To Be Beside.



  To Be Beside

  The First Sylvanus Kent Story

  By Chris Cook

  Copyright

  Copyright © Chris Cook 2017 All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Reviews

  Bibliography – Also by

  Biography

  To Be Beside

  Chapter 1 – Friday October 29th 1841 London Victoria Railway station

  The damp autumnal air hung heavy with coal smoke as the lengthening orange rays of the sun sliced through the haze above the newly completed terminus.

  Outside; another handsome carriage turned the corner of Buckingham Palace Road to join the excited throng outside the concourse of Victoria station. There was an air of great expectation at the prospect of being one of the first to travel at break neck speed on one of the new locomotives of the London and South coast line.

  A distinguished figure in full length mackintosh descended from the steps with the assistance of a servant.

  Another servant carried two cases and the three hurried toward the platforms amongst the steam, hustle and bustle.

  ‘This will do Giddings. The railway porter will help me aboard from here I am sure.’

  ‘Certainly you lordship,’ replied the servant placing the luggage at the feet of the porter.

  His lordships servants watched enviously as he disappeared into the dense exhalation of steam from the engine snorting at the buffers.

  The place was like a vast iron and glass cathedral to the mighty god of steam. The porter continued with his lordships luggage to the guards van and then escorted him to his seat in the first class carriage compartments.

  ‘This is your seat Sir.’

  ‘And this is for you my good man.’ said his lordship handing him some coins which he seemed really pleased with.

  The First Class compartment interior was cosy and luxurious and a welcome relief from the smoky hustle of the platform. Inside was not too dissimilar from the most comfortable of horse drawn carriages but offered so much more speed and excitement, cutting the fifty mile journey from six hours to just over one.

  ‘Hello Benson my good chap.’ said his lordship to his neighbour as he sat down.

  ‘Hello Edward you old scoundrel.’

  There was no Lordship from this gentleman – he was of the same social class as Lord Edward Lytton in fact they were at school together at Eton College.

  ‘So are you looking forward to your exciting weekend of fun and debauchery in beautiful bohemian Brighton?

  ‘Yes very much and also to help you find a new abode by the fashionable seaside which I can purloin from time to time.’

  ‘Yes I too old chum, me too. But of course you must have some free time you know. I have things to do and I would not wish to take all your time with my wild dreams.

  John Benson nodded. He knew his place. After all they had shared the formative years of their lives like brothers. Even now they were rarely parted at social events and functions.

  Lord Edward was seeking an alternative lifestyle away from his banking hierarchy, where he could truly unwind without the attentive glare of London. Brighton with its new travel links and Bohemian lifestyle seemed the perfect place and less than half a day’s journey.

  Two ladies dressed in very fashionable attire joined them on the other seats which faced back towards the end of the train. They also seemed excited too and rather giggly at the prospect of the journey.

  ‘They do say that the human body cannot survive the speeds that these locomotives are capable of.’ said John rather loudly so the ladies could hear.

  ‘I do hope they are wrong. I feel that I am too young and have not experienced enough of life.’ said one of the ladies fluttering her fan in front of her pretty face.

  ‘Are you ladies continuing to Brighton?’ Enquired John although he felt that Edward would rather him not ask.

  ‘Yes Sir and you?’ replied one of the ladies.

  ‘Yes I am accompanying my friend Lord Lytton here to locate seaside accommodation for him.’

  The two ladies nodded as their gazes fell on Lord Lytton who oozed quiet confidence from centuries of aristocratic blood and breeding.

  ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I am John Benson and this is Lord Edward Lytton.

  The ladies looked suitably impressed

  ‘In that case I am Elizabeth Gaunt and this is Lady Isabella Russell, we too are going to Brighton to discover and partake in its charm.’

  Just then the compartment door opened and in dashed a rather breathless gentleman who sat down beside Elizabeth.

  He was confident in his manner and handsome in a humorous smile provoking way.

  He said nothing simply placed his carpet bag on the overhead rack as the train whistle blew accompanied by excited shouts from the guard in the next carriage and suddenly the train lurched forward and began to trundle out of the station.

  As they picked up speed they soon crossed the river bridge and could see the bridges of the Thames to the West silhouetted in front of the watery orange setting sun.

  ‘Tickets please. As the door slid open the collector stood with his clip to authorize their journey.

  The late arrival was first to offer his ticket.

  ‘I am afraid you are only second class Sir and this is first class. You will have to pay the difference or leave.’ Said the conductor

  ‘Oh sorry I didn’t appreciate the rules.’

  ‘I know Sir it’s all new to us all but I will have to ask you to leave.

  ‘Certainly, and sorry to trouble you kind folk.’

  He left; with his carpet bag intact and headed down the train.

  The others barely showed their tickets before the collector continued on his way.

  A little further up the train the gentleman with the carpet bag finally found a second class carriage which was also comfortable but rather more open, crowded and smoky

  He sat opposite a lady and gentleman who were very well attired. Along side him sat another man who seemed to be examining a beautifully manuscripted family tree. Out of the window; the houses and rooftops of Clapham sped by.

  ‘I imagine this whole train will arrive in Brighton God willing?’

  ‘The couple looked surprised at Sylvanus’ remark.’

  ‘I imagine so.’ replied the slightly startled gentleman.

  ‘That’s good I would not like to leave part of me in some Wealden town on the way. Are you holidaying in Brighton?’

  ‘Er no we are visiting my wife’s sister who is living in Brighton and married to a steam engine driver.’

  ‘Ah good so if we are lucky he is driving our locomotive and will guide us safely to our destination.

  And you kind Sir what is your intention?’ He enquired of the gentleman to his side.

  The man turned his gaze for a moment from the papers and muttered.

  ‘I have family business to attend to and I would prefer you didn’t remind me of this breakneck speed and situation.’ Immediately he folded his papers and returned to his window staring blankly out at the passing buildings sprawling south of the expanding capital along the iron artery of the railway track.

  With that Sylvanus took a weighty book from his carpet bag and continued to read with occasional glimpses out of the window as glowing embers from the engine flew by and the smoke billowed closely at the wi
ndows as a result of a tunnel or bridge.

  There were only a couple of stops before the locomotive pulled hesitantly into Brighton Terminus about a quarter to nine in the evening to the excited expectation of the travellers.

  There was a frenzied atmosphere as the riders dismounted their carriages and found porters or headed heavily burdened for the exit.

  Outside the concourse there were numerous hackney cabs awaiting the expectant travellers and to take them to their destination.

  Sylvanus queued in the damp evening air and inhaled the salty flavour from the nearby ocean. He was used to smoggy coal tar laden atmosphere of Pimlico so Brighton had already improved his demeanour.

  ‘Can you smell the ocean?’ Sylvanus enquired of the man behind him in the queue.

  ‘Yes I believe I can.’

  Soon Sylvanus was perched in his carriage. ‘Imperial Hotel please.’

  ‘Right you are Sir.’ Replied the cabby and pulled out of the station into the night air and headed south down Queens Road to the seafront. Their path was lit by modern and beautifully crafted iron gas lamps. At the ocean they turned right and headed west as the waves crashed beside them and glinted in the streetlights. After about half a mile the cabbie turned into a rather majestic Georgian residence recently named the Imperial hotel.

  ‘Here you are Sir. Threepence ha’penny.’

  ‘Very good kind driver here is sixpence – enjoy some beer on me. I am in party mood.’

  Sylvanus trudged to the door with his bag where an attentive doorman took it from him and escorted him to the desk.

  ‘Good evening Sir and welcome to the Imperial hotel.’

  ‘Thank you kind Sir – I have a reservation under the unfortunate name of Kent. Sylvanus Kent although I have to say I prefer your county of Sussex to that of my name.’

  ‘Ah yes Sir you are in room 223. Buttons here will take your luggage to your room on the second floor. Are you alright with stairs Sir?

  ‘Yes, yes still able to negotiate a couple of beautiful opulent flights of stairs with red carpet, brass and ironwork and all lit by ornate candelabra.

  Buttons led up the opulent staircase to the second floor and opened the door for him.

  ‘There you are Sir – sea view room. If you would like anything please do not hesitate to contact one of us. There is a bell chord beside the bed.’

  ‘Well since you asked. I would love a cheese on toast and a glass of gin.’

  ‘Certainly Sir it will be with you immediately.’

  Buttons accepted the tip once again with excitement and hurried to place the food order.

  Sylvanus hurried to the window and strained to see the sea lapping not a few hundred yards away. The Imperial was not quite the best hotel in Brighton being at the Hove end but it certainly was one of the new top ten and was becoming used to dealing with eccentric gentlemen down for a weekend fun from London.

  It was hardly more than 15 minutes before his food and drink arrived.

  ‘Here is your order Sir.’

  ‘Thank you young man. And here is your reward. Now tell me two things. Is the bar still open and where are the pretty girls?’

  ‘Yes the Imperial bar is open until midnight and often there are pretty girls there but the guarantee of the most beautiful girls you should go to the Mannequin club.’

  ‘Thank you again.’ said Sylvanus over-tipping the man so his eyes were on stalks. ‘Maybe you can give me directions tomorrow or arrange for me to get to the right places.’

  ‘Yes certainly Sir, certainly Sir. I will be on duty and at your command Sir.’

  Sylvanus returned to his plate of cheese on toast. It was not the most exotic meal but one he had cherished since childhood and which could guarantee to make him feel warm and loved. Although he was a man of some means Sylvanus was content with simple pleasures in life.

  He gently sipped his gin along with mouthfuls of delightful toasted cheese.

  On completion he looked at his pocket watch and discerning that it was still before midnight decided to venture to the bar.

  He retraced his route to the ground floor and entered the room behind reception.

  There were only a few people still drinking, three single men dressed in fine tweed suits, a couple and two women both of whom he decided were a little too involved for his attention.

  The barmaid however was rather sweet so he decided to sit at the bar to maintain her attention.

  ‘A gin please young lady, against room 223.’

  ‘Certainly Sir.’

  He watched her turn to the worktop behind where there was an array of bottles. She had long hair which was tied up under a pretty white lace cap. As she turned their gazes met and he was transfixed by her natural beauty. She returned to him with the glass like a goddess bearing offerings.

  ‘223 Sir.’ she replied.

  ‘Yes and here’s a little something for you.’ replied Sylvanus after a moment’s hesitation.

  His tip was more than the price of the gin.

  ‘Thank you Sir – very kind.

  I am not sure if you know but the bar closes at midnight.’

  ‘Ah yes but I am sure I can get some room service if I fancy a little extra can’t I?’

  ‘Yes Sir without doubt.

  ‘What is your name?’ enquired Sylvanus.

  ‘Annie Sir.’

  ‘Well Annie it is a pleasure to be served by you. Now tell me are all the girls in Brighton as pretty as you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know Sir. I have only been working here in Brighton for around 6 months. My home is just the other side of the South Downs in the village of Poynings.’

  ‘Ah very nice. So would I have passed through it on the locomotive from London?

  ‘Not quite Sir you would have gone through a tunnel through the hills about 3 miles East of Poynings at a small village called Clayton. It’s called the Clayton tunnel.’

  ‘Ah I see. So do you travel home regularly?’

  ‘I have only been home once in the 6 months I have been here. I live in the workers quarters in the hotel basement but I feel quite happy here for now.

  My mother has popped in to see me and to do some shopping once or twice.’

  ‘Whisky and ginger please.’

  One of the gentlemen enquired of Annie.

  ‘Certainly Sir’

  ‘You have a very sensual way of pouring drink Annie. I like you very much.’

  ‘Why thank you Sir. I like you too. It is not often I can have a sensible conversation without a male customer wanting to get me to their room.’

  ‘Really, I am surprised.’ Said Sylvanus but then again he wasn’t so surprised.

  Sylvanus was a little taken aback that he may not have been the first to try to attract Annie’s attention.

  ‘What are you in Brighton for Sir? If you don’t mind me asking’

  ‘Not at all. To be honest I have no particular intention. I wanted to be among the first to discover this new fangled locomotive thing and also I have heard that Brighton is very good for the soul both in mind and with the curative air and waters of the sea.’

  ‘Well I am not sure about the waters at this time of year Sir, but certainly many swear by them and there have been many ailments cured simply by being here and enjoying the local produce and the fruits of the sea.’

  ‘You speak very well young lady. Very poetically.’

  ‘Why thank you Sir, I have half a mind to write my memoirs some day or some tales that come into my head but for now a barmaid I shall be, morning, noon and night.

  ‘Well it has been a pleasure knowing you but I think there is little more time to drink here so could you send a double gin to my room for my nightcap.’

  ‘Certainly Sir 223 isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, quite right dear girl and I do hope to see you again before I return to London. Who knows I may decide not to return, but remain here and enjoy the delights.’

  He took her hand as he descended from the bar, bending deeply to kiss the
back of her hand with a lingering kiss.

  ‘She could also feel some more money being pressed into her palm.

  ‘Thank you again kind Sir.’

  Sylvanus was soon in his room and once again squinting into the darkness for a sign of the nearby ocean.

  A knock came on the door.

  There was Annie herself, clasping a glass of double gin.

  ‘Your order Sir. It was changeover for the room boys so I though it best if I deliver it on my way to my bed.’

  ‘Oh Annie you are wonderful. However good this place is you are too good for it.

  Could you leave it on the table while I find a little something for you?’

  ‘There is no need Sir. You have tipped me quite enough tonight; you do know there is no need to tip more than 10% don’t you?’

  ‘Dear girl money is nothing. It is merely a token which allows access to things. I shall be glad if I ever manage to rid myself of the bond of money but I do believe in spreading some happiness which it appears to do.’

  As he slipped some more coins into her hand she took the opportunity to kiss his cheek

  ‘How very lovely thank you Annie. Here are another couple of coins for the kiss.’

  ‘Don’t mention it Sir. It’s just my father has not been well and this extra money will help him get some medicine.’

  ‘Oh Annie you are a sweet girl. How much does he need for medicine?’

  ‘You have given more than enough and I may even be able to get myself a new bonnet so please, no more.’

  ‘Not even for another kiss.’

  ‘No; another kiss is free for your kindness.’

  They embraced and this time she kissed him squarely and passionately on his mouth.

  ‘Are you busy tomorrow Annie? For I would love to help you choose that bonnet and I am in desperate need of a guide to your torturous backstreets I have heard of called the Lanes.’

  ‘My shift starts at Midday Sir so I can be yours until then. They do not like us fraternizing with guests though so perhaps we could meet a little distance from here. How about 10.00 o’clock at the seafront end of Queens Road. I will be waiting and hoping to see you. You will love the Lanes. I promise.’

  ‘Me too.’

  With one more hug, she was gone down the hallway and down the stairs leaving Sylvanus with a slightly amazed and confused expression.

  Perhaps this girl is more special than he could ever imagine.