A Loving Family

by Dilly Court

  ‘You couldn’t have been more mistaken. It seems we’ve been at cross purposes all these months, Stella my love.’

  ‘Am I really your love?’

  He answered her with a kiss, receiving a roar of approval from a group of men who staggered out of the pub on the corner. ‘Go to it, mate.’

  Kit raised his hand in a brief salute. ‘Come on, Stella. This is no place to loiter. I must get you home.’

  They walked on arm in arm. She shot him a covert look. ‘You won’t leave now, will you, Kit?’

  He tightened his grasp. ‘I’m afraid there’s no going back, and I wouldn’t want to. I’ve been a dreamer and a bit of a waster all these years and now I want to make something of myself, if only for you. I want you to be proud of me, my love. I don’t want to slip back into my old ways and break your lovely heart.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said sharply, a finger of fear running down her spine. ‘I’d never think ill of you. I want us to be together.’

  ‘And we will, eventually.’ He stopped beneath a gas lamp, his eyes searching her face with an expression of wonderment as if each second he found something new and infinitely precious to love and admire. ‘You must understand, Stella. I have to do this, and I couldn’t get out of it even if I wanted to. I’ve bought into the British Army and I’d probably have to buy myself out if I left before my time was up.’

  She was suddenly cold. The harvest moon overhead might have been shining down on snow instead of the dew-glossed cobblestones. The chill seemed to consume her whole being. ‘You choose the Army over me.’

  ‘No, of course not. I have no choice, please try to understand. But I will return.’

  She turned away. Her heart was too full to allow reason to overcome emotion. ‘You say that, but it’s just words. You might fall in love with the colonel’s daughter or you might die in battle. Either way you’ll be lost to me. If you leave tomorrow that will be the end of everything. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.’ She broke free from him and ran home, ignoring his pleas for her to stop.

  Kit left early next morning before the rest of the household had risen. Stella went about her daily routine trying hard to keep her feelings to herself, but Rosa was quick to note her distress. Perry and Spike had left for Lincoln’s Inn Fields, where the archangel had been hired to investigate a client by one of his contacts, and Rosa was finishing her breakfast of tea and toast. She put down her cup with a clatter. ‘For heaven’s sake cheer up, Stella. He’s only gone to Canterbury. We’ll see him again soon.’

  Stella continued kneading bread dough. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Yes, you do. It’s obvious you have feelings for my brother and that he loves you.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  Rosa’s cheeks dimpled and she chuckled. ‘Any fool could see that you care for each other and it’s just what Kit needed. He’s pulled himself together and he’s trying to make something of himself, instead of dabbling in the law and drinking himself to death. He’s done it for you, Stella.’

  ‘And if he gets killed in battle I suppose you’ll say he’s done that for me.’

  ‘You mustn’t think that way. All right, soldiers suffer fatalities, but we’re not at war yet and it might never happen. In the meantime Kit is trying to make you proud of him. Can’t you see that?’

  ‘Maybe, but it doesn’t alter the fact that we’re from different worlds, Rosa. For all that you and I are friends, as far as society is concerned I’m still a servant and you’re a lady. It makes no difference that you find yourself in straitened circumstances: the gap between us will always be there.’

  ‘No,’ Rosa said, rising to her feet. ‘I won’t have that. You’re my dear friend and we’re in this together. I want you to travel into Essex, today if possible, and you’re to bring your mother, Belinda and Aunt Maud back with you. As Kit said, we’ve plenty of room, and you’ve only to find your brother and your family will be complete.’

  ‘But we can’t live off your charity, Rosa. I must find work first so that I can support them.’

  ‘The funeral parlour is still empty. I walked past there yesterday.’

  ‘What are you suggesting?’

  ‘Did Ronald have a wife and children? It’s just possible that the premises might belong to your aunt.’

  ‘What would she do with it? She couldn’t run an undertaking business, and neither could I.’

  ‘It’s a shop for all that, Stella. It could change purpose and sell anything, even paper flowers. Think about it.’

  Stella set the dough to prove, covering it with a damp cloth. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to walk along the street and see if the owner has put a notice in the window. Maybe the widow, if there is one, is looking for someone to take over the lease.’

  ‘There you are,’ Rosa said triumphantly. ‘Let’s go for a walk. It’s a fine day and I feel like doing something that will take my mind off Kit. I miss him too.’

  The shop window was empty apart from a few dusty paper petals strewn on the floor. The purple curtains that shielded the interior of the funeral parlour from prying eyes hung limply and were lacy with moth holes. The paintwork outside was peeling and Clifford’s name on the fascia was almost obliterated by grime. Stella was about to walk on when she realised that the door was slightly ajar. She gave it a gentle push and it swung open. ‘Is anyone there?’ She stepped inside and found herself face to face with a tall, angular woman dressed in widow’s weeds. ‘Who are you?’ They both spoke at the same time.

  The woman glared at her. ‘Have you no respect for the dead? Can’t you see that the funeral parlour is closed?’

  Rosa gazed at the chaotic scene with trestle tables upturned and a half-finished coffin lying on its side. Papers were strewn about the floor and cupboard doors left hanging by broken hinges. ‘What a mess,’ she said in a low voice.

  ‘There was nothing here worth stealing.’ The woman in black gave Stella a penetrating look. ‘If you knew Ronald at all you’d be aware that he never kept money on the premises.’

  ‘Are you related to Mr Clifford, ma’am?’

  ‘I am his widow. Not that it’s any of your business, young woman. Who, may I ask, are you?’

  ‘My name is Stella Barry and Mr Clifford’s stepmother is my great-great-aunt.’

  ‘Do you mean to tell me that the old trout is still alive? I thought she’d died years ago.’

  ‘I discovered Aunt Maud living in cheap lodgings above a butcher’s shop in Artillery Road. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.’

  ‘Ronald never mentioned his stepmother. I really thought she’d passed away.’

  ‘Aunt Maud was in a terrible state when I found her,’ Stella said angrily. ‘She was suffering from neglect and half out of her mind with loneliness.’

  ‘My husband didn’t like his stepmother, but then he disliked a great many people. He was a cold-hearted man and I saw very little of him. Now I’m free and I’m living as I want to. It’s quite a pleasant change, I can assure you.’

  ‘My aunt ought to have some share in this business,’ Stella said firmly. ‘She was left with nothing other than what your late husband chose to give her, which was very little.’

  Mrs Clifford sniffed and her lips compressed into a thin line. ‘That had nothing to do with me. Ronald didn’t discuss such things, and now I’m trying to decide what to do with the premises. I can’t sell the building because the rooms above are tenanted by people who unfortunately have long leases.’

  ‘Would you consider letting the shop to me?’ Stella said slowly. ‘I wouldn’t be able to run it as an undertaker, but I might have an idea that would prove beneficial to both of us.’

  ‘Really?’ Rosa whispered. ‘Do tell.’

  ‘Yes, Miss Barry. Do enlighten us.’ Mrs Clifford gazed round the shop interior with a disdainful expression. ‘I can’t think of any business that could survive here, especially when the previous owner was murdered by persons unknown.’

  �
�Have the police found any clues as to the identity of the killer?’ Stella had to ask the question.

  Mrs Clifford shook her head. ‘They are still hunting for the villain, although I’m sure that Ronald had made many enemies in his lifetime. He was not a likeable man and he was not a good husband, but to be fair to his memory he did leave me very well off, which is why I haven’t bothered with the shop until now.’

  ‘I’m thinking of doing something entirely different,’ Stella said slowly. ‘I was trained as a cook in one of the best houses in Essex. My specialty is making cakes and pastries.’

  ‘This is hardly the sort of area to open a shop selling fancies,’ Mrs Clifford said, shaking her head. ‘You would need to be in the West End to succeed. The people round here are more accustomed to eating pie and jellied eels.’

  ‘I have to earn my own living, Mrs Clifford. I would put everything I have into such a venture, and I have my family to help me. I’m not alone.’

  ‘Indeed you’re not,’ Rosa said enthusiastically. ‘There is always an excuse for people to treat themselves to something special and delicious. You could make wedding cakes and funeral biscuits and simnel cakes at Easter.’

  The memory of what happened to that small but very special cake on Mothering Sunday all those years ago flashed into Stella’s mind and she swallowed hard. The theft of that cake had haunted her dreams ever since, and she had always planned to make another and even better cake for her mother. That day seemed to be getting closer. She met Mrs Clifford’s cynical gaze with a challenge in her eyes. ‘I believe I could do it, ma’am. Are you willing to take a risk and allow me to rent the premises? And would you agree to a change of use?’

  Mrs Clifford was silent for a moment. She stared at Stella with narrowed eyes as if calculating the risk, and then she allowed her expression to relax just a little. ‘I’ll instruct my solicitor to draw up a tenancy agreement and let you have a one-year lease to start with. If you succeed I’ll consider extending it.’

  ‘And the rent, ma’am?’ Stella hardly dared frame the question. She would need to raise a considerable amount of money in order to make her business work, but if the rent was prohibitive she might have to give up the idea altogether.

  ‘I’ll have to think about that.’ Mrs Clifford moved towards the doorway. ‘But it will be reasonable. I’m not greedy and grasping like Mr Clifford, and it seems that you have taken responsibility for his stepmother. I think a peppercorn rent for the first year will suffice. If you succeed we’ll talk again.’ She opened her reticule and took out a visiting card, handing it to Stella. ‘Call on me in a few days’ time and I’ll have the necessary papers ready for you to sign.’ She opened the door and swept out of the premises.

  ‘There’s only one problem,’ Stella said slowly. ‘If I’m to start up here I’ll need money for the rent and funds I can draw on to turn the workshop into a kitchen. I’ll need a large range with at least two ovens, and that’s going to be very expensive. Perhaps it was just a dream, Rosa. I allowed myself to be carried away and lost sight of reality.’

  ‘Nonsense. You mustn’t think like that. Tomorrow, you and I will go to Essex. You’ll visit your mother at the farm and ask her to join us in London with Belinda and Aunt Maud, and her wretched cat, and I’ll go to Portgone Place. I’ll tell Tommy that he has to recompense you for the hurt and humiliation he caused you by lending you the money to start up in business. He can afford it, I’m sure.’

  Stella stared at her, aghast. ‘You can’t ask him for money.’

  ‘I’ll tell him it’s a business opportunity.’ Rosa laid her hand on Stella’s arm. ‘Don’t look so appalled. We’ll pay him back every penny. It’s just a loan, and anyway I need an excuse to visit Portgone Place. I can’t just turn up like a lovelorn schoolgirl. I do have some pride.’

  Next morning, just as Stella and Rosa were preparing to leave for the railway station, a barouche with a coat of arms emblazoned on the door pulled up outside the house. ‘It’s the Langhornes’ coach, and that’s Collins on the driver’s seat. You don’t have to pocket your pride, Rosa. I think Tommy has come to see you.’

  Chapter Twenty

  THE OLD HOUSE in Fleur-de-Lis Street had suddenly come to life. Aunt Maud and Timmy were reinstated in the front parlour while Jacinta and Belinda occupied two rooms on the second floor. The archangel grumbled that women had invaded his territory, but Stella was convinced that he secretly enjoyed being the only adult male in a house echoing with the sound of female voices and girlish laughter. Belinda and Rosa had become firm friends and Stella might have felt a little jealous had she not been fully occupied. Converting the workshop where coffins had been made into a kitchen suitable for a professional cook was no mean feat, but she could already see herself there baking cakes and fancies.

  Tommy had been persuaded to invest a whole year’s allowance in the project, which he did, Stella suspected, simply to please Rosa, but whatever his motives he handed over the money willingly, and he became a frequent visitor to the house in Fleur-de-Lis Street. He gave his investment in Stella’s business as his excuse, but even to a casual observer it was obvious that it was Rosa he came to see.

  Stella had hoped that Belinda might want to work with her, but her sister had enjoyed a taste of freedom on the farm and she showed little interest in Stella’s plans. It was Jacinta who threw herself wholeheartedly into helping to turn what had been a run-down funeral parlour into a bakehouse and shop. Mother and daughter worked together tirelessly, often staying on the premises late into the evening cleaning up after the workmen had left. When they were at home they sat together in the kitchen, making lists of the utensils they would need and the supplies they would have to purchase. Together they visited flour mills and sugar bakers to discuss buying in bulk and organising deliveries. They ventured into warehouses close to the London docks where they purchased sacks of dried fruit and almonds, and smaller quantities of cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and allspice.

  The shop itself had to be fitted out with a counter and shelves where they could display their wares to their best advantage. Polished mahogany and glass were used to great effect and Stella invested in a gasolier which would illuminate the premises on dark winter mornings and evenings.

  All this activity kept her busy in the daytime, but at night alone in her room she thought only of Kit, recalling with a lump in her throat the close embrace they had shared on the evening before he departed for Canterbury. He wrote long letters detailing the rigours of his training with amusing descriptions of the men in his unit, but matters were escalating in Afghanistan and it seemed that a second war was almost inevitable. When the British mission was turned back as it approached the eastern entrance of the Khyber Pass, she feared that it was only a matter of time before the 4th Hussars were called upon to do their duty. Kit would sail for a far country and inevitable danger.

  ‘Gervase Rivenhall might as well have put a loaded gun to Kit’s head,’ Stella said one evening as she sat with her mother, making a list of the things they had to do before they started work next day. ‘That man has a lot to answer for.’

  Jacinta smiled sadly. ‘I know it only too well. If it had not been for you he would have destroyed me completely. I was totally in his power and it seemed there was no escape.’

  Stella laid her hand on her mother’s as it rested on the tabletop amidst sheets of paper and the ledger in which they listed their purchases. ‘You’re free now, Ma. That’s all that matters.’

  ‘Am I?’ Jacinta’s dark eyes flashed with anger. ‘I’m still legally married to the brute. He has me trapped so that I cannot think of remarrying.’

  ‘He said he would divorce you.’ Stella eyed her mother curiously. ‘Is there someone you want to marry, Ma?’

  ‘Perhaps, but I don’t know if he was serious when he spoke to me of a future together.’

  ‘Are you speaking of Mr Hendy?’

  ‘Thaddeus is a perfect gentleman and quite the kindest man I have ever met, apart from my d
ear Isaac.’

  ‘I didn’t realise you’d become close to Mr Hendy, Ma. Why didn’t you tell me? I would never have dragged you up to London to work so hard if I’d thought you might be happier in the country.’

  ‘My darling girl, you and your sister are more important to me than any man. I admit I’m fond of Thaddeus, but I missed so much of your childhood and I abandoned Belinda and Freddie to the workhouse. I have much to atone for.’

  ‘But you didn’t have any choice, Ma. You settled me with the Langhornes and I was reasonably happy there, although it’s not the life I would have chosen for myself.’

  Jacinta pushed the ledger across the table with an impatient flick of her fingers. ‘And this is? Do you think it makes me happy to see you taking on debt and drudgery in order to keep bread on the table?’

  ‘It will be cake, Ma,’ Stella said, smiling. ‘We all have to earn our keep, even Belle, who just wants to enjoy being part of a loving family again, but I’m going to tell her she has to serve in the shop. You and I will be busy in the kitchen, and Rosa is not really part of this.’

  ‘I think that Rosa will soon be engaged to Tommy. That boy practically lives here.’

  ‘We wouldn’t have a business if it weren’t for him.’

  Jacinta rose to her feet. ‘I know, Stella. I’ve heard all the reasons for this burden that you’ve taken upon yourself, but if I’d been a stronger woman I would never have allowed this to happen. If I’d done things differently maybe my children would not have suffered so much. As for poor Freddie, I don’t even know where he is. He might be dead for all I know.’ She clapped her hand to her forehead. ‘I am a wicked woman, Stella.’

  ‘No, you are not, Ma. You did what you had to do, and I’m doing the only thing I’m fitted for. I was trained as a cook and I’m going to bake cakes so fine that the queen herself will order them.’ She stood up and put her arms around her mother’s slim waist. ‘We’ll do it together, Ma.’