Tilly True

by Dilly Court

  ‘Barney, my dear fellow, have you just escaped from a minstrel show?’ Jessie swept down the stairs as if making a grand entrance on stage.

  Tilly felt Francis stiffen and she could see a pulse throbbing at his temple. Even covered in soot, he somehow managed to look aristocratic and sanctimonious. Harriet still looked scared.

  ‘You look wonderful, as always, my dear Jessie.’ Moving swiftly to the foot of the stairs, Barney offered his arm to Jessie, who allowed him to lead her to the salon. Following them into the room Tilly was relieved, if only for Harriet’s sake, to find it empty. Had Miss Florrie been languishing on the sofa with her aged admirer or Miss Dolly wearing one of her low-cut gowns and smoking her endless supply of cigarettes, then it would have been highly embarrassing for everyone.

  ‘So, my dear, Barney, what can I do for you and your – friends?’ Jessie sank gracefully onto one of the sofas, eyeing their dishevelled appearance with an amused smile. ‘Am I to keep guessing then? I know, you’ve all been to a fancy dress party dressed as sweeps.’

  Francis puffed out his cheeks and Harriet opened her mouth to reply but Barney quelled her with a warning look. ‘Very funny, Jessie. You always had a wonderful sense of humour but, as you can see, my brother the Reverend Francis Palgrave and my sister, Miss Harriet Palgrave, have suffered a disastrous fire in the vicarage.’

  ‘And what about the young trollop?’ Jessie pointed a finger at Tilly, her smile fading.

  ‘Here! Who are you calling a trollop?’ Tilly leapt forward, shaking off Barney’s restraining hand. ‘I was a good girl until you sold me to that randy old codger. You ought to be . . .’

  Clamping his hand over Tilly’s mouth, Barney wrapped his arm around her pinning her flailing arms to her side. ‘That’s another matter. In fact you owe Miss True much more than a night’s lodging, Jessie. I may not be a practising lawyer now, but I still have contacts in the family law firm. I know that Tilly would have a good case to sue you for false imprisonment and causing her grievous bodily harm. The magistrates are just looking for an excuse to close you down, my dear, so I think a night’s lodging is not too much to ask.’

  ‘You always was a bastard,’ Jessie said, shrugging her shoulders. ‘All right, just one night, but don’t expect it to be the Savoy and I want you all gone first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Actually, my dear, I won’t be staying,’ Barney said, releasing Tilly. ‘I have to get back to the barracks, but I’ll be back in the morning to collect them.’

  ‘That’s simply not on,’ Francis protested. ‘You can’t expect me to stay in a – a place like this. What would the Missionary Society say? What would the bishop say?’

  ‘Which bishop might that be, dear?’ Showing a sudden interest, Jessie got to her feet. ‘There are several ecclesiastical gents what takes advantage of my young ladies’ good natures.’

  Harriet giggled nervously but, receiving a stern look from Francis, she bit her lip and stared down at her feet.

  ‘You are insufferable, madam,’ Francis said, running his finger round the inside of his dog collar. ‘Barnaby, this won’t do.’

  ‘Sorry old chap, but unless you can conjure up the funds for a hotel room, there’s nothing else I can do for you until the morning.’

  ‘Well, I ain’t staying and that’s for sure.’ Tilly grabbed Barney’s arm with both hands. ‘I’m not spending another night in this drum. Who knows what might creep into my bed with her in charge? I’m coming with you.’

  Attempting to prise her fingers off his sleeve, Barney frowned. ‘My dear girl, I can’t take you back to the barracks. For one thing it’s a devilish long walk, and for another it’s not allowed.’

  ‘I don’t care. I’m not staying here and that’s that. You can drop me off at the Bootles’ if you like; I’m sure old Bootle wouldn’t turn me out in the street at this time of night, but I ain’t staying and that’s that.’

  ‘Oh, Tilly, please don’t leave me in this place.’ Harriet’s eyes filled with tears. ‘You can share my bed if you like, but just don’t leave me here.’

  ‘No, Harriet.’ Francis raised his hand. ‘Don’t beg. It’s unladylike.’ Turning to Jessie, he steepled his fingers, looking at her as if he were about to preach a sermon. ‘My good woman, I have no alternative but to accept your offer of hospitality for just one night for my sister and myself. Tilly can do as she pleases and, quite frankly, I would prefer it if she did not associate with Harriet as she is a decidedly bad influence.’

  ‘Who are you calling a bad influence?’ Releasing Barney’s arm, Tilly took a step towards Francis. ‘You are a stuck up old prig and you can kiss my . . .’

  ‘All right, Tilly.’ Before she could finish the sentence, Barney had taken her by the shoulders, propelling her towards the door. ‘I think perhaps you’d better come with me before you cause any more trouble.’

  ‘And don’t bring her back,’ Jessie called after them.

  In the hall, they almost fell over Dolly, who had quite obviously been bending down with her ear to the keyhole. Taking a fag end from behind her ear, she stuck it between her painted lips and smiled up at Barney. ‘Got a light, dearie?’

  Pulling a wry face and glancing down at his sooty uniform, Barney smiled ruefully. ‘I think we’ve had enough of smoke and flames for one evening, Dolly.’

  ‘You do look a bit crispy round the edges, darling,’ Dolly said, angling her head. ‘You ain’t staying then?’

  ‘Not tonight.’

  Winking at Tilly, Dolly took the cigarette from her mouth. ‘I see you got your man then, ducks. Good for you.’ Seeing Wilson hovering by the front door, Dolly gave her a cheery wave. ‘I’ll be in the parlour when my nine o’clock gent arrives. Ta-ta, Barney. You take good care of my mate Tilly.’

  Outside on the pavement, the lamplighter was lighting the last lamp in the court and sounds of music, laughter and loud voices emanated from the pub as the door opened and closed with the constant flow of customers.

  ‘Well,’ Barney said, frowning. ‘What am I going to do with you, young Tilly?’

  ‘I can sleep in a cupboard. It wouldn’t be the first time.’

  ‘Thanks to the pickpockets, I’m flat broke. I can’t even hire a cab, so we’ll have to walk.’

  ‘You’re taking me to the barracks?’

  ‘I can’t see any other alternative. Bootle might be willing to take you in but I’ll bet Mrs Bootle would have something to say about that.’

  Falling into step by his side, Tilly shot him a glance beneath her lashes. ‘I thought you said women wasn’t allowed in your quarters.’

  ‘Neither are they, Tilly my love, but when did I ever obey the rules?’

  ‘It’s just for one night, mind you,’ Tilly said, slipping her hand through his arm as they passed a group of doubtful-looking characters lurking in the shadows. ‘Tomorrow I’ll be off to my new job.’

  One of the youths took a menacing step forward, stopping in front of Barney and demanding money. Picking him up as though he weighed less than a feather, Barney deposited him in the doorway with his less adventurous mates. Ignoring their boos and whistles, Barney tucked Tilly’s hand back into the warm crook of his arm. ‘Take no notice of them, they’re just boys. Now tell me about this new job.’

  ‘I been offered the position of lady type-writer at the bank.’

  ‘Really, and which bank is that?’

  Not knowing any banks except one, Tilly had no hesitation in replying. ‘Why, the Bank of England, of course.’

  Barney’s laughter echoed off the tall buildings in Fleet Street, causing a group of bustling newsmen to pause for a moment and stare at them.

  ‘Tilly, you are such a little liar. I do love you.’

  Coming to a sudden halt in a pool of light issuing from a naphtha flare on a tea stall, Tilly looked up into Barney’s face, searching his eyes for confirmation. ‘You do?’

  ‘Of course I do. You are priceless.’

  ‘Go on, guv,’ called the stallh
older, passing a mug of tea to a customer. ‘Give her a kiss.’

  Holding her face up and closing her eyes, Tilly could hardly breathe as she felt the warmth of his body enveloping her . . . or was it the steam from the tea urn? Opening one eye, she saw that Barney was staring at her with a look half amused and half surprised. Bending down, he brushed her lips with a kiss. Everyone standing round the tea stall clapped and one man cheered.

  ‘Give her a good one for me, mate.’

  Hooking his arm around Tilly’s shoulders, Barney grinned. ‘Maybe later.’

  With her heart doing a hop-skip-and-a-jump inside her breast, Tilly walked beside him, confused by a jumble of conflicting emotions. She could have stayed in Blossom Court where she would have been safe, sleeping in the same room as Harriet, but all her instincts had made her want to be with Barney. She had done something that no well brought up girl would do; she had willingly gone out into the night alone with a man. Ma and Pops would be horrified if they knew. She had thrown herself at Barney but she was not sorry: he was the most handsome and dashing man in the whole of London and, for tonight at least, he was hers. Feeling suddenly a little shy, Tilly slipped her hand into his and experienced a tingle running up her arm straight, she was sure, to her heart.

  ‘What am I going to do with you, young Tilly?’ Striding on, Barney glanced down at her. ‘It’s a couple of miles to the barracks and even then I’ll have a job to smuggle you in.’

  ‘You’ve done this sort of thing before?’

  ‘In my youth, when I was studying at university, but that was a long time ago.’

  ‘Oh!’ Trying to hide the note of disappointment that she was certain must creep into her voice, Tilly was startled to realise just how much she cared. She did not want Barney to have had other women, although she knew that was a forlorn hope. All the girls in the brothel had known him, Jessie had admitted that she had been his mistress; he was a rake and a philanderer and she loved him. The realisation almost took her breath away. She had not known it until that heart-stopping moment when he appeared out of the smoke and dust looking like a hero from a penny novelette. His physical presence and dazzling smile had almost whipped her legs from beneath her.

  With all this going through her head, Tilly had taken little notice as they walked past Temple Bar and the cab rank on Waterloo Bridge, where the horses placidly munched oats from their nosebags while their drivers waited for a fare. As they entered the Strand, she stumbled over a crack between the paving stones and fell, twisting her ankle.

  Supporting her with his arm around her waist, Barney’s face was close to hers. She had not forgotten the scent of him that even the smell of charred wood and brick dust could not destroy. She could see the fine laughter lines at the corner of his eyes standing out white against his blackened skin. Her instinct was to cling to him and to feel his body pressed against hers; but that was dangerous – too dangerous to contemplate and she pulled away. Making an effort to stand on her twisted ankle she collapsed against him, yelping with pain.

  ‘That settles it.’ Lifting her off her feet, Barney strode down the Strand.

  ‘Put me down. You’re making a spectacle of me.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, girl. We’re already a spectacle – a couple of chimney sweeps on the rampage. What you need is a hot bath and a good night’s sleep and I’m going to see you get it.’

  Snuggling her head against his shoulder and still protesting, but not very hard, Tilly luxuriated in the feeling of weightlessness and the ease with which he carried her. ‘Here,’ she said, alarmed, as Barney turned the corner into Savoy Court, heading for the entrance of the Savoy Hotel. ‘We can’t go in here.’

  ‘Good evening, Roberts.’ Barney nodded and smiled at the liveried doorman.

  ‘Good evening, sir.’ Roberts’s face was a study in self-control. ‘How may I help you tonight, Mr Palgrave?’

  ‘As you can see, Roberts, we’ve had a slight accident. Need a room for the night.’

  Roberts nodded. ‘I see, sir. Follow me.’ Holding the door open for them, he ushered them into the spacious vestibule.

  Clinging to Barney and thinking that any moment they were going to be physically ejected into the street, Tilly held her breath. But Barney seemed totally unconcerned and he set her down on a sofa with instructions not to move while he went to the clerk at the desk. He returned minutes later clutching a key.

  ‘Can you hobble to the lift, Tilly? Or shall I carry you?’

  Scrambling to her feet, wincing but determined to walk, Tilly gritted her teeth. ‘Let me lean on your arm. No need for the strongman act.’ Glancing nervously about her, she was amazed to see the porters and waiters acknowledging Barney as if they knew him well. ‘How did you manage this?’ she whispered.

  ‘I’ve been a guest here many times in the past and Dolph’s name is good for a bit of credit. We’ll worry about the rest in the morning.’

  ‘Here, don’t think I’m a pushover.’

  ‘My dear, as if I would.’

  In the spacious but slightly terrifying confines of the lift, Tilly closed her eyes as the hall porter pressed the buttons, the doors closed and the small room began to move upwards. Somehow she managed not to scream. Barney and the porter seemed to be used to a room that suddenly soared towards heaven, but she had left her stomach somewhere between the first and second floors.

  ‘This way, sir, madam.’ The porter led them along a wide, luxuriously carpeted corridor with gilt-framed pictures on the walls. At any other time, Tilly would have liked to stop and study them, but it was all she could do to hobble, trying not to put too much weight on her swollen ankle. The porter unlocked a door and flicked a switch. The newfangled electric lights illuminated the opulently furnished room with a brightness that made Tilly blink and gasp with delight. She had thought Jessie’s establishment was grand but it was cheap, shoddy and vulgar by comparison.

  ‘Can I get you anything else, sir?’

  ‘Not at the moment,’ Barney said. ‘I’ll ring when we’re ready to order supper.’

  ‘Certainly, sir.’ The porter hesitated, wiggling his gloved fingers and looking expectant.

  Barney fixed him with a fierce look and the porter left the room muttering beneath his breath. Tilly sank down onto the bed, looking around, awed by the opulence of the décor. Heavy velvet curtains had been drawn across a tall window and the sheets had been turned down ready for the guests to retire to bed. There was just one bed. A big bed, soft and inviting, with a satin-covered eiderdown that felt slippery as ice but was soft to the touch, and there were pillows the size of clouds. Tilly could imagine angels reclining on them, floating away to blissful dreams. She glanced nervously at Barney.

  ‘Don’t worry, my pet. I’ll take the sofa if that’s what you want.’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  ‘But first, we both need to get rid of the smoke and grime.’ Opening a door that Tilly had thought was a cupboard, Barney disappeared inside another and smaller room. She heard the sound of running water and a cloud of scented steam billowed out of the door. Getting to her feet, Tilly limped to the door and peered inside.

  ‘A bathroom in a bedroom. Well, I never did. Not even Mrs Blessed had a bathroom in her bedroom. And there’s a lav in here too. I thought it was going to be an awful long walk to the back yard.’

  Chuckling, Barney turned off the taps, tested the water and wiped his hands on the largest, fluffiest towel that Tilly had ever seen. ‘This is the best suite of rooms that I can’t afford. Enjoy your bath, my pet. I’ll have one after you.’

  Shyly, Tilly flashed him a smile. ‘Shall I leave the water in for you, then?’

  ‘I think the Savoy can provide enough hot water for a fresh bath for me, Tilly.’ Touching her cheek as he went past, Barney’s eyes darkened to the colour of old cognac. ‘Would you like me to help you undress?’

  Outraged, Tilly pushed him towards the door. ‘No such thing. And I’m going to lock the door.’

  Laughing out
loud, Barney backed out of the room. ‘You are such a delightful prude, darling.’

  The water came up to her chin and the cast-iron bath was almost deep enough to allow Tilly to float. She lay back, closing her eyes, luxuriating in the silken caress of the scented water; she risked turning on the hot tap with her toes and shivered with delight as the hot torrent gushed into the bath. If she told Ma and Pops about this they would think it was just another of her imaginative stories, but this was real, gloriously real; from the ornate cornice to the marble-tiled walls and floor, it was a palace fit for a queen.

  ‘Are you all right in there?’ Barney rapped sharply on the door, rattling the handle.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Would you like me to wash your back for you?’

  ‘Wash your mouth out more like.’ She could hear him chuckling as he moved away from the door and, for a wild moment, Tilly considered leaping out of the bath and letting him in. Splashing her face with cold water from the tap, she pulled out the plug and climbed slowly out of the tub. Reaching for a towel, Tilly paused, catching sight of her naked body in the mirror. It was a shock to see the reflection of the whole of her body unclothed, pink, wet and glistening. Tilly couldn’t tell whether she was blushing or if her rosy cheeks were the result of the hot bath. Running her hand over the curve of her breasts to the flat of her stomach and down her flank, she shuddered with unexpected, sensual pleasure. What, she wondered dreamily, would it feel like if it were Barney’s hand that caressed her flesh so tenderly? Wrapping the towel around her body, she was stricken with guilt for having such carnal thoughts. The water gurgled down the drain with a sucking noise and Barney banged on the door, asking her what she wanted for supper. The spell was broken and Tilly slipped on a robe that she found hanging behind the door. It was silk, embroidered with Chinese dragons and flowers, and, although it was much too big for her slight frame, she cinched it in at the waist with the belt and opened the door. The appreciative look in Barney’s eyes made her cheeks burn. She might be muffled in silk from her neck to her toes, but she was sure he could see her nakedness beneath.