“I was sent by The Boston Cooking School,” were the words that finally came out of her mouth. She nearly rolled her own eyes when she heard herself.
A couple of the other men in the room snickered.
Gilbert’s eyebrows shot up. “On what business?” he asked, without any invitation for her to sit down.
In for a penny, in for a pound,Rose thought. “As you may or may not know, we have a nutrition program at the school. We are studying how sailors fare on ... well, on sailors’ fare. If you get my meaning.”
The men laughed again. One said, “Gilbert, she wants to know if our boys stay healthy on Navy chow.”
“Why would you want to talk to me?” he asked.
Quite right.Think, think, think.“We believe men need more vegetables in their diets. To stay healthy. Naturally, we’d pickle them for long journeys. The vegetables, not the men.” Rose laughed nervously.
To a man, they looked at her as if she had three heads.
She continued, “Naturally, we are wondering if you can design space in your vessels for more ... um, pickle jars.”
“Are you serious?” Gilbert spluttered. “Look, Miss—”
“Malloy,” she provided unthinkingly and then cringed.How stupid of her. However, if he recognized her name, he gave no outward sign.
“We are very busy here, Miss Malloy. However we aren’t designing new ships for the Navy at this juncture. No galleys, no storage, no shelves for your pickled vegetables.”
Rose was about to turn away, when he added, “However, I’ll get my assistant to take you to the Stores Sergeant. I’m sure he’ll be most interested in discussing the sailors’ nutritional needs with you.”
She nearly protested, but then, why not? At least she would still be able to search for Finn.
“Wait here a moment,” Gilbert instructed her before vanishing down the flight of stairs with more haste than she thought someone of his age could muster.
Rose merely smiled at the men, who went back to their work, and then she waited in silence. In a very few minutes, another man arrived, not dressed in a uniform as her first guide had been. Instead, he wore civilian clothing as did so many of the workers at the yard.
“Right this way, miss,” he said kindly. “I’ve been told to take you to Sergeant Morrison to talk about supplies.”
“Yes, thank you.” Rose accompanied him down two flights of stairs and out of the building. They crossed from one side of the yard to the other, traversing the main thoroughfare, and eventually, they ended up in front of a brick building without signage.
“The Stores Sergeant is in here, miss. You’ll have to meet with him by yourself. I have to get back to work.” He opened the door for her and stood back.
So, she wasn’t going to be left alone to wander the yard in search of her husband. Rose sighed. Perhaps she could leave the Stores Sergeant quickly and head out on a hunt by herself.
“Thank you,” she offered and looked inside. It was a dimly lit antechamber, from what she could see, and quite empty. Perhaps someone had been there recently, for bits of sawdust circled in the air, caught in the late-afternoon sunlight.
“Right in there, miss,” her guide urged.
Rose took a step inside. “Sergeant?” she called out but was met by silence.
“I don’t think he’s here.” She started to turn exactly as the door closed behind her.
“How rude!” Putting her hand on the knob, Rose found it to be locked.Oh dear!
“Sergeant?” she called out again hopefully.
Nothing and no one responded to her. She took a few hesitant steps forward until she was in the doorway of the next room, peering into the absolute darkness beyond. Considering the rest of the yard was bustling, it was unsettling to be in a confined space of stillness.What was going on?
Rose cleared her throat glancing again at the door behind her. However, before she could say another word, something that felt like a sack came over her head. She shrieked but a hand clamped over her mouth, pressing the cloth that smelled like grain against her face, and a strong arm snaked over her chest, pinning her arms to her sides.
She was silenced and subdued, mad as a wet cat, and quite terrified.
She half-expected to have her throat slit or to be knocked unconscious. Instead, her silent captor pushed her forward at a slow shuffle. When they reached the other side of the room, she hear another door being opened, and then she was shoved by a strong hand placed in the middle of her back.
Rose fell unceremoniously to her knees at the same time that she heard the heavy door behind her grate closed.
