout, and selected the wine. All but a few people declined the invitation. After all, it was free food and wine plus the chance to mix with the richest of families. Mother added a brilliant touch by greeting each guest in fluent Italian whether or not they could speak it.

Food and wine were served, and when everyone was comfortable, fed, and relaxed, Uncle Bertie began his pitch. Regardless of his dubious appearance, he was a brilliant speaker. His consortium had purchased a large parcel of land somewhere on the southern Italian coast. The idea was to build forty high class, luxurious Villas, grouped around the bay and sell these to investors overseas. The consortium, for a juicy fee, would manage the villas, rent them out to locals or other Europeans at a tidy profit or people could purchase shares in the investment.

At the end of the evening the three of us sat round a table drinking the wine and eating the left over food.

“How much did you make Bertie?” asked mother. “

“Twelve thousand dollars in cheques and fifty expressions of interest.”

“How much do you need to make?” She enquired.

“Target is two hundred thousand, but I need a minimum of one hundred thousand to start the next phase of the project.”

I could almost see pound signs appear in mother’s eyes.

Chapter 4

The next day Uncle Bertie payed the bill, and we headed out to the next city on the list, but there was a slight hiccup when we arrived. There was no function room at the hotel for Uncle Bernie to conduct his talk, and it took some time to find a suitable venue. During this time, mother vanished.

“Don’t worry about your mother, boy,” said Uncle Bertie. "She does that. She eventually turns up, usually at a rather inconvenient time."

It was strange, I thought, that I could go for months and not think about seeing her but when she is around, I worry as soon as she’s gone for a couple of days and after a week I was frantic.

“All right boy, all right, “ said Uncle Bertie irritated by the difficulty in finding a venue, “try the police stations.”

“Police stations!” I exclaimed, “why not the hospital’s. “

“Because it’s my sister we’re concerned about. Trust me, police stations are the best bet.”

I visited each precinct, one by one, till I came to a dilapidated one in an dilapidated suburb. Behind the desk was a fat desk sergeant. He took one look at me and said in a broad Irish brogue.

“Wot can I be doing for you, sonny?”

“I’m looking for my mother who has gone missing,” I said.

He looked at me and said, “ Would she have brown hair, about five foot five, around forty and sound just like you.”

“Yes, yes that sounds like her.”

Heaving himself up off the desk he said, “ We have a woman that has been arrested for soliciting money for sex.”

“Impossible,” I exclaimed. “My mother would never do such a thing. “

The fat sergeant shrugged his shoulders as he led me to the cells.

“She was arrested, drunk and naked in a brothel. A man was in the room with her.”

He swung the cell door open and there was mother. She was dressed in a semitransparent fur lined night gown, naked underneath. Her hair was an absolute mess, her cheeks all tear stained, and her lipstick smeared all around her mouth.

“Charlie, Charlie,” she cried, “ I want to go home to London. I want out of this horrible country. “

“You must let her go, sergeant,” I pleaded.

Shoving mother back in the cell, he slammed shut the cell door.

“Bail is set at fifty dollars. The only way she is going anywhere is if you cough up the bail.”

I rushed to get Uncle Bertie, and we raced back to the police station.

“All right, Mavis. What happened?” he asked.

“Oh Bertie, I didn’t think I was so naïve. I met a charming gentle man who invited me to a party. Once there, I drank too much and blacked out, then I woke up, naked with a man about to do horrible things to me. Before he had a chance, the police raided the place and dragged me away. I just had time to grab this night gown.”

“Charlie has brought you some clothes and things to fix yourself up. I will fix the sergeant.”

Once at the desk he said to the sergeant, “ Sergeant, this has all been a great mistake. My sister would never sell herself for sex... “

“She enjoys giving it away for free,” I said, thinking I was being helpful. A swift kick from uncle told me different.

“Here is my sister’s passport. You can see she is Lady Mavis Hester and quite wealthy in her own right. The thought of selling herself for sex is therefore quite ridiculous as she has no need of the money.”

“Mister, she could be Lady Doris of the Bull and Cow for all I know, but I know who would. Daphne, come out here,” he yelled to somebody in the back room.

A little woman came out and said, “what do you want, Flynn.”

“Daphne here is an expert on the English. She dotes over them and the royal family. She would know who this lady is.”

Daphne darted into the back room and came out with a gigantic volume of who’s who of the British aristocracy.

Leafing through the book, she said, “Ah yes. Lady Mavis Hester, one hundred and eighty-nine in line for the throne and also quite wealthy. See they’ve even got a photo of her.”

They had indeed, and it was a very good one.

“Well, never let it be said I mistreat British royalty, even though I’m Irish. Constable Smith, release the woman.”

We took mother back to the hotel, gave her a very large brandy and put her to bed. She never strayed from our side again.

Uncle got a venue and mother recovered enough to do an excellent job of running it. Uncle picked up forty thousand in cash and another fifty expressions of interest.

We again travelled to the next city and uncle prepared for another seminar but ran into a problem with an official from the city council, one of the sheriff’s officers.

“ Ahem, Mr Carter, Bertie Carter? “ he asked.

“How can I help you, dear man,” uncle Bertie replied.

“This is a delightful party you are putting on. Is it a private function?” he asked.

“It is, I am raising funds for an exciting project in Italy,” replied Uncle Bertie.

*Are you now, “said Officer Brown,” and do you have all the correct permits."

This threw Uncle Bertie off balance and he fumbled through his brief case so I stepped in and said, “Uncle Bernie checked with the hotel manager. As the venue is being held on private premises none are required.”

“Quite so, quite so but what about insurance.”

That stumped me.

“What do I need insurance for?” asked uncle.

“Oh in case there’s a fire, somebody has a nasty accident just outside the hotel, the council in there wisdom declared the hotel dangerous, outbreak of cholera. Many strange things like that.”

“And... Umm... How much would this instance cost me.”

“Oh, I think five hundred should do it. Look, why don’t I come back tomorrow so you can think about it. OK?”

Officer Brown strode away, and Uncle Bertie immediately sought the hotel manager.

“Insurance, nonsense the hotel’s insurance covers it all. Who told you this?” the manager asked.

“Someone called Officer Brown.”

“Ah right. Officer brown. He runs a little protection racket. Targets people like you. Most of the council has little bits of side business like that. It’s best to pay because he can screw things up for you.”

Uncle Bertie thanked him, then turned to me. “Now’s your chance to do your bit, my boy. When he comes to be paid, I want you to follow him and report to me everything, and I mean everything, he does. Understand.”

Officer brown returned, collected his money and left. I never lost him. He visited many establishments. Some were brothels, some illegal casinos and other buildings I couldn’t make out. He never stayed long enough to take part in any of the activities. All except one house.

He stayed there till eleven in the evening, then went straight home. One night I crept up to the window. I observed an attractive woman inside and they were counting money on the table, dividing it into two piles. When they were finished, each one took a pile, then they became intimate. I left them as I had an idea. I went to the officer’s home and knocked on the door. I asked the woman there if I could speak to officer brown.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “ but officer brown is on duty at the moment. He will be home at eleven thirty. “

Officer brown was cheating on his wife. Uncle would be delighted.

“Do you know the name of the mistress?” he asked.

“Miss Campbell,” I answered.

He grabbed two invitations and wrote on each.

“Give these to each of the women but make sure Officer Brown doesn’t see you.”

On the day of the seminar, Officer Brown and his wife turned up. They were greeted by mother and conducted to their table. Shortly after Miss Campbell arrived and when she saw which table she was going to sit at, she baulked.

“Is there another table I could sit at, please?”

“In so sorry,” replied mother, “but all seats are booked

She sat Miss Campbell on the other side of an uneasy Officer Brown. I waited till the meal was over, but before Uncle Bertie started his speech, I tapped Officer Brown on the shoulder and told him someone wishes to speak to him in the foyer. Once outside, I guided him into the gent’s washroom.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

“Officer brown,” I said, “ I would like to offer you some insurance by my uncle.”

“What are you up to.?” he snorted.

“He is offering to ensure that the entire hall, and your wife, does not find out about your mistress, Miss Campbell, and that you split your ‘insurance premiums’ with her.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” he replied." I would have him run out of town. “

“Oh, I don’t think it would be him that’s run out of town. I know you have dealings with about a dozen of these men and more I don’t know about. I bet they all would be pleased to see you run out of town, never mind about your wife.”

Officer brown turned pale and asked, “How much?”

“I have been allowed to give you the special price of five thousand dollars.”

“Five thousand!” He exclaimed, “ that’s ten times more than I got from him. “

“I guess it’s ten times more important.”

“Look, I don’t have that sort of money on me. I need time to get it.”

“We will take a cheque now, Officer Brown. After all, a bounced cheque is worse that adultery.”

“OK, OK,” he said, reaching for his cheque book.

When the seminar finished, uncle Bertie totaled it all up.

“Sixty-eight thousand in deposits and one hundred and twenty expressions of interest plus five thousand towards expenses courtesy of Officer Brown.”

We packed up and headed for Washington, the capital.

“It’s not that I am expecting a lot of money here but there are lots of ambassadors that could give me letters of introduction to influential people in there country.”

Uncle Bertie was a global thinker, but it turned out to be a dismal failure. Not only did we make only eight thousand dollars, but he did not receive a single letter of introduction. The ambassadors passed the invitation to some subordinates in need of a good feed with the excuse that they had important state function to attend to. The only ambassador to turn up was the British ambassador who knew Lady Mavis and wanted to renew her acquaintance, which he did.

We tried a few more East coast cities, but the takings were disappointing so uncle

Chapter 5

Bertie decided to try the West coast and we headed for San Francisco.

As soon as we arrived in San Francisco, we got to work setting up the venue. The place was rolling in money, and Uncle Bertie was determined to get his share.

All three of us worked night and day to get everything ready till one afternoon when uncle and I were examining the table layout a street urchin approached us and said, “Hoy, you Bertie.”

Uncle Bertie looked at the urchin and said, “Yes, I am Bertie Carter.”

“Ere,” the urchin said, “some geezer gave me a dollar to give this note to you.”

Uncle Bertie took it, read it, then handed it to me.

It said, “Dear sir,

I hope you are having a good day. We have kidnapped your sister and if you don’t give us two hundred thousand dollars, we will dispose of her body in the Pacific ocean.

Thank you.

PS please wait for instructions “

“Have you seen your mother around,” Uncle Bertie said.

“No. Not since this morning.”

“Damn, the silly woman has got herself kidnapped. I doubt she has wandered off like last time, so I would say somebody has snatched her. I got too much to do, Charlie, so question every one to track her movements.”

“But uncle,” I said, “shouldn’t we go to the police.”

“We’ll call the police when I’m ready to call the police, now get a move on.”

I questioned everyone that mother worked with till I found a young Negro girl who said she hailed a cab to take her to the drapery store. According to the girl, there was a problem with the drapes but when I enquired, the draper denied any problem or requested a meeting. In fact, the doorman at the drapes said that there had been no cabs that day. As luck would have it, I found a newspaper boy who was standing on the corner that day.

“Yer, Guv,” he said, “I sor a cab pick the woman up. Funny thing though, the cab had been waiting on the corner for half an hour and knocked back three rides then this darky girl came out and called to it even though there was two nearer.”

When I reported this to Uncle Bertie, he said, get Joshua and grill the girl. Our party had grown since we landed in New York and uncle had collected a little group of people which he took with him. Joshua, a negro, was one of them. Uncle Bertie used him to go into the unsavoury parts of the town for reasons I could never find out.

Under Joshua’s questioning, the poor girl admitted she was offered ten dollars if she were to direct mother into that cab. She did not know why. She gave a description to Joshua of the man, which was captured by an artist at Uncle Bertie’s suggestion and also described the cab, which had the name Hanson and sons on it.

“Joshua, you search the bars and brothels for this man. Charlie, you track down the cab.”

I had some good luck there. There was a company called Hanson and sons and the owner recalled making this cab. The reason was that it was the only one, as he doesn’t make horse carriages, preferring to stick to wagons. They said Charlie was the name of the man who bought it, but when I tracked him down, he informed me he had sold the cab as he was eighty years old and past it.

“Funny fella,” he said. “I offered him my client list, but he wasn’t interested. Would have been valuable that client list.”

“Do you know his name?” I asked.

“Smith, or something like that. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t his real name, but he paid cash so I didn’t care but I can tell you where we delivered the cab.”

I was delighted and got the address, then hurried back to Uncle Bertie. Joshua had drawn a blank. Uncle Bertie said that they had sent a second note with instructions and a dead line.

“We have three days to find her. Charlie, take Joshua to the address and see if you can find anything.”

We reached what appeared to be an abandoned inn. The building was in very poor condition with all the windows broken. It had a walled courtyard, and the gates were hanging from broken hinges. Inside the courtyard stood the cab with the horses harnessed to it, as if ready to leave. I crept over to the cab and peered inside, then I spotted the handkerchief jammed down the side of the seat. I retrieved it and spotted the monogram, ‘MH’. It was mother’s.

Meanwhile Joshua had crept up to a window and looked inside.

“There’s two men inside,” he reported to me, “and one fits the description of the man we are looking for but no sign of your mother. There planning to get her in the cab. I don’t think they are going to let her go alive.”

I looked around and spotted an old pile of coal. I found a small bag and filled it.

“Got and get uncle,” I said to Joshua, “tell him to follow the trail of coal.”

I clambered into the luggage space with the bag of coal and Joshua hurried off. Soon after, the two men came out and climbed into the cab. As it travelled down the road, I dropped bits of coal behind it. I dropped the last bit as it turned into a gate and travelled up to a large stone cottage. They hitched the horses and went into the cottage. I slipped out and went to the window. I was about to look in when I felt a large thud on the back of my head and everything went black.

As I woke up, I heard my mother’s voice. “Oh Charles, Charles. Speak to me. Are you all right?”

Never in my life have I been so glad to see my mother.

“Where am I? What happened?” I asked.

“Somebody hit you on the head, dear, and you 're with me in a cellar somewhere.”

Just then, the door swung open and three men entered.

“What do we do with him then?” asked one man.

“Dump him in the Pacific with her. Tie them up and let’s get out of here.”

They tied our hands and feet up, gagged us, then we were carried out to the carriage. The men climbed on and left, with one man joining us in the cab with a rifle, which he propped up against the seat. I prayed uncle Bertie would get here soon, but he was nowhere to be seen.

We had travelled about half an hour when I raised my head to look at mother expecting to see a terrified look in her eyes. I was surprised to finding her winking at me and smiling. Just as the carriage swung around a corner, mother’s hands sprung free. She gave the kidnapper a tremendous push, and he flew out of the carriage. I do not think he landed well. She sprang to my side and in record time untied my hands.

Grabbing the rifle, she ordered me to untie her feet, then fired one shot through the roof. There was a single shout from the rider’s seat and a stream of obscene language from mother’s mouth which, translated, said, “Stop this carriage now out or I will fill your backside full of bullets.”

The carriage came to a rapid stop and mother jumped out, pointing the rifle at the kidnappers.

“Get down,” she ordered, “ and Charles here will tie you up. Make one wrong move and I will kill you. I am an excellent shot with rifles. “

She was.

Once they were tied up mother got into the carriage to guard and I drove the carriage back to the cottage where uncle Bertie and Joshua were waiting for us.

Chapter 6

In the end, everything worked out. Uncle Bertie got his money back, and the seminar was an enormous success earning uncle a cool one hundred thousand in deposits and two hundred referrals.

Mother kept nagging Uncle Bertie to get out of this uncivilised country and, since Uncle Bertie had exceeded his target, he agreed but wanted to return via New York, which meant a train trip. Mother was opposed to this.

“That awful thing is noisy and dirty. The beds are hard and uncomfortable and the food is awful. No, we go by sea. I have already organised three cabins on a steamer leaving for London in two weeks.”

Since uncle Bertie was in a good mood, he agreed to the proposal but he felt that taking a train to New York then a sailing ship to London was a lot safer.

I was most impressed by the stream ship. It was a far cry from the old schooner that carried us across the Atlantic. It was much larger, with two stacks. Everywhere was carpeted and our cabins luxurious and spacious The cabin crew were professional and courteous, the food excellent and the entertainment splendid. The only thing I regretted was not being able to talk to the crew.

The sea journey took us down the Californian coast to Mexico, then on to Panama and through the new Panama canal. I thought mother had done us all proud till we hit the Caribbean and ran into a hurricane.

I had never been in anything with so much fury and we all ended up in a life boat with two children and two women and two men. The poor kids, a brother and sister, had lost their parents and mother made it her duty to look after them and adopted them.

Mother ignored uncle’s barbed comments about the safety of trains and organised us all in our duties on the life craft.

“We go that way,” she ordered, pointing west

“and why should we go that way and not that way,” uncle said, pointing East.

“Because that way, you idiot, is the Atlantic ocean. This way,” pointing West, "we will hit land."

As uncle was pretty useless at anything physical, he was put in charge of the rudder and giving instructions to the oarsmen. Mother had worked out a roster to work the oars.

Everything was comfy so far. The weather was wonderful and the seas calm. The life craft was built for more people than us, so we had plenty of rations. I was having a delightful time chatting to one of the woman who was young and quite attractive when mother gave a groan and said we’re heading into a storm. I turned around and looked at a bank of thick black clouds with flashes of lightning.

Mother took immediate control and told everyone to get their lifejackets on and instructed me to get enough cord from the lifeboat kit for each person to tie themselves to the boat. This was to prevent us from floating away if we fall out the boat. She also took control of the rudder and told the men to man the oars and the two women to share one oar. The children were bundled at mother’s feet and Uncle Bertie was given the job of bailing out the boat and in this way we headed into the storm.

The wind rose to a howl, and the rain pelted down on top of us as we starting rowing then we climbed a sudden sharp wave and as we flipped over the top the sudden jolt shot Lucy, one of the children, out of the boat. Undaunted, mother asked if she was floating with her head above water. One man said yes and mother replied, hold on were coming up to a big one and fired out a commands to keep us lined up with the wave. It would be a disaster if we ended up side on. The boat went into a step incline. We went on, going forward, and all our strength was used up in just keeping us in line. I looked up in amazement as I looked down on the water and bracing myself with my feet to stop falling then we tipped over the top of the wave and fell backwards.

We scrambled back into place as the boat raced down the back slope of the wave.

“The girl,” mother shouted, “ is she still afloat?”

I peered through the gloom and spotted the little head .

“Yes,” I yelled.

“Right, get ready for the next one and bail for your life Bertie.”

We were prepared now and climbed over the wave then the next one which was smaller till we were floating with just the rain pelting down on top of us. Mother pulled Lucy in and hauled her out of the water coughing and spluttering but otherwise alright.

For the rest of the day we all huddled under a tarpaulin wet and miserable and the morning sun beat down on us. We sat steaming ánd miserable in our saturated clothes. Sandra, the young woman, said, “if we weren’t such ladies and gentlemen we would strip off and dry ourselves.”

One man jumped up and announced he had an idea. He stuck two oars, upright, in the rowlocks and tied the tarpaulin between the oars.

“Right,” he said, “ladies to the front, blokes to the back.”

As each group stripped off, there was much giggling and a robust exchange of comments till there was ladies undergarment and men’s longjohns flying in the breeze.

For most of the day both groups dried off in the sun and fell fast asleep until one child asked what that big boat with the smoke coming out of it was doing. I stood up and stared at a steamer whose deck was packed with sailors, some with telescopes, waving, yelling and cheering at us. Everyone, especially the women, rushed to get dressed and just as we were doing up the last buttons the ship’s tender chugged up alongside.

“Ahoy there,” a sailor yelled, “are you from the SS Luxury that sank some weeks ago.”

We yelled we were and soon was hauled aboard the tender.

The shipping company got us to New York and onto a sailing schooner back to England with no further incidents. I went back to school and on to university.

That year wasn’t my finest year, but it was one where I found untapped strengths within me and saw some wonderful qualities in my mother.

Uncle Bertie’s project was quite successful, and he moved into one villa and managed the resort. He also signed over control of mother’s trust to mother. He reasoned that anybody that can save his life can manage their own money. Mother went back to her estate and adopted the two children then raised them to be well-mannered, successful people to my amazement. Oh and I married the cabin boy.