Charlotte House Affair 01 - My Particular Friend

making a delivery. They’d made a mess of it and was blocking the street.’
    ‘So there were many chairs on the street? Where was this?’
    ‘Queen Street and Trim.’
    ‘So you left your chair?’
    ‘Only for a moment, we moved some boxes that had fallen off a cart—there were others who helped us.’
    ‘Other chairmen?’ Charlotte asked.
    ‘Other chairmen, yeah.’
    ‘Did you recognize them?’ she asked again.
    ‘Course I recognized them. Don’t I know everyone who works in Bath?’ He turned to his partner. ‘You tell this nice lady if I don’t know everyone who carries a chair in Bath.’
    His partner, a much younger man wearing an ill fitting livery, agreed with that fatalism the young use in confirming the pronouncements of their elders.
    ‘Old Joe knows everyone in Bath,’ he agreed.
    ‘Everyone in Bath that carries a chair, I said. I don’t claim to know everyone in Bath.’
    Charlotte sighed, obviously finding the process of procuring information from Old Joe quite tedious.
    ‘Could you give me the names of these other chairmen?’ she asked.
    ‘Sure I could. Tell them who they was, Tom,’ he said, addressing the younger man.
    ‘I have no idea, ma’am. I don’t know ’em, but then I’m new,’ Tom said.
    ‘But I thought you said you know everyone!’ Charlotte said with noticeable irritation to Old Joe.
    ‘I said I know everyone that carries a chair and if I can see them, I can recognize them,’ he said, but he made this statement shifting uneasily on his feet, embarrassed by his admission.
    ‘Old Joe can’t see so good, ma’am,’ Tom offered. ‘That’s why I’m in front. He can see fine close up, but not so good far away.’
    ‘But I know these streets like the back of my hand,’ Old Joe said as proof of his worthiness.
    ‘Aye, he does and he’s still strong, stronger than me,’ Tom said in support of his partner.
    Charlotte sighed and then asked of Tom, ‘Can you describe the men who helped?’
    ‘No, ma’am, they was men, weren’t they? One thing, though, they weren’t very strong and they weren’t much help, even though it was they who said we should help the delivery men. Me and Old Joe did most of the work, and they were on their way before we had everything picked up.’
    At this information, Charlotte’s face lit up and for several seconds she was silent. Then she began to walk around the chair the men had deposited. She seemed to be inspecting it. Finally she asked, ‘Their chair, was it alike to yours?’
    Tom decided a second, then said, ‘Aye, it was. But there are many chairs like this in the city.’
    ‘Thank you, you’ve been very helpful,’ Charlotte said and swiftly produced coins for Old Joe and Tom, an act that caught Mr Simms’s eye. I could not help think he was weighing what he now owed my friend for he seemed for a second to have forgotten his grief.
    We prepared to leave when Charlotte asked of the men, ‘Oh, do you remember to what house this delivery was destined?’ Charlotte asked.
    ‘No I don’t,’ Tom replied after a glance to his partner. ‘The cart had spilled below the arch, right in the middle.’
    ‘Ah, then at the very corner of Queen and Trim,’ Charlotte said. ‘Thank you again. And should I need call on your services, what number is your chair?’
    Tom looked confused but answered. ‘I don’t rightly know, but just ask for …’
    ‘Number Twelve,’ Old Joe said. ‘That’s been the number of this chair this past ten years.’
    Charlotte again thanked the chairmen.
    ‘That is all you need ask?’ I asked my friend.
    ‘I think it is enough. Come, let us go to Queen Street.’
    Charlotte swept us back to the carriage with her usual energy, although by now I wished we were back home. My friend and I had taken the precaution of wearing country shoes but still my feet were wet and I was cold, which Mr Wallace noticed as he helped me into the carriage.
    ‘Your hand is freezing,’ he said to me as we settled into the carriage, which was already in motion, Charlotte having told our driver to proceed to Queen Street but a short distance away.
    ‘Thank you, I know,’ I said. He made to remove his coat and give it to me but I stopped his generous but unnecessary act.
    ‘You and Mr Simms are sitting on the carriage’s rugs. If you would kindly hand one to me.’ He did and I quickly bundled myself just as the carriage slowed for Queen Street.
    ‘I will get out,’ Charlotte said. ‘Jane, you’ve made