by Dilly Court
‘You’ve missed a clip round the ear, young lady,’ Agnes said heavily. ‘You wouldn’t dare swear if your grandpa was in the room, nor any of your brothers.’
‘Oh, pooh.’ Molly waved the carrot at her. ‘They aren’t here so I can say what I like. If you don’t tell me everything at once, Lily, I’ll scream. By the way,’ she added, ‘did you know that there’s a ship on fire alongside Bell Wharf?’
Lily felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rising in her throat, but one look at Aggie’s set expression was enough to wipe away her smile. She nodded her head. ‘That’s where I found the injured man, and it just so happens that he’s French. Bill Hawkins helped me get him home and he thinks the chap must be a gentleman because he was wearing expensive boots.’
‘He could have stolen them,’ Aggie muttered, waddling over to the table and elbowing Molly out of the way. ‘Haven’t you got anything better to do than stand around chewing a carrot? Shift your lazy body, my girl. Let me get on with my dumplings or …’
‘Your brothers won’t be happy if their supper isn’t on the table when they get home,’ chorused Lily and Molly in unison.
‘Out of my kitchen,’ Aggie said, pointing to the door. ‘Out now, or there’s no supper for either of you.’
‘Anyone would think we were still kids,’ Molly grumbled as they hurried along the dark passageway towards the room that their mother had liked to call the drawing room, where she accompanied herself at the piano after dinner each evening, and entertained her female friends for afternoon tea. The piano had been sold long ago and the curtains were so faded that all the original vibrant colours were indistinguishable. The floorboards gleamed with wax polish but the carpet squares were threadbare and the chairs sagged, with horsehair erupting from the sofa in springy tufts.
Lily ran to the window which overlooked the side of the house facing downriver. ‘I can’t see a thing. It’s a real pea-souper out there. I do hope the boys are all right.’
Molly threw herself down on the sofa, lying back with her hands behind her head. ‘Did you know that the plaster is falling off the ceiling in great big dollops? I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole thing collapsed on us one evening when we’re sitting round the fire.’
‘Thanks for reminding me,’ Lily said, turning away from the dismal scene outside. ‘With all the excitement, I’d quite forgotten to light the wretched thing and it’s blooming freezing in here.’
Molly stretched luxuriously. ‘I don’t know what you do all day, Lily. There am I slaving over smelly tubs of dye and soggy silk and all you have to do is keep house.’ She ducked as Lily tossed a cushion at her. ‘Missed! You never could throw straight. Now, tell me about this foreign man in the attic.’
Lily went to kneel on the scrap of carpet in front of the hearth. She had cleaned the grate early that morning and she had laid the fire so that all it needed now was to put a light to it. She struck a lucifer on the fire surround and held it to the twists of newspaper nestling beneath the kindling. ‘I don’t know anything about him, except that he must have been on the ship before it caught fire. His jacket was singed and his hands were in a terrible state. I couldn’t bear to look.’
‘Did he speak to you? Was he young and good-looking or was he old and ugly? Come on, Lily, you can do better than that.’
Lily sat back on her haunches, watching the golden flames lick around the glistening black lumps of coal. ‘I think he is quite young, but his face was very dirty so it was difficult to see what he looked like. He had black hair, I think, and blue eyes or maybe they were grey. He said a few words in English but he had a strong foreign accent.’
‘So how do you know he is French?’
‘Bill thinks he came from the French schooner, and Nell said he’s definitely a Frenchman. She’s the schoolteacher so she should know.’
Molly snapped into a sitting position and slid off the sofa. ‘I’m going to take a look at this chap. Are you coming with me?’
‘I don’t know. Nell said …’
‘Never mind her. She can’t tell us what to do. Are you coming or not?’ Molly paused as she headed for the door, her delicate dark eyebrows raised and a mischievous smile flirting with her lips. ‘I dare you.’
Lily rose to her feet, shaking out her crumpled skirts. ‘You ought to wash first. Your hands are green and there are red spots of dye on your cheeks. You’ll frighten the poor chap to death.’
‘Nonsense. If he’s off his head with fever he’ll just think I’m a part of his bad dream. I’ll race you to the attic.’ Molly opened the door but she closed it hurriedly, turning to Lily with her finger raised to her lips. ‘Stay where you are. Dr Macpherson is just going upstairs with Nell.’
‘I wonder if the boys have got the fire under control,’ Lily said anxiously.
Molly made her way back to the sofa. ‘You worry too much, Lil. They’re big enough to look after themselves and it’s only a rotten old boat that’s gone up in flames. Now it would be different if it was a silk warehouse or the dye works. I would worry then.’
‘How do you manage to bring everything down to your level?’
‘I dunno. Being selfish takes a lot of effort, but I just think of me all the time and I find that works a treat.’
‘You know that’s not true,’ Lily said, giggling. ‘You can be quite thoughtful when you try.’
‘And you insist on seeing the best in everyone. You’re doomed to huge disappointments in life, Lil. You need to be more like me. Expect the worst of people and then it’s a bonus if they turn out not so bad after all.’ Molly lay back on the sofa and closed her eyes. ‘Wake me up when it’s supper time.’
‘I can’t just sit around and do nothing. I’m going upstairs to see if Nell needs anything.’
Molly opened one eye. ‘You hate the sight of blood and gore. You’ll only faint or throw up all over him.’
‘I’ll just have to make an effort. I can’t spend the rest of my life being squeamish.’ Lily made for the door and was about to leave the room when Molly called her back.
‘Wait for me. I’m coming too.’
‘You’re not so selfish after all,’ Lily said, smiling. ‘You do care what happens to the poor fellow.’
‘If you’re so interested in this foreigner he must be quite a catch.’ Molly jumped to her feet and danced across the floor to push past Lily. ‘I’m not leaving him to our resident ministering angel or my pretty little sister. If he’s rich and handsome then I care deeply.’ She opened the door and crossed the hall, pausing to light a candle before taking the stairs two at a time.
Lily followed at a more sedate pace, thinking that the world had gone quite mad, and all because of a foreigner who wore expensive boots. She caught up with Molly outside the attic room. The door had been left ajar and Molly cocked her head on one side, straining her ears to hear what was being said inside.
A howl of pain made them both jump and they clung to each other, waiting for the next scream, but there was silence. Molly pushed the door open and they crept into the room. Nell was holding a candle to light the doctor’s efforts as he bandaged the injured limb, but the patient appeared to be unconscious. Lily clenched her fists, praying that she would not faint as she fought down a feeling of nausea at the sight of an enamel bowl filled with water and bloodied scraps of cloth.
Molly moved closer to the bed. ‘Who is he, Nell?’
‘Go away,’ Nell hissed. ‘And take Lily with you. I don’t want her swooning or worse.’
Dr Macpherson looked up from his task and he frowned. ‘This isn’t a sideshow, young Molly. But if you want to be useful go and fetch some brandy and a glass.’
‘Isn’t it a bit late for that, doctor? He’s dead to the world.’
‘It’s not for him, you silly girl, it’s for me.’
‘I’ll go,’ Lily said, eager to be away from the stench of blood and burnt flesh. ‘I know where Aggie hides the medicinal brandy.’
‘Bring the bottle,’ Dr Macpherson said g
ruffly. ‘I don’t want one of Miss Aggie’s mean little nips that wouldn’t fill a hollow tooth.’
Molly leaned over the inert figure on the bed. ‘I wish he’d open his eyes. I’m sure he’s quite handsome underneath all that soot and grime. Shall I wash his face?’
‘Leave him alone,’ Nell said sternly. ‘You can make yourself useful and get rid of these soiled rags. Fetch me some warm water and fresh cloths.’
‘Come along, Molly,’ Lily urged. ‘I’ll fetch the brandy and there’s a sheet that’s past mending. I’ll tear that up if you’ll see to the nasty stuff.’
‘Oh, all right. But I don’t see why I have to do the dirty work.’
Dr Macpherson cast a reproving glance in her direction. ‘You look as though you’ve already been in a bloodbath, lassie. We won’t notice the difference. Now get along with you. I have to attend to the poor fellow’s burns and it isn’t a fit sight for unmarried girls.’
Lily tugged at Molly’s sleeve but it seemed that her sister was determined to have the last word. ‘Nell isn’t married and she’s only two years older than me.’
‘Miss Nell is a level-headed young woman, most unlikely to have a fit of the vapours. If she wasn’t gainfully employed as a teacher I would be pleased to have her as my nurse. Now leave us, the pair of you. This young man needs my full attention.’
‘It’s not fair,’ Molly said as she and Lily left the room. ‘I want to be there when he opens his eyes. If I was the first one he saw when he came to he would be sure to fall in love with me.’
‘He might die of fright if he saw you splattered with red and green dye.’
‘Well I won’t have the chance to find out since it will be Nell he’ll see first, and she’s the beauty of the family. Everyone says so. You and I are just pretty, although I am prettier than you. I take after Ma and you and Nell are more like Pa.’
Lily acknowledged this with a nod of her head. ‘You are very striking, Molly. And you do have lovely copper-coloured hair just like Ma. Mine is just a pale copy.’
‘No,’ Molly said judicially, angling her head with a thoughtful frown. ‘I won’t allow that, Lil. Yours is quite pleasing to the eye, in fact it’s your best feature. I’d say it was more gold than red, and I’m getting to be an expert in colours and dyes.’ She held up her stained fingers, wiggling them and pulling a face which made Lily laugh. ‘I’m an artist just like Ma.’
‘I can’t exactly remember her face,’ Lily said wistfully. ‘It’s all misty and faded in my mind and that scares me. I don’t want to forget her.’
Molly gave her a gentle shove in the back. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake don’t get all mushy and sentimental. She’s not dead. She’s probably living a life of luxury with that bounder she ran off with. All I meant to say was that I take after her in looks and talent; I’m not like her in other ways.’
Lily did not bother to argue, although privately she thought that Molly was exactly like their mother. She ran lightly down the stairs and was met in the hall by a gust of cold air and the choking odour of the fog and the acrid smell of burning as her brothers entered the house. Matt closed the front door, putting his shoulder against it. ‘Damn door – I must remember to shave a bit off it.’
‘It’s just the damp from the river,’ Mark said, shrugging off his sodden jacket. ‘The wood will shrink back when the weather improves.’
Luke slapped him on the back. ‘Good old Mark, always the practical engineer.’
‘Well someone has to have their feet firmly on the ground. Your head is filled with all that poetry stuff you’re so fond of, and Matt uses muscle to solve every problem.’
Matt shook his head. ‘Shut up the pair of you. I’m cold, tired and filthy. All I want is to get out of these wet clothes and put some hot food in my belly.’ He took off his jacket and handed it to Lily, who was hovering by his side. ‘Hang it in the scullery for me, there’s a good girl.’
‘And mine,’ Mark said, draping his coat over her outstretched arms.
Luke turned to Molly, peering at her in the candlelight. ‘You look like a goblin, Moll.’ He thrust his wet garment at her. ‘Here, make yourself useful and see to this for me.’
Molly dropped it with a disgusted snort. ‘Do it yourself, Luke Larkin. I’m not your slave.’
‘Help your sister,’ Matt said sternly. ‘You can’t expect Lily to do everything.’
‘More fool her if she waits on three lazy lumps like you,’ Molly said, tossing her head. ‘Anyway, how do you manage when you’re on night watch and have to sleep at the fire station?’
‘We look after ourselves, of course,’ Mark said, grinning. ‘But now we’re off duty we’ve got three lovely sisters to wait on us hand and foot, which is just how it should be.’
Molly narrowed her green eyes, glaring at him like an angry cat. ‘I’ve been working hard all day too and now I’m going for a wash. I don’t want our Frenchman to see me looking like a fright.’ She poked her tongue out at Luke before heading off towards the kitchen.
‘Stop her, Mark,’ Matt called out. ‘She’ll use all the hot water on the stove, and I’ve had a bellyful of cold water today. I’m not washing in it.’
Mark strode after Molly and Lily heard a muffled shriek as he caught up with her.
‘If we had the money we could have a proper bathroom,’ Lily said wistfully. ‘Well-off people have rooms just for washing and bathing. They just turn on a tap to fill the bath, and they have things called geysers to heat the water.’
‘Yes,’ Matt said, hooking his arm around her shoulders. ‘And we’ve been called to several house fires where those contraptions have exploded.’
Luke held his hands out to Lily. ‘C’mon, Lil. Give me those wet things; you’re sagging at the knees.’
She flashed him a grateful smile. ‘It’s all right, Luke. You go and get dry. I can manage.’
‘You shouldn’t let Molly get away with it,’ he said, frowning. ‘She’s a proper little minx and she should do her share of the chores.’
‘I’ll have a word with her after supper.’ Matt sat down on a rather rickety hall chair and began unlacing his boots. ‘So what was all that about a French chap, Lily? Or was it just Molly’s imagination running wild as usual?’
Lily glanced anxiously at Luke. She knew she would be in trouble with Matt if he discovered that she had followed them to the scene of the fire. He was very strict about that sort of thing. ‘I – er – Bill Hawkins brought him here,’ she said, omitting her part in the man’s rescue. ‘The Frenchman must have come from the blazing ship.’
‘That’s right, Matt,’ Luke said, with a conspiratorial wink aimed at Lily. ‘I saw the fellow staggering about on the foreshore and the ship was a Frenchie, wasn’t it?’
Matt kicked off one boot and began unlacing the other. ‘It was, but I don’t know the details yet. I’ll have to get them from the owner so that I can write my report. The crew were a mixed bunch but mostly French, I think, and none of them spoke English. They were all taken to the Seamen’s Mission.’
‘Except one,’ Lily added. ‘Bill carried him up to the attic. Nell and the doctor are with him now.’
‘Bloody hell, Lily. You shouldn’t have sent for Macpherson,’ Matt said, rising to his feet. ‘We can’t afford to pay his fee. The padre at the Mission would have seen to all that.’
‘The Frenchman has money,’ Lily said hastily. ‘All it’s cost us is a nip of brandy for the doctor.’
Matt headed for the stairs, his coarse woollen socks leaving wet prints on the floorboards. ‘And the old soak will have finished the bottle by now unless I’m very much mistaken. I’m going up to sort him out.’
Luke and Lily exchanged worried glances. ‘Oh, dear. Perhaps I shouldn’t have told him that,’ Lily murmured. ‘I always seem to say the wrong thing.’
‘Don’t mind him, ducks,’ Luke said, wresting the damp coats from her arms. ‘I could do with a cup of hot, sweet tea and a nip of brandy in it wouldn’t go amiss, that’s if th
e doctor has left us any.’
He strolled off in the direction of the kitchen but Lily hesitated at the foot of the stairs, gazing dreamily up into the darkness. Her active imagination had been fired by the mysterious foreigner who it seemed was not just a common seaman. Was he the owner of the ship? Or had he been a passenger; a man of business perhaps, who had come to London to negotiate a lucrative deal? Taking the exotic stranger into the house was the most exciting thing that had happened since Ma ran off with the artist.
Her candle guttered and went out, but she did not dare light another one for fear of being accused of extravagance. Nell kept a strict eye on the housekeeping and she frowned upon waste of any kind. It was almost pitch dark in the hall, but Lily could have found her way blindfold.
A cloud of steam erupted from the kitchen as she opened the door. Pans of water were heating on the top of the range and a fierce argument was going on as Molly and Mark fought over a kettle filled with hot water. Lily was faced with the sight of Aggie brandishing the rolling pin and threatening to knock their silly heads together if they didn’t stop behaving like a pair of five-year-olds. Luke had stripped to the waist and was standing in front of the range, drying himself with a scrap of towelling, although it did little to remove the streaks of soot from his torso. His lips were moving silently, which made Lily smile. She knew that he was reciting a piece of poetry as he always did when family squabbles became too much for him and he needed to retire into his own private world. He was no coward, but he would back away from a fight unless it was the last resort. Luke was the peacemaker in the family, Mark the joker and Matt the undisputed leader. Her brothers were so different in their characters that sometimes it seemed hard to believe that they were so closely related.
‘You are no gentleman, Mark,’ Molly shrieked as he won the tussle for the kettle and carried his trophy into the scullery.
‘And you ain’t a lady,’ Mark called over his shoulder. ‘You use language that would make a sailor blush.’
Scarlet-cheeked and patently seething, Molly went to stand by the scullery door, leaning against the jamb with her arms folded across her chest. ‘Well, if I do, it’s because I learnt it from my brothers.’