CHAPTER FOUR

Boss whimpered, and Ginger knew she’d better get him to the kennel before he had an accident. When she reached the entrance to steerage, a different seaman from the day previous said, “Can I assist?”

Ginger patted the tips of her bobbed hair with her gloved hand. “I have special permission to bring my puppy in and out of the kennel. My name is Mrs. Gold. You can confirm with the captain.” At least, this time the statement was true.

“Not necessary, madam. Your word is all I need.”

Ginger braced herself for the change of atmosphere and descended. Located in the belly of the ship, the steerage was dark and smelly, not entirely due to the animals that resided there—the stench of human uncleanliness permeated the place as well. She was loath to spend too much time there for fear of bringing the smell back to first class.

She hated how snobbish that sounded, even to her. Third-class patrons stared unabashedly, and though Ginger did her best to dress simply, wearing her plainest frock and straw hat, there was no escaping that she came from privilege. The folks here wore worn, unfashionable clothes in bland colours. The women kept their hair in large, dull, tangled buns on the tops of their heads. The men’s hair was longer than what was fashionable, and greasy without the aid of hair cream. The children ran around in bare feet. Wanting to appear friendly, Ginger tried smiling, but the women only frowned and pushed their children behind their backs, as if Ginger might be there to snatch them away.

Along with the dog kennel, other animals were stored there, mostly chickens and some piglets. There were even some cats, but Ginger imagined they lived on the ship to keep the rodent population down.

Ginger placed Boss on the ground, and said in greeting, “Hello, Scout.” She’d learned the waif’s name the day before and that he was an English orphan stowed onboard by one of the bellboys, his cousin Marvin.

“’Ello, miss.” Scout kneeled, his scratched-up bare knee against the dusty wooden floor. “’ello, Boss, me mate. ’Ave to widdle, do ya?” Ginger handed over Boss’s leash, and Scout disappeared with him. She wondered about the boy. Beneath the dirt on his face, the youngster’s eyes were bright with optimism, his eager smile always at the ready. She was moved with a desire to help the lad, and perhaps he could be of help to her.

By the time he returned with a happy and much-relieved terrier, Ginger’s plan was formulated.

“’Ere you go, miss,” Scout said. “Boss did great.” He flashed his large, toothy smile.

Ginger suppressed a giggle. “Understood.”

Scout stared at her as she stood there, probably wondering why she hadn’t skedaddled up the stairs the way she did last time. She hurried to relay her proposition.

“I’m in need of some help, Scout, and you look like the honest sort.”

“Oh, I am, miss. Me mam taught me manners ’fore she died. And virtues, ma’am. Like ’onesty.”

“Your mother sounds like she was a wonderful lady.”

“She were, miss.”

“I want to hire you to help me with Boss. He needs more fresh air and exercise than I’m able to give him.” This was partially true. Though Ginger had time to walk him, Boss’s presence in first class was deeply frowned upon and was prohibited at all the social events she planned to attend. She felt guilty about leaving him alone in her room so often.

“Yes, miss. I’d be ’appy to ’elp, but the guards at the door wun let me up.”

“You let me worry about that. To be clear, this is a job, not a favour. I’ll pay you three shillings for the duration of the trip.”

Scout’s young eyes lit up. “I’m yer man, miss.”

Ginger fought the grin threatening to burst through. “I thought so. You have to be discreet, as other passengers with dogs aren’t...bending the rules so much as I...”

“I is a ghost, miss. Practically invisible. And I know this ship like me own ’and, even the guard man dun know how much I know. There’s plenty of places to take Boss where we won’t bump into the likes of...”

Scout blushed, as if worried he might’ve offended Ginger by pointing out her class. She hurried to allay his fears.

“Exactly.” She winked and handed him the coins. “No one in first class should even know Boss exists. Why don’t you take Boss now? And I’ll meet you on the second-class deck behind the engine room in an hour.”

Scout reclaimed Boss’s leash. “I just need to tell me cousin.”

Ginger patted Boss’s head. “You be a good boy. See you soon.”

Ginger watched the interaction between the taller lad—lanky, with broad shoulders and a dark patch on his chin—and his young cousin. Marvin examined the coins and nodded his approval. Satisfied, Ginger ascended and made a deal with the seaman—it was amazing what a few bob would get you. When she reached the open deck, she took a long breath of the fresh sea air to cleanse her lungs.

Putting her self-professed sleuthing skills to work, she followed Scout and Boss, careful to remain a good distance back and out of sight. Scout did exactly as he promised, kept to second class in crannies and back areas reserved for storage. His kindness to Boss extended to the times when he didn’t know he was being observed, which came as a huge relief to Ginger. In exactly an hour, thanks to a pocket watch Scout possessed, they showed up at the engine room door where Ginger arrived only minutes before.

“How did it go?” Ginger asked, scooping Boss into her arms.

“Jus’ fine, miss. Me and Boss are chums.”

“Indeed, you are.” Satisfied by Scout’s character, she kept him in mind should she need him for another job in the future.