by Dilly Court
Lily paused with the spoon halfway to her lips. ‘You must go home, Prissy. The money we had from the pawnbroker won’t go very far, and I can’t pay your wages. You should go back to your family.’
‘Not likely. You need looking after, and then there’s the missis; how will you manage her without me to help you?’
‘I don’t know, and that’s the honest truth.’
‘Well, first thing you do when you’ve eaten all your dinner is go round to see Mr Gabriel. You got to tell him what’s happened. He’s your stepbrother so he’s bound to help.’
‘He rents one room in a lodging house, Prissy. We can’t go there.’
‘Then it’s up to him to find a place for you and your ma. That’s all there is to it.’ Sounding supremely confident, Prissy mopped up the last of her soup with a crust of bread and popped it into her mouth.
Lily knew what Prissy had said made sense but she was reluctant to go cap in hand to Gabriel. A marriage contract between Ma and Everard might make her related to Gabriel in law, but that did not make her his responsibility. She would not and could not in all conscience impose on his good nature.
‘So are you going round to Gower Street then?’
Lily looked up with a start as Prissy’s voice intruded on her thoughts. ‘To Gower Street?’
‘To Mr Gabriel’s lodgings,’ Prissy said patiently. ‘He’s got to know what’s happened to his old man, even if you’re too proud to ask for his help.’
‘That’s not true,’ Lily began but Prissy silenced her with a frown.
‘Ain’t it? I seen the look on your face when I mentioned his name. What else are you going to do? I doubt if that family of yours will be rushing round to help.’
Lily was about to protest when one of the bells rang to summon a servant.
‘That’s your Ma’s room,’ Prissy said unnecessarily. ‘I’d best go to her and see what she wants.’
‘No, I will.’ Lily leapt to her feet as the bell continued to jangle with such violence that it seemed in danger of breaking the spring. The sound echoed in Lily’s head, bringing back memories of the fire station and her brothers racing into danger in order to save lives. She ran from the room and lifting her skirts above her knees she took the stairs two at a time, half expecting to find her mother prepared to leap from the window or in a drug-induced stupor, having drunk the whole bottle of laudanum. Flinging the bedroom door open, Lily found her sprawled on the bed tugging at the bell pull.
‘Is that you, Parsons?’ Charlotte peered anxiously at Lily as if trying to focus her gaze.
‘It’s Lily, Ma.’
‘I must get up and go to the prison. I want to be with Everard.’ Charlotte raised herself on her elbow only to collapse again. ‘My head is spinning.’
Uncertain whether she wanted to laugh at her own folly or to cry with relief, Lily went over to the bed and eased the embroidered bell pull from her mother’s grasp. ‘It’s the laudanum making you drowsy, Ma. You’ve had a shock, and you need to rest.’
‘They’ll release him soon,’ Charlotte mused dazedly. ‘We must get the best lawyer in town.’
‘Yes, of course we will.’ Lily filled a glass with water and added a few drops of laudanum. ‘Sip this and you’ll feel better.’
Charlotte dashed the glass from Lily’s hand. ‘No, I won’t take the stuff. I need a clear head. Ring for Parsons, I want to get dressed.’
‘Parsons has left, and so have the other servants. They’ve all gone except for Prissy.’
‘Then send her to me. I must go to Everard, although I doubt if they’ll let me see him, but I must try.’
‘You’re his wife, Ma. They let families live in the debtors’ jail, but that’s not for you and Everard wouldn’t want you to see him in such a sorry state.’
‘We’re not married,’ Charlotte moaned. ‘At least not legally. We pledged our vows to each other in the moonlight on Hampstead Heath with our friends dancing beneath the stars. The wine flowed and a fiddler played a merry tune. It was so romantic.’
Lily stared at her in astonishment. ‘You’re not married?’
‘In the eyes of God we are man and wife; we just never thought to have our union blessed by the Church or acknowledged in law.’
‘Then Gabriel is not my stepbrother?’
Charlotte gazed at Lily with bleary eyes. ‘What are you talking about? What difference does it make?’
‘None,’ Lily said hastily. ‘Lie still and rest, Ma. We’ll visit Everard, but not today.’
‘Why not? I want to see him.’
‘The bailiffs will be back with a court order evicting us from the property,’ Lily explained patiently. ‘I need to find somewhere for us to live before we start thinking about lawyers and visiting Everard in jail.’
‘Give me some laudanum,’ Charlotte moaned. ‘And a glass of Madeira or brandy. I don’t mind which.’
Lily refilled the glass with water and added more laudanum. ‘Drink this and I’ll see what I can find.’
Charlotte took the glass and drained it in one gulp. ‘This isn’t happening to me. It’s a nightmare and I’ll wake up soon and find everything back to normal.’ She closed her eyes.
Lily crept out of the room and made her way slowly downstairs. Her mother’s revelation had shocked her. She was aware that the artistic set adopted a bohemian style of living, but she had been brought up to follow Aggie’s strict moral code and the fear of hellfire preached at Sunday school. She trembled to think how Nell and Matt would take the news that their mother had been living in sin all these years. Molly and Mark were the rebels, who either slept through church services or managed to slip away unnoticed before the sermon began. They would probably think that Ma was a modern woman and extremely daring. Luke would simply shrug his broad shoulders and think it romantic; he would probably write a few verses on the subject and then forget it as another inspiration filled his head. Lily paused halfway down the staircase, thinking of the brother to whom she felt the closest. She wondered if Luke had managed to persuade Matt to give him back his job, and if he had been allowed to remain in the family home. She hoped so for his sake.
She had just reached the bottom stair when someone hammered on the door. Her heart gave an uncomfortable leap in her chest. It must be the bailiffs returning and that meant they would be forced to leave the house right away. Her instinct was to ignore the person rapping on the knocker. She wanted to shoot the bolts and lock the windows to keep out intruders, but she knew it would be useless. She opened the door, peering out into the winter sunlight.
‘Lily, I’ve just heard the news.’ Gabriel brushed past her, entering the house on a gust of cold air. ‘Perks came to see me and luckily found me at home. He says the bailiffs have taken everything including the horse and the carriage. Is it true?’
Her throat constricted and suddenly she wanted to cry, but she resisted the temptation to throw herself into Gabriel’s arms and weep into the soft cashmere of his overcoat. She nodded her head, unable to speak. He took her by the shoulders, looking anxiously into her eyes. ‘You poor dear, are you all right? It must have been a dreadful shock.’
She nodded again.
He put his arm around her shoulders, leading her to the morning parlour and uttering an exclamation of surprise and horror to see it cold and bare, stripped of all its finery. ‘The bastards,’ he breathed. ‘Have they done this to all the rooms?’
‘I – I think so. I haven’t been to my bedchamber, but they’ve taken everything that doesn’t belong to the landlord. They’ve arrested your pa and taken him to Cold Bath Fields Prison.’
‘The devil they have.’ Gabriel took off his hat and gloves, setting them down on one of the remaining chairs. ‘This is a bad show. How has Cara taken it?’
‘It’s Charlotte. I can’t stand all this silly pretence and affectation. Ma’s name is Charlotte and she’s not even married to your pa, Gabriel. She’s Charlotte Larkin and she’s lying on her bed drugged with laudanum. I don’t know what I’m going to
do with her, or where we’ll live. All the servants have gone except for Prissy, and the bailiffs will be coming back with a court order to turn us out onto the streets.’ It had all come out in a rush and Lily stopped for breath, biting her lip. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fling it all at you like that.’
He pressed her gently down onto the sofa. ‘My dear girl, I’m so sorry. If only I’d been here I might have done something to help.’
Lily fished in her pocket for a handkerchief and, finding none, she sniffed. ‘There’s nothing you could have done. I tried to raise some money in the pawnshop but it wasn’t enough. It will buy us a room for the next few nights but after that I just don’t know what we’ll do.’
Gabriel sat down beside her, taking a clean handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it into her hand. ‘Wipe your eyes, Lily. I’m here to help my little sister. This is all my father’s fault and I’ll do my best to look after you and Car— I mean Charlotte.’
‘I’m not your sister,’ Lily muttered into the fold of the hanky.
‘And I’m very glad we’re not related,’ Gabriel said, chuckling. ‘No, don’t glare at me like that, Lily. I mean it kindly. I’d much rather be your very good friend than your brother.’
‘Don’t joke,’ Lily said crossly. ‘It’s no laughing matter.’
‘Mrs Lovelace would certainly agree with you on that.’ He rose to his feet and went to stand with his back to the empty grate. ‘I’m afraid we are both homeless, Lily. The old girl’s given me my marching orders, having overhead Perks announcing the fact that my pa has been arrested for debt and flung in jail. She said she runs a respectable lodging house and can’t have people like me bringing discredit to her business. So you see, my dear, we’re both in the same boat, and we’ll look after each other.’
‘I can’t go anywhere without Ma, and Prissy refuses to leave me.’
‘There’s room for everyone. As a matter of fact I’ve been thinking about a move for some time and this has just brought matters to a head. It’s not ideal but I know of a house in Cock and Hoop Yard, Spitalfields. It’s not the most salubrious of areas but the rent is cheap and there is room enough for us all. I met the owner in a pub; he seems like a decent sort of chap, if a bit eccentric. I think you’ll like him, Lily.’
‘What sort of house is it, and what is the area like? Ma won’t want to live in a slum.’
‘Charlotte has no say in this, Lily. She can go and live with my father in the debtors’ jail if she objects to my choice. I love her dearly, but I’m not putting up with her megrims. She’ll have to earn her living like the rest of us.’
‘But that’s not fair, Gabriel. What can she do – and for that matter what can I do – to earn money?’
‘I’m thinking of starting up an art school, but we’ll work it out as we go along. My income is sufficient to keep us from the poorhouse for the time being at least, and if my plans work out we’ll be comfortably off, and we may be able to move to a better part of town. What do you say?’
The move to Cock and Hoop Yard took place that evening under the cover of darkness. The bailiffs had given Charlotte and Lily until next day to remove themselves from the house in Keppel Street, but neither Lily nor Gabriel thought it a good idea to wait until they were officially made homeless. With a mixture of what appeared to Lily to be luck combined with dogged determination, Gabriel had made all the arrangements for their move, including hiring two hackney carriages to take them to their new home. Gabriel, Charlotte and Lily travelled in the first cab, with Prissy and their luggage following in the second vehicle.
Lily was unfamiliar with Spitalfields and the area around the East India Depot, but she had vague recollections of the Minories and the Tower of London, which she had once visited on a family outing before the fatal day when Ma had left home never to return. Glancing at her mother slumped in the corner of the carriage, Lily felt nothing but pity. All the anger and resentment had faded as she had begun to understand her mother’s love for Everard and her desperate need to express herself in art. This, coupled with a yearning to be surrounded by beautiful things, had led ultimately to her downfall. Until this moment Lily had not fully understood why Matt and Nell had tried so hard to keep her from fulfilling her desire to paint and draw, but now she could see something of herself in their mother, and suddenly everything became clear. She might disagree with their intransigent attitude but she could sympathise with their wish to keep her safe from temptation.
She had had plenty of time to think since she had been forced to leave her family in Cock Hill, and she realised that all their current troubles had begun with the fire at Bell Wharf. The arrival of the injured Frenchman in their midst had started a chain of events that had led them to the dire straits in which they now found themselves, and from which it seemed there was no happy ending. She had fallen headlong in love with Armand, but so had Nell and Molly. If he were to choose her above her sisters there would be even more heartache and sorrow heaped upon her suffering family. She closed her eyes, conjuring up a vision of herself and Armand, arm in arm, walking down the aisle with Nell and Molly as her bridesmaids. The church was cold and the light subdued but as they stepped outside into the sunshine and she looked up into her new husband’s face – it was not Armand looking down at her with an adoring expression. Her breath caught in her throat and she opened her eyes with a start. She glanced anxiously at Gabriel but his attention was fixed on keeping Charlotte from slipping off the seat as the carriage swung into Houndsditch.
Lily turned her head to stare out of the window in an attempt to clear her mind of disturbing thoughts and visions. She loved Armand; of course she did. She could not be so fickle in her feelings that she had given her heart to another man. Could she? She took deep breaths, inhaling the familiar scents of the Orient, the Spice Islands and the West Indies that wafted from the warehouses through the open carriage window. She knew now that they were close to the river. She had grown up with the aroma of exotic spices, rum and molasses and the toffee-like smell of raw tobacco emanating from the ships tied up alongside the wharves. The fragrances, then as now, were adulterated by chimney smoke, soot, sewage and stinking river mud. Like all her memories of the past, this one was bittersweet but achingly familiar, and made her yearn for days gone by when life had seemed so simple.
The pounding of the horse’s hooves slowed and came to a halt. Lily could see a tall building shored up with wooden struts and she hoped that this was not the haven that Gabriel had promised them, but then, with a feeling of relief, she realised that it was the back of a pub and the sign above the door bore the legend The Nag’s Head.
‘We’re here,’ Gabriel said, opening the door and stepping out onto the pavement. Having helped Lily alight from the carriage, he produced a large iron key from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. ‘It’s the first house on the left; the one with the gas lamp on the wall.’
She paused for a moment, taking in her surroundings. Her first impression was of loud noise emanating from the pub. She could hear the scraping of a bow across the strings of a fiddle, and someone bawling the words of a popular song as they attempted to make themselves heard above the din of raised voices, laughter and the clink of glasses and pewter tankards. A burly sailor lurched out of the door on a gust of warm air laden with the smell of ale, strong liquor and tobacco smoke. He staggered past Lily, touching his cap as he made his unsteady way towards the docks.
Following the direction that Gabriel had indicated, Lily realised that the house in Cock and Hoop Yard was the first in a terrace of three-storey dwellings set around a narrow courtyard. The gaslight mounted on the end wall of what was to be their new home illuminated a neat frontage with a mansard roof and a door facing the street painted green to match the shutters on the downstairs window. The house looked small and friendly despite the raffish neighbourhood. Lily put the key in the lock and it groaned and grated, refusing at first to turn, but with a little effort she managed to open the door. It was dark insi
de and she caught her breath as the stale smell of dust, soot and cold cooking fat assailed her nostrils. A spider’s web brushed her face and caught on the brim of her bonnet like a veil. With a shudder she brushed it away, hoping that the spider was not lurking somewhere in its depths. She stood aside as Gabriel carried Charlotte into the house.
‘Too much laudanum, I think,’ he said cheerfully. ‘At least she’s quiet now.’
‘I can’t see a thing,’ Lily whispered. She was afraid to speak loudly in case her voice summoned up the ghost of some past occupant who resented their intrusion.
‘Feel in my pocket,’ Gabriel said, shifting Charlotte so that she was draped over his shoulder. ‘I’ve some vestas and a couple of candles which I thought might come in useful.’
Lily found what she was looking for and lit one of the candles, holding it above her head as she took in her new surroundings. Charlotte moaned and made a vague movement of her hands as if protesting at being held upside down, although she was not fully conscious.
‘Lead the way upstairs,’ Gabriel said softly. ‘I checked with the landlord and the rooms are furnished after a fashion, but at least there are beds, and Prissy is following with the bedding.’
‘I’m here,’ Prissy called from the doorway. ‘The cabby is helping me in with the things but he wants paying afore you disappear.’
Gabriel turned to Lily with a grin. ‘My pocket again, Lily. The other side this time.’
Lily found the leather pouch, which was reassuringly heavy, and she gave Prissy enough to pay the cab fare with a generous tip. Leaving her capable young maid to organise the luggage, Lily led the way upstairs. Their footsteps echoed loudly on the bare treads, creating the impression that the small house was filled with a marching band of ghostly entities. Lily shivered. It seemed even colder inside than out. Something furry ran across her feet, and she stifled a scream, but she continued upwards determined not to be beaten by the cold and dark. In the morning things would look much better, she thought, hopefully. Tomorrow she would laugh at her unfounded fears. She reached the first landing. ‘Which room, Gabriel?’