Hold on to your Dreams

by Beryl Matthews

‘Men do not like clever women and Gertrude makes no attempt to hide her intelligence. It will not be easy to find a husband for her.’

  ‘Glendale appears to be quite interested in her,’ observed Lillian.

  ‘But she doesn’t like him and does her best to avoid him. I really can’t understand it. He is a man of good standing and well-respected.’

  ‘And wealthy.’

  ‘I’m afraid that doesn’t impress Gertrude. She told us that the only thing to consider is a man’s character, but she won’t even give herself a chance to get to know him.’

  ‘I’ve noticed she does her best to avoid him,’ Lillian said. ‘Has he declared his interest?’

  ‘He’s spoken to Sutton, but he made it clear we would never force our daughter to do anything she didn’t want to. Seriously though, I wish she could be more like her brother. Edward knows how to enjoy life. He’s out every evening with his friends, but Gertrude seems content with her own company.’

  ‘I shouldn’t worry about that. I had similar worries with my two, but they’re both married now and have settled nicely. I shall be a grandmother in another month.’

  ‘Congratulations. How marvellous for you, Lillian.’

  ‘Caught you! And you shouldn’t be eavesdropping. It’s rude.’

  Gertrude jumped when someone spoke softly in her ear. ‘David! Don’t creep up on me like that. I can hardly help hearing their conversation. And how did you find me?’

  ‘I just looked for a suitable hiding place.’

  She pulled a face. ‘You know me too well.’

  ‘Indeed I do, and I will not allow you to shirk your duty tonight. Your father asked me to find you and bring you out into the open. He wishes to dance with you, and so do I.’

  ‘Of course.’ She made to move away from the column when David placed a hand on her arm, his expression serious. ‘Has Edward said much to you about his gambling?’

  ‘No, but he’s asked me for money several times. I can’t give him any without going to Father, and he will want to know what I need it for. When I ask him how much he owes, he just smiles and says it isn’t much. But I’m worried. Will he talk to you, do you think?’

  David’s eyes clouded with concern. ‘We have been friends since childhood, and I would help him in any way I could. I am not wealthy, as you know, but I would give him whatever money I have if it would get him out of trouble.’

  ‘Trouble?’ she said in alarm. ‘Do you believe his debts are large?’

  ‘I have no proof. He will have nothing to do with me, as you know, but he’s running with a bad crowd. They are all from immensely rich families. He can’t possibly keep up with them, and I feel he could be in deep.’ When he noticed her distress, he smiled. ‘But I’m probably wrong. It’s hard to see an old friend go astray, and I expect I’m allowing my imagination to paint a dark picture. Let’s dance and forget all about it. Edward is intelligent, and will eventually see what he’s doing and sort himself out.’

  ‘You’re right, of course, but let’s hope it’s soon.’ She allowed him to escort her to the dance floor. She enjoyed his company and relaxed. Because they both cared very much for Edward, it was easy to let their imaginations run riot.

  When the dance ended, David escorted her back to their seats. Her father was also there now, and she smiled broadly at him, then whispered, ‘Did you find somewhere to hide as well?’

  He shook his head, amused. ‘I had some business to attend to.’

  ‘Ah.’ The music began again, and she was about to claim her dance with her father, when she saw Mr Glendale heading for them. She didn’t even try to stifle a groan.

  He gave a perfunctory bow to her parents, which irritated Gertrude. Arrogant men considered themselves superior, and it showed. Well, in her opinion, her family were the superior ones. Their comfortable lifestyle was the result of skill and honest labour, and she doubted if Mr Glendale had ever done a useful day’s work in his life. What did he have to strive for when everything he owned had been handed down from his ancestors?

  ‘Will you have the next dance with me, Miss Melrose?’

  There was no way she could refuse, and he knew it! She saw his eyebrows rise as she scowled at him. She had been looking forward to a dance with her father.

  ‘You go ahead, Gertrude,’ her father said, reading her mind accurately, his eyes alight with amusement. ‘We can dance later.’

  She was trapped, and would have words with her father later for not rescuing her. But for some odd reason her parents liked this man. Her mother was smiling at him with obvious pleasure.

  ‘Will you join us at supper, Mr Glendale?’ Florence asked.

  ‘I’m afraid I am already committed, Mrs Melrose, but I thank you for the invitation.’

  Gertrude allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. She knew she should make polite conversation, but she couldn’t think of a thing to say, and that was not like her.

  ‘You dance very well,’ he said, breaking the silence. ‘And you don’t talk endlessly about nothing. That’s a refreshing and rare quality, Miss Melrose.’

  She looked up then, sure his tone had a sarcastic ring to it. ‘I’m not sure if I have just been insulted?’

  A slight smile touched his mouth. ‘I assure you it was meant as a compliment. So many young girls appear to have nothing in their heads except gowns and the need to find a husband.’

  ‘I’m interested in neither.’ She gave a parody of a smile. ‘And you appear to have successfully avoided those seeking marriage.’

  ‘Now I have just been insulted!’ A deep laugh rumbled through him. ‘I think we should finish our dance in silence, don’t you?’

  ‘By far the best thing,’ she agreed, enjoying herself now. At least he had a sense of humour and did not easily take offence. But one good quality was not enough to make her like him.

  When the music ended he returned her to her parents, bowed to them and said, ‘I shall call upon you, Miss Melrose.’

  Before she could answer he had melted back into the crowd, leaving her bristling with indignation. The cheek of the man! He didn’t even have the good manners to ask if he could call. I’ll make sure I’m not at home!

  Supper was then served, and Gertrude was relieved when her brother joined them. At least he hadn’t returned to the card tables, but he appeared distracted. He sampled very little of the sumptuous buffet, and as soon as the music began again he was on his feet.

  ‘It is only an hour to midnight. I’ll join you then so we can welcome in the new century together.’

  ‘Of course, Edward.’ Florence smiled indulgently at her beloved son. ‘You go and enjoy yourself.’

  Much to Gertrude’s relief, Mr Glendale didn’t come near her again. She danced with her father, several young men, and David twice. She almost managed to find some pleasure in the noisy evening.

  On the stroke of twelve everyone cheered, clapped, and wished each other a Happy New Year. As Gertrude hugged her parents and her brother, she was overcome with a sense of foreboding. Something was telling her that there would be difficult times ahead. She was sure the new century was ushering in change for the Melrose family.

  No matter how sternly she told herself to stop being so silly, the feeling would not leave her.

  Chapter Three

  ‘Are you going out again, Gertrude?’

  ‘Yes, Mother. The threat of snow has passed so I thought I’d make the most of a fine day.’

  ‘But I heard Mr Glendale say he would call on you. He’ll be disappointed if you’re not at home.’

  ‘That was a week ago. He didn’t say when.’ She tried to keep the irritation she felt out of her voice but without success. ‘Am I to remain a prisoner in my own home till he decides to grace us with his presence?’

  ‘Don’t be sarcastic,’ her mother told her sharply. ‘I fail to understand what you have against him. He is a presentable man – many consider him handsome – he is wealthy and much in demand.’

  ‘I agree, but h
e is also arrogant and old.’

  ‘Old!’ Florence exclaimed. ‘Hanna told me he’s twenty-nine, and that’s the perfect age for a man to settle down with a wife and family. And he’s quite taken with you, my dear. Many girls would like to be in your position.’

  ‘I expect they would.’ She pulled on her gloves. ‘But there’s something about him I don’t like. He makes me uneasy and it’s a feeling I can’t dismiss.’

  ‘You and your feelings.’ Florence shook her head. ‘I don’t know how we managed to have such a strong-minded daughter. I can’t think who you take after.’

  Gertrude grinned. ‘Aunt Hanna?’

  ‘Oh, good gracious! Don’t become too much like her for all our sakes.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ she said. ‘But I don’t know why you look so horrified when Aunt Hanna’s mentioned. You know you like Father’s sister.’

  ‘That just shows you what a foolish woman I am.’ She couldn’t remain serious as her daughter burst into laughter. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To the bookshop in Wandsworth.’

  Florence sighed. ‘Why don’t you find a local bookshop that sells new books? You’ve no idea where those awful soiled books have been.’

  ‘New books are not as interesting as the second-hand ones. I can find all sorts of treasures on the shelves of Mr Partridge’s dingy old shop.’

  ‘You are a mystery to me.’ Her mother kissed her cheek. ‘Off you go and take a carriage both ways. Do you have enough money with you?’

  ‘Yes, Mother. I will only be about two hours.’

  ‘I’ll tell Mr Glendale that if he calls.’

  A look of devilment crossed Gertrude’s face. ‘You could also tell him that I spend my time in dusty second-hand bookshops and I’m not the kind of person he should associate with.’

  ‘I’m sure he’d find you even more intriguing if I did,’ her mother teased.

  ‘Heaven forbid!’ She heard her mother laughing as she left the house.

  The bell on the door jangled when Gertrude entered the shop. Instead of sounding a clear musical tone it was dreadfully out of tune. It always made her wince and wonder why on earth the shopkeeper didn’t replace it. Still, it was all part of the character of the place.

  She took a deep breath. There was nothing so evocative as the smell of old books. It was like the finest perfume to her and she adored it. The usual tingle of anticipation ran through her as she wondered what she would find today.

  She was completely lost in browsing when discordant voices came from behind another bookshelf.

  ‘’Ere. I’ve told you not to come in my shop. Clear off!’

  ‘I’m only looking. You’re a mean old bugger!’

  The voice was female and young by the sound of it. Unable to resist the temptation to see what was going on, she walked around the shelf. The owner was glaring at a girl of around fifteen or sixteen, Gertrude guessed. She was scruffy and holding a book in her hands.

  ‘I wasn’t going to pinch it. I ain’t a thief.’

  ‘Maybe, but you ain’t got no money either. You can’t just creep in here and read the books without buying them. I’ve told you that time and time again.’

  The look of longing on the young girl’s face as she put the book back on the shelf tore at Gertrude’s heart. She knew just how she was feeling.

  Stepping forward, she said, ‘Hello, my name’s Gertrude. What were you reading?’

  ‘Er …’

  ‘Miss Melrose.’ The shopkeeper smiled. ‘I didn’t know you was here. Nice to see you again.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Partridge. I love your shop, as I’m sure this young girl does.’ She smiled at the girl, who was standing transfixed, not taking her eyes off the posh girl in front of her. ‘Will you show me what you were interested in?’

  ‘Er …’ She glanced anxiously at the shopkeeper.

  ‘Show Miss Melrose,’ he snapped irritably.

  A grubby hand snaked out and whisked a book from the shelf. It was thrust towards Gertrude. ‘I’m saving up to buy this one, but I wanted to see if it was still here. I’m afraid someone might buy it before I’ve got enough money. It’s four pence.’ She gazed at the book and sighed. ‘Takes a lot of saving, that does.’

  Gertrude was absolutely astonished when she saw the title. ‘Shakespeare?’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’ The girl bristled with indignation. ‘I can read proper. And I like to learn about kings and stuff.’

  ‘I wasn’t implying that it was above your intelligence,’ she said hastily. ‘What else do you read?’

  She shrugged. ‘Anything really. I got favourites though. Dickens. I like him.’

  ‘So do I. Have you read anything by Jane Austen?’

  She shook her head. ‘Good, is she?’

  ‘Very.’ Gertrude turned to Mr Partridge. ‘Do you have one of her books?’

  Muttering under his breath, the owner disappeared behind a shelf.

  ‘What’s your name?’ Gertrude asked the girl while they waited.

  ‘Millie.’

  At that moment the door opened cautiously. A hand reached up to stop the bell from ringing, then a face peered in. ‘Is it safe, Millie?’

  ‘Come in Fred. I’m talking to this lady and he won’t chuck us out yet.’

  A painfully thin, gangling youth slid in. He looked slightly older than Millie and his dark eyes shone with intelligence. Sadness swept through Gertrude and she studied the two scruffy, under-nourished youngsters. They were obviously bright, but desperately poor.

  ‘Do you like to read as well?’ she asked him.

  Fred was studying her intently. His dark eyes were taking in every inch of her elegant outfit. He nodded. ‘I don’t like the kind of stuff Millie reads, but he’s got some smashing books in here about military battles and … birds, and things like that.’ He finished in a rush, looking slightly embarrassed.

  ‘Go and find a couple and let me see them.’

  ‘Er …’ Fred gave Millie a puzzled glance.

  ‘Go on.’ She gave him a shove. ‘Show the lady what you like.’

  At that moment the owner appeared and glared at the boy. ‘Not you as well.’ He managed a smile as he handed Gertrude Emma by Jane Austen. ‘This is the only one I’ve got at the moment.’

  ‘Splendid.’ When she held it out to Millie it was almost snatched out of her hand.

  The first page was devoured quickly and a smile appeared on Millie’s face. ‘Cor, this looks good. I ain’t never heard of her before.’

  The longing in her pale blue eyes was there again as she handed the book back to Gertrude. How terrible to be deprived of the pleasure of books because you couldn’t afford them. Gertrude handed Mr Partridge the Shakespeare book and Jane Austen. ‘Wrap these for Millie, please.’

  Fred appeared clutching two books, one of which was already open. ‘Look at this, Miss. Have you ever seen anything like it?’ He was pointing at a picture of a peacock with its wings displayed in all their glory. ‘I draw from pictures and then carve them in wood, but one day I’m gonna draw the real thing. We’re gonna get out of the slums and live in the country.’

  Millie nodded in agreement.

  He looked Gertrude straight in the eyes. ‘We got dreams, and one day we’ll make them come true.’

  ‘I’m sure you will.’ There was a lump in her throat as she took both books from Fred. The other one was King Solomon’s Mines by H. Rider Haggard.

  ‘You got a dream? Everyone should have a dream.’

  ‘I’ve never thought about it, but you’re quite right,’ she replied, handing the books to the bemused owner. ‘Wrap these for Fred, please.’

  ‘Er …’ Millie looked worried. ‘We ain’t got no money.’

  ‘I know, but I have. Wait for me.’

  Mr Partridge brightened up when he realised he was going to get a lucrative sale. The books were quickly wrapped and the money put in his till. He was smiling when he handed Gertrude the parcels.

  She thank
ed him and went over to the youngsters, who were waiting by the door for her. ‘Here you are. You must tell me what you think of them the next time we meet.’

  ‘Gosh,’ Millie said, her eyes shining. ‘You’re a real kind lady.’

  ‘We won’t forget this,’ Fred told her. ‘If there’s anything we can ever do for you, you just ask.’

  ‘Thank you, Fred. Now, there’s a nice little teashop along the road. I’d like you to join me for some refreshments.’

  Millie spluttered. ‘You mean that posh place with the blue tablecloths?’

  ‘Yes, that’s the one.’

  ‘Oh, they won’t let us in there!’

  ‘They will today. You’re my guests. Whatever you have will be paid for, and that makes you just as good as anyone else in there. My Aunt Hanna says you can walk in anywhere, no matter how elegant, if you have enough money in your purse.’

  The girl grinned. ‘I like the sound of your aunt.’

  ‘She’s a very unusual woman.’

  ‘So are you, Miss. There ain’t many of your class who’d take notice of the likes of us.’ Fred stopped at the door of the cafe and peered in. ‘They ain’t gonna be happy about you taking us in there.’

  ‘They won’t object.’ Her mouth set in a firm line. ‘My mother says I’m just like my Aunt Hanna.’

  That brought giggles from the youngsters and they were all smiling when they walked in.

  A look of horror appeared on the face of the owner and he tried to block the entrance, but Gertrude had been in the cafe many times and spoke with authority. ‘They are my guests. We’d like a table by the window.’

  It was obvious the last thing the owner wanted was to have two scruffy youngsters sitting in full view of the public. She didn’t give him a chance to object as she guided them towards a table in a prime position. As soon as they were seated, she smiled at the owner who was still hovering uncertainly. ‘We’d like a selection of sandwiches and cakes, please.’

  ‘Of course, Miss Melrose.’ A look of resignation crossed his face. He couldn’t refuse such a valued customer.

  They were served speedily and she watched as the hungry youngsters devoured every scrap of food.