‘No. I mean, yes.’ She heard the door go below, and her heart began to pound.
‘Are you unwell?’
She did not answer.
‘I take it the hounds of hell are after you?’ He laughed.
‘No.’ She was unable to smile at his jest. ‘Look, the woman who’s just come in. She knows me. I mean, it’s Madame Lefevre, you know, my old employer from the wig shop. I don’t want her to know I’m here, working for you.’
‘Why not?’
‘I just . . .’
‘Good day?’ The hollow impatience of Madame Lefevre’s voice came from beneath their feet.
‘Please, sir, would you tell her I’ve moved on? I don’t want her to know where I work.’
‘This is inconvenient – I don’t expect to employ a salesgirl then have to go down myself.’
‘Mr Whitgift? Is there anyone there?’ echoed Madame Lefevre.
‘Please, sir?’ Ella kept her voice steady.
‘Downstairs, Miss Johnson.’
Ella did not move. She shook her head and clung tight to the latch lever on the door.
Jay gave her a hard stare, frowned and pushed past her to go downstairs.
Ella leaned out onto the landing so she could hear their conversation. She dare not move nearer in case a floorboard should creak and give her away. Her mouth was dry. What if Madame had one of the notices with her? Jay Whitgift would recognize her straight away and she would be finished. Her thoughts tangled in her head. She forced herself to listen.
She heard Jay’s voice. ‘Ah, good afternoon, madam. I trust you are well.’
‘Quite well, thanking you. I have come about Ella Appleby – the girl who made such a sow’s ear of your wig.’
‘There is no need to apologize further, madam . . .’
‘No, no. I am trying to locate her.’
‘Hold on, what did you say her name was?’
‘Ella Appleby.’
There was a pause. Ella’s fingernails bit into her palm. Pray God she would not tell him what they had done.
‘Well, I am afraid I cannot help you. I have no idea where she is. Devilish weather, isn’t it?’
‘But the little girl in the yard told me there was a girl of her description working here.’
‘Well, I’m afraid the little girl is not very well informed. I let your girl go. I’m afraid she did not suit.’
Ella loosened her grip on the banister rail and sat down. She craned her head so as to hear better.
‘Where is she now?’ asked Madame Lefevre.
‘I have no idea, madam, nor do I care. She was a bad lot.’
Ella felt a stab at being referred to this way, but she was relieved he had not given her away.
‘You have no idea where she lives?’
‘I take no interest in the personal lives of my employees, madam, so no.’
‘If she should come here again . . .’
‘She won’t.’
‘But if she does, will you tell her to drop by the perruquier’s?’
‘Why should I?’
‘There’s some money owed to her. A considerable sum. She might be glad of it, now she has no position.’
Ella dropped down to a crouch. The crafty old stick. She’d got wind of the notices and seen the reward.
Jay’s voice floated up.
‘If I see her again, which I sincerely hope I will not, I will tell her no such thing. If you owe her money, then I should keep it. She certainly did nothing for your business.’
‘That’s true, but I feel that would be uncharitable. Let me know if you come across her. Her or her sister, you remember, the girl with the birthmark on her face.’
‘Whilst you are here, may I interest you in some calendula cream? It is very efficacious, so I am told. All the ladies swear by it for keeping wrinkles at bay.’
The slight pause told Ella that Madame Lefevre had registered the veiled insult.
‘No, no,’ came her voice. ‘Just, I’d be interested to hear any news—’
The door jangled again.
‘Ah, Jay. You are here after all.’ Another man’s voice.
‘Oh it’s you, Tindall,’ said Jay. ‘Would you escort Madame Lefevre across the yard, she’s just leaving.’
‘So you found him then,’ said Tindall’s voice. ‘Here, take my arm. The yard’s damned slippery, the cobbles are thick with ice – nearly came a cropper myself.’
Ella positioned herself behind the curtain. Dusk had fallen quickly. She watched as the shanky figure of Tindall led Madame Lefevre across the yard in tottering steps. They were talking as they went. She could see Tindall bend to listen, and once they stopped and seemed to be deep in conversation. Ella’s stomach churned, wondering what they were saying and whether Madame Lefevre was telling him anything about her and Sadie. Eventually he raised his hand to Madame Lefevre and she turned out of the gate into the gathering darkness of the street outside. Ella released the fabric of the curtain which she held gripped in one hand. Her palm was sweating, her nerves jangling. She heard Jay moving downstairs and then the door to the stairway creak open.
Her stomach sank. Now she would have to face Jay and she was afraid. She had thought London to be safe. And it would have been. Were it not for Sadie, and her disfigurement. She could have disappeared quick, were it not for her. Two girls were much more conspicuous, and if one had a mark on her face – well. The city was tightening around her, twisting like the twitch they used to control an unbroken horse.
His heels rang on the wooden stairs. She steeled herself, took a deep breath.
‘Are you going to tell me what this is about?’ Jay reappeared grim-faced on the landing. ‘You deceived me, gave me a false name.’
Ella curtseyed to him. ‘Beg pardon, Mr Whitgift, I wanted a fresh start. I didn’t mean nothing by it.’
‘Why would you do that? She says there’s money owed to you. Don’t you want to lay claim to it?’
‘That’s lies. There’s no money. She just wants to know where I am.’
‘But why?’ He moved closer to her, a glint in his eye. She felt hot suddenly, her tight-laced bodice was constricting her.
‘Do you want the truth? She’s after me because I owe her,’ she lied, opening her eyes wide and looking into his.
‘How much?’
‘When she sacked me I was angry, so I robbed the petty cash drawer. But it was only a few farthings. Don’t give me away. It weren’t much and they’ll brand me if you do.’
He scrutinized her a moment. ‘I’m not sure I believe you, Ella Appleby. I was brought up in the backstreets of Whitechapel, and I tell you – I can smell something fishy from a hundred yards, and you’re a good deal nearer.’
Ella looked down at her shoes.
‘If I find anything’s gone missing from the Gilded Lily . . .’
Ella thought of the second pot of alabaster cream she had tucked in her apron and was disconcerted to find the heat rising to her cheeks.
‘You minx! You have, haven’t you?’
Embarrassed, Ella brought out the pot of cream and held it out on her palm.
‘What, this?’ He let out a great snort of laughter. ‘You pinched this?’ She did not know why he was laughing. ‘A ha’porth of cream?’
‘Sorry, Mr Whitgift. I’ll pay for it. ’Twas only a borrow, till I get my pay purse next week. I wanted to look more—’
‘You’ve been using it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Come here.’
She approached him with her head bowed. He put his hands under her chin and tilted her face up and to the side. She thought she might faint, the blood beat at her temples. She held her breath.
‘You could do with a little more. It would make you less ruddy.’ He took hold of a wisp of her hair and lifted it between his finger and thumb. ‘Lady Lucie Edgware has her hair styled very fetchingly, don’t you think?’
‘It is that. Very well done,’ said Ella, quashing the feelings of envy that thre
atened to show in her face, and staying still as he fingered her hair.
‘You could do worse than copy her style.’ He released her hair and turned away saying, ‘You may keep the cream. I expect you to recompense the business, though, from your next pay packet.’
Ella fumbled to put the jar away. He was looking at her with his black eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed together. She crossed her fingers he believed her story about thieving from Madame Lefevre’s.
‘Miss Appleby, if that is truly who you are, I will keep your secret. I will not tell Madame Lefevre you are here. But I expect you to be obedient in return. You understand me?’ He stacked the soaps in a neat tower one on top of the other. ‘You may remain as Miss Johnson here, but the slightest whiff of trouble and I shall send for the wigmaker myself.’
She nodded. She dare not let the relief show on her face.
‘You may go back down. Oh, one thing before you go. Walk with smaller steps, and daintily. When a gentlewoman enters, it must be silent, I should only hear the rustle of her skirts.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Ella turned and made her way stiffly to the shop, slowly picking up her feet, placing them silently on the stair treads. She was mortified. He must think her a clumsy cluck, even in her new dainty boots. She made herself walk slowly, even though it made her feel strange to be creeping thus and not romping from one task to the next in a terrible hurry like she had when she was a housemaid. But if it was what Jay wanted and it stopped him asking any more questions, then she would oblige him. He followed her down, and she could feel him staring at her as she descended, an almost physical sensation of his eyes on the nape of her neck.
When he left her alone in the shop she almost fell to her knees in gratitude. She still had her position. But it had been frightening, Feverface appearing in the yard like that, and now Jay knew her real name he might read about her on the notices. She’d passed one on her way to the Lily, nailed to the shutter of the pudding shop. They must be on every street corner by now, and how much longer could she keep Sadie out of the public eye? She tussled it in her thoughts. Curse Sadie. But for her, she would have been invisible.
Chapter 22
Sadie opened the door to greet her sister.
‘Brrr! Let me get inside!’
Ella dumped her basket and shrugged out of her cloak, shaking it at arm’s length to dispel the snowflakes from its shoulders before depositing it on the hook on the back of the door.
Sadie drew back, surprised to see that Ella was dressed in another gown, this time an elaborate bright green and gold velvet, with lace point on the sleeves and a swathe of embroidered leaves and flowers on the front panel. Ella crossed the room carefully, as if treading on eggshells, and sat down stiffly on one of the hard stools. Her hair was dressed in a tight new style with a froth of lace ribbon wound around the topknot.
She looked sheepish as though she was expecting a comment from Sadie, but none was forthcoming. Sadie sat down again silently, her mouth set in a line, and carried on cutting up bacon fat to make lardy cakes. So she had another fine new gown, did she? And she, Sadie, still in her Westmorland woollen.
After a few minutes’ strained silence, ‘Been to Cornhill?’ asked Sadie.
‘No. I didn’t want to trudge all the way up there in this snow. Look, my feet are frozen. Can’t wear my good leather bootees in this.’ She wriggled a foot free from her wooden clog.
Sadie looked at Ella’s reddened toes. They did not look like they belonged to the rest of her.
‘It’s turned slushy now and I did not want this dress to spoil,’ Ella continued. ‘I came straight home instead. I’ll get the corn-meal tomorrow.’
Sadie made no comment, but got up and threw the bacon bits into a basin.
‘Did you get your pay?’
‘Yes.’
At last. Sadie threw up her hands. ‘God be praised. So you can go to the flesh market as well, and get some ribs and maybe a bit of brisket. I’m that tired of patties and puddings.’
‘Hmm.’ Ella arranged her skirts on the stool and eased herself to upright.
Sadie sat down opposite her, wiped her hands and said, ‘Let’s have a deek at your pay. We’ll count it out and put the rent aside. Then we can make a reckoning of what’s left, for food and fuel.’
Ella did not open her purse. ‘There’s no need, I’ve paid the rent already. I called in on Ma Gowper on the way up.’
‘That’s good. How is she?’
‘What do you think of my new suit?’
‘Very fine.’ Sadie’s words were clipped.
‘It’s from Whitgift’s Yard. You know, another one from their closet. He gave me another, picked it out on purpose. Sorry, I’ve not enough put by yet to buy one for you and I can’t pinch one – they watch me like a hawk.’
Sadie could scarcely bring herself to look at it, but when Ella came in she had noticed straight away the hem was perfectly clean, despite the snow, as if it had never been worn. She must have held it up, all the way home. The green lent Ella’s face and chest a slightly unhealthy cast. The new dress was much less becoming than the other. Ella’s face was deathly pale, her chest white and heaving, as if the stays were making her breathless. There were two spots of bright red cochineal on her cheeks. Of late her eyes had slid away from Sadie’s face whenever she asked her anything about Whitgift’s.
Sadie cleared a space on the table and patted it with her hand. ‘Shall we count it now?’
Ella paused a moment before pulling out her purse and dropping it with deliberate carelessness onto the table. Sadie began to comb the coins across the table one by one, making neat piles. When she had finished she looked up in concern.
‘Is this right? Did the Whitgifts dock your pay?’
‘No, he never. I told you, I’ve paid the rent.’
‘Even with that, there still looks to be a shortfall.’
‘I’ve told you. It’s right. The old baggage put the rent up. She’s that narrow she’d skin a flea for a ha’penny.’ Ella scooped the coins and tokens off the table and crammed them back in the purse. ‘Anyway, you don’t have to keep account. I earn the money and I’m the one trailing the markets every day.’
‘Oh, Ell, that’s not fair. You know I’d be out that door in the shake of a tail, if I could.’
‘But you can’t. Your blasted description is all over those notices. Every last beggar in London is searching for you. Woe betide any other girl with a port wine stain on her face. A few days ago even that old crow Madame Lefevre was asking at Whitgift’s after you.’
Sadie stood up. ‘You never told me that. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘It’s all right. Sit tight. He sent her away. Said we’d moved on.’
‘How long do you think, before it dies down?’
‘God knows. It’s like a bloody beacon, that face of yours. I was daft. I should have thought on it, left you safe in Netherbarrow. But I can’t send you back. If they caught you they’d fetch it all out of you somehow.’
‘How do you mean?’ Then realizing what she meant, Sadie bit her lip and reached out her hand tentatively towards Ella’s.
‘Ella, don’t be like that, give us a squeeze like we used to do.’
Ella stood up and moved away. ‘You’re too old for that soft nonsense now, Sadie. You have to stand on your own two feet, you can’t be hanging round my skirts no more like a bairn.’
‘I’m not. I just want us to stick together, that’s all. Like you promised.’
‘You could go out. If only you’d see sense and whiten your face.’
‘I need a gown first.’
Ella shook her head wordlessly, then looked away towards the window.
Sadie picked up the dishcloth and wrung it. Her hands were trembling. ‘Why didn’t you tell me Old Feverface came to the yard? Everyone’s chasing us. I’m scared, Ell.’
Ella turned back and snapped, ‘Do you think I don’t know? But there’s nothing I can do about it, can I? I can’t tu
rn back time, we just have to sit it out. Wait for the dust to settle.’
‘It’s been a long time settling. And we need another wage; I can scarce make a meal with what we’ve got.’ She stood up and paced the room, thinking at home she’d be taking in mending. Surely she could do something like that. ‘I know, how’s about you bring me some piece work, Ell?’
‘For Christ’s sake, I’m too busy to be running round after you. I’ve got responsibilities now at the Lily. Somebody’s got to put bread on the table.’
‘But I could help,’ she said. ‘I could fill scent bottles, or make up nosegays or baskets. I’m good at that, I’ve a right neat hand. I could do that without going out.’
‘Don’t be a goose. People would ask questions, wouldn’t they, about where they’d come from. And if there was trouble, we can’t shift from here again. We’d never get another place to stay, you would be spotted straight away. You and your stupid face. You’ve not touched that cream. I can see you’ve not.’
‘Stop it.’ She put the dishcloth down gently on the table. ‘Don’t start on me again.’
‘I’d be clear and free if it wasn’t for you. I’m that scared someone’ll spot you, and then we’ll be done for.’
‘That’s not true, stop saying such things.’
‘I only brought you with me ’cos I was sorry for you. I couldn’t leave you there with him, could I?’
Sadie felt a lump in her throat. Ella’s dress creaked as she spoke. Sadie saw that some of the lacing was agape and a small roll of Ella’s white flesh was swelling out. Ella was still speaking. ‘It’s hard looking out for you, I’m sick of having to worry myself to a fray. I don’t know what to do if you won’t even help yourself.’ Ella stopped short. Her chest rose and fell as if she could not catch her breath.
Sadie felt her voice waver. ‘I didn’t make the trouble. It’s your fault we had to run away, not mine.’
Ella moved towards her, pointing a finger. ‘And whose fault is it that it keeps coming after us?’
She couldn’t mean it. And yet from her expression Sadie could see that she did. ‘That’s it. Why are you being so spiteful? It’s not my fault.’
The Gilded Lily Page 22