by Dilly Court
‘Humour her, poppet. Just for the time being, let her live in her dream world. There are worse places to be.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Put your trust in an old crocusser, my love.’
Responding to the irrepressible twinkle in his eyes, Eliza laughed out loud.
‘It’s so good to hear you laugh again,’ Freddie said, caressing her cheek with the tip of his forefinger. ‘You’ve shouldered a burden that would have been too heavy for most men, let alone a young girl.’
The magic moment dissipated with his last words. The pleasure that Eliza had felt and the tenderness of his touch were all as nothing if Freddie still saw her as a mere child. She bit back harsh words; she wanted to shout out loud that she was a grown woman with a woman’s emotions and needs, but being in the house that Freddie shared with Daisy made it impossible for her to speak out. Her knees were shaking and Eliza felt as though the dark waters of the Thames were closing over her head. She was drowning. ‘Where’s Tommy?’ She saw a lifeline and made a grab for it. ‘You promised that I could see him.’
‘Of course.’ Freddie’s tone was suddenly neutral. ‘I’ll take you to him.’
He led the way to a room at the back of the house that had been set up as a nursery with a truckle bed in one corner, a table and two chairs and a large, gaudily painted rocking horse that looked as though it had been stolen from a merry-go-round at a fair. A fire blazed in the hearth, the coals glowing orange and black, with flames roaring up the chimney like a tiger caged behind the bars of a nursery fireguard. Tommy was sitting on the bare floorboards, playing with a set of coloured wooden bricks. He looked up with an oddly adult expression on his small face as Freddie entered the room, closely followed by Eliza.
‘Tommy, my boy. Look who’s come to see you.’
‘Hello, Tommy. Do you remember me? I’m your Auntie Liza.’ Eliza went down on her knees in front of him, and she picked up a couple of bricks. ‘What were you building?’
‘It fell down,’ Tommy said, looking past Eliza to Freddie. ‘Where’s my mama?’
‘She’ll be home soon, old chap. Your Auntie Liza will keep you company while I go and see to the horse.’ Freddie left the room, closing the door behind him.
She sat back on her haunches watching Tommy as he began to pile the bricks one on top of the other. He seemed so self-contained but Eliza sensed his feeling of isolation. She remembered only too well her own childhood, and the hours spent alone at night in the unfriendly confines of the sail loft while Bart was out working on the river. Her heart went out to the boy; he resembled Bart so closely that it almost hurt to look at him. She wanted above everything to be able to get to know Tommy and to love him, but she did not know how to begin. It pained her to realise that she had no idea how to talk to him, or break into the private little world that he seemed to have built for himself. She tried to think of something to say that would amuse him, but her inability to do so only underlined her lack of experience in dealing with children. Eliza took a deep breath, and tried again. ‘So, Tommy, what was it before it fell down?’
‘A boat.’
‘Do you like boats?’
‘We come to London on a boat. A big boat.’
‘So you did. If your mama will let you, I could take you to the docks to see some big boats.’
For a moment a glimmer of interest lit his eyes, and then it faded. ‘I got to stay indoors. Mama said I must.’
‘Well, I’m sure we could fix something. And I know that your mama would want you to come and see my store, where I sell things to do with boats. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
Tommy pushed a pile of bricks towards her. ‘Build a boat now.’
For all her efforts, Eliza soon found she was hopeless at building with wooden blocks, and Tommy was eyeing her attempts with masculine contempt. She tried to make a joke of her feeble efforts, but he refused to respond and she was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he simply didn’t like her. By the time Freddie returned from the stables, Eliza was almost at her wits’ end and she cast him a desperate but silent plea for help.
‘Not going too well?’ Freddie helped her to her feet, adding in a low voice, ‘Give the boy time.’
‘She don’t know how to build a boat,’ Tommy said, leaping up and tucking his small hand into Freddie’s. ‘She’s a girl and girls are no good at anything.’
Freddie winked at Eliza over the top of Tommy’s head. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that, old chap.’
‘It’s true that I’m not much good with building blocks,’ Eliza said, smiling ruefully. ‘But perhaps I’ll get better with practice.’
Tommy tugged Freddie’s hand. ‘I’m hungry.’
With a mighty swing, Freddie hefted him onto his shoulders. ‘And I’ve persuaded Sukey to lay out a picnic luncheon in the parlour. Although,’ he added, turning to Eliza, ‘she’s not the best cook in the world so I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high. Mind your head on the lintel, Tommy.’
Eliza followed them out of the nursery and down the hall to the parlour, where Dolly was dozing in front of the fire, an empty wine glass still clutched in her hand. She opened her eyes as they entered the room, and, as Freddie set Tommy down on the floor, she sat bolt upright, peering short-sightedly at him with her silver hair sticking out from her head in a crown of corkscrew curls.
‘Are you the queen?’ demanded Tommy, eyeing Dolly with an unblinking stare.
She glowered for a moment and then gave him a gap-toothed smile. ‘That’s right, ducks. I’m the queen and who might you be, young man?’
‘Tommy Bragg.’
‘I like you, Tommy Bragg. You may sit beside me and tell me a story.’
‘Grown-ups tell children stories.’
‘I’m the queen and you have to do like I say.’
Tommy seemed to consider this for a moment and then he went to sit on the floor beside Dolly. ‘Are you hungry, queen?’
Dolly put her head on one side, considering. ‘I could do with another slice of that seed cake.’
‘I’ll get it for you,’ Tommy said, making a move to get to his feet.
‘Stay where you are, boy.’ Dolly pointed a bony finger at Eliza. ‘That’s what servants are for.’
‘Well,’ Eliza said, exchanging amused glances with Freddie. ‘It’s amazing. I couldn’t get through to him at all and yet Dolly can.’
‘Then we’d best play the game,’ Freddie said, picking up a knife and handing it to Eliza. ‘Cut a slice of seed cake for her majesty, serving wench.’
‘If I’m the servant then what are you, Freddie?’
Freddie pulled a face. ‘How about court jester?’
They ate their food sitting on the floor, with Dolly reigning supreme from her throne and regaling Tommy with stories about picnics with Eastern potentates and foreign royalty in the grounds of Buckingham Palace. Eliza nibbled a slice of the pork pie that Sukey had provided. She was so happy to be sitting close to Freddie that she did not even complain when Tommy accidentally dropped his portion on her skirt, leaving a greasy stain.
As the sky darkened outside, hurling rain at the windows, the shadows in the corners of the room deepened, and they were marooned on an island of flickering firelight. She was as close to Freddie as she could be without actually touching him and nothing seemed to exist outside that enchanted circle of light; Eliza felt warm and safe for the first time in years. She closed her eyes and allowed her senses to soar with happiness. The fire snapped and crackled, making music with the pitter-patter of the raindrops against the window glass. Dolly’s high-pitched voice mingled with Tommy’s childish laughter, echoing off the high ceiling, and creating the impression that there was a party in progress.
The spell was broken abruptly when Daisy burst in upon them, bringing with her a gust of cold, damp air. ‘Well, you all look cosy, I’m sure.’
Tommy leapt to his feet and ran over to her, throwing his arms around her waist. ‘Mama, mama, we’ve had such a good game. She�
��s the queen and I’m the prince.’ He pointed to Dolly who had risen to her feet with her paper crown hanging tipsily over one ear.
‘That’s nice, dear,’ Daisy said, casting a stony glance in Freddie’s direction. ‘Just look at you, Tommy. You’ve got jam all over your clean shirt.’
‘Don’t scold the boy, Daisy.’ Freddie raised himself from the floor, holding his hand out to help Eliza to her feet.
Eliza could see by the expression on her face that this simple gesture had not gone down well with Daisy. She longed to fly to Tommy’s defence, but she held her tongue knowing that it would only make things worse.
Daisy shot a furious glance at Freddie. ‘Tommy is my son and don’t you forget it, Freddie Prince.’
‘Mama.’ Tommy tugged at her sleeve. ‘We’ve had a picnic on the floor.’
‘Go and find Sukey. Tell her I want a cup of tea and some bread and cheese.’
‘But I want to stay and play with the queen,’ Tommy said, stamping his foot. ‘It’s not fair.’
‘Do as I say or I’ll box your ears.’ Daisy made her hands into fists and Tommy fled from the room. She turned on Freddie, her eyes flashing with anger. ‘This is all your fault, Freddie. Bringing a mad woman into the house and filling the boy’s head with nonsense.’
Dolly collapsed onto her chair. ‘Liza. What’s going on? Who is that woman and why is she shouting at my poor Albert?’
Eliza hurried to her side. ‘It’s all right, Mum. Don’t get upset.’
‘I was the queen,’ Dolly said, clutching Eliza’s hand. ‘And then she come in shouting and I don’t know who I am. Tell her to go away.’
‘There, there, calm down, dear.’ Eliza stroked Dolly’s hair, carefully removing the paper crown. She cast an anxious glance at Freddie.
He turned to Daisy, speaking quietly but firmly. ‘We’ll talk about this later.’
‘Don’t take that tone with me.’
Freddie shrugged his shoulders. He went to the table and poured a measure from the medicine bottle into Dolly’s wine glass. ‘Here, Liza, let her sip this.’
Eliza held it to Dolly’s trembling lips. ‘Drink this, love. You’ll soon be right as rain.’
Daisy lowered her voice just a little. ‘I don’t want Tommy’s head filled with stupid stories that will give him nightmares. That woman is out of her head.’
‘Come now, Daisy,’ Freddie said mildly. ‘Where’s the harm in the boy having a bit of fun?’
‘Fun? He makes up enough stories as it is without you encouraging him. And why did you bring her here when you knew I was going to be out?’ Daisy shook her finger at Eliza, raising her voice. ‘What’s your game, missy?’
‘I just wanted to see Tommy. I didn’t mean to stay so late.’
Daisy made a move towards Eliza, but Freddie caught her by the wrist. ‘My dear, don’t blame Eliza. It was my fault and, as usual, I didn’t stop to think. I knew she wanted to see the boy. I should have spoken to you first, but you know how I am.’
Daisy frowned up at him and then she smiled, giving his cheek a playful slap. ‘I do know you, you big bad boy.’ She kissed the imprints of her fingers on his cheek and turned to Eliza with a tight-lipped smile that did not reach her eyes. ‘I don’t mind you seeing Tommy, Eliza, but I’d rather you did it when I’m here.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Eliza said hastily. ‘I do understand. Now I really must get Dolly home. I have to go out this evening and I need to get her settled.’
‘I’ll bet you’ve got that nice gent to take you out.’ Daisy’s expression changed subtly, and she leaned her head against Freddie’s shoulder. ‘Aren’t you the crafty one?’
‘You’re not going to accept Brandon Miller’s invitation to supper, are you?’ Freddie’s voice was edged with steel.
‘He’s taking me out to discuss business.’
‘I don’t like it. You shouldn’t go out with him, not without a chaperone. It’s not right.’
‘Don’t listen to him, my dear,’ Daisy said, her face wreathed in a sunny smile. ‘He’s an old spoilsport. You go out and have a good time.’
‘It’s business, not pleasure.’ Eliza stared down at her crumpled skirts with a feeling of dismay. This was her only good frock and Brandon had told her to wear something suitable. The grease stain caused by Tommy’s slice of pie had spread down the front of her skirt and it would be almost impossible to remove. She shook her head. ‘Maybe I won’t go after all.’
‘I can guess at your problem – you got nothing to wear.’ Daisy seized Eliza by the hand, dragging her towards the door. ‘We’ll soon fix that, and you’ll be the belle of the ball, so to speak. Freddie, fetch the cart and be ready to take them home.’
Daisy raced across the hall and up the sweeping staircase to her room on the first floor. She kept a tight grip on Eliza’s hand, giving her no option other than to follow in her wake. In the half-light, Eliza saw an unmade bed, with tumbled pillows and coverlet. In her mind’s eye she saw Daisy and Freddie, coupling in just the same way as she had seen him with Beattie. With a sick feeling in her stomach, Eliza turned away.
Daisy waded through piles of clothes that lay scattered about the floor like fallen leaves in autumn. ‘I can’t wait for the furniture to arrive,’ she said, pulling garments at random from an overflowing cabin trunk. ‘I’m sick of living in a mess. Here, this one might fit you. I was thinner in those days.’ Daisy held up a shimmering gown of scarlet satin, trimmed with black velvet bows and fringed braid. ‘Bart always liked me in this. He’d approve, I’m sure.’
‘Oh, I dunno.’ Eliza stared at the garish garment, struggling to find a tactful way of refusing. ‘It’s beautiful, but I think it’s a bit too grand for me.’
‘Stuff and nonsense.’ Daisy held the gown against Eliza. ‘It’s perfect. You want to impress the rich bloke, don’t you?’
‘Like I said, it’s business.’
Daisy thrust the gown into Eliza’s arms with a knowing grin. ‘I was in that sort of business, ducks. I was a professional afore I met your brother. There ain’t nothing you can tell me about twisting men round me little finger. You wear that frock tonight and he’ll give you anything you want.’
‘Why are you doing this for me, Daisy?’
‘Well, it’s not because I’m your affectionate sister-in-law. Although I did love Bart, in me own way; so don’t run away with the idea that I was just using him.’
Eliza shook her head. ‘No, I promise you. I never thought such a thing.’
‘Let’s be honest with each other, Liza. It’s a tough life for a widow woman, especially when she’s got a kid in tow. I thought I’d got Freddie where I wanted him, until I saw him with you, and now I’m not so sure. Seeing you hitched to another bloke is the only way I can see clear to getting you out of me hair. Is that plain enough?’
‘It’s clear, but you’re so wrong. Freddie still thinks of me as a kid. He’s not interested in me. Not in the way you think.’
Daisy’s eyes narrowed. ‘That’s as maybe, but at least we got things straight. You keep your hands off my man, and I’ll let you see Tommy. I want fair shares of the business for my son, or else I’ll take the case to the law, and you’ll end up with nothing. Do you understand?’
Eliza drew herself up to her full height. ‘I would always treat Bart’s son fair. You got no need to worry on that score.’
‘Then we’ll get along fine,’ Daisy said, smiling. ‘I ain’t a hard woman, Liza. But I am tough. I’ve had to fight for everything I got. As I see things, there ain’t no reason why we can’t be friends, so long as you understands the rules.’
Freddie was about to leave the house in Hemp Yard, but he paused on the doorstep, turning to Eliza with a frown puckering his brow. ‘You will take care, won’t you, Liza? Don’t let that fellow take advantage of you.’
‘There’s no need to worry about me. I can take care of myself. ’ She wanted to cry, but Eliza managed a tight little laugh.
Freddie appeared unconvinc
ed. ‘I mean it. Make certain he escorts you home, but don’t ask him in. Keep the conversation strictly to business, and if he starts to flirt with you – put him in his place.’
‘Goodbye, Freddie.’ Eliza closed the door on him and her smile faded. She was not looking forward to her evening with Brandon, but the future of her business depended upon him. The bricks and mortar might be in place, but she still needed to buy stock for the chandlery. Without the Millers’ backing, it would be impossible. She glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf: in just one hour he would be calling for her and Millie was not home yet, even though she had promised to ask the housekeeper if she could be let off early. Eliza snatched up her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. There was only one solution, and that was to see if either Ada or Mary could keep an eye on Dolly until Millie returned. Letting herself out into the cold night with frost beginning to settle on the cobblestones, Eliza hurried to the house in Bird Street.
A gust of steamy air laced with the odour of carbolic soap belched out into the street as Ada opened the door. The sound of childish shrieks and splashing emanated from the living room and Eliza realised that she had interrupted bath night. ‘Oh, dear,’ she said apologetically. ‘I was going to ask you to come and sit with Dolly for a bit, but it seems like a bad time.’
‘I would come,’ Ada said, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘You know I would, but I daren’t leave the boys on their own. They’d either drown each other, burn the house down or flood it.’
‘Could Mary do it, just until Millie gets in?’
‘I’m sorry, ducks. It is her night off but she’s gone with her dad to one of them mission meetings. They’ve taken to going round the pubs preaching on the evils of the demon drink. Time was when you couldn’t get my Arthur out of the boozer. Now he’s in them trying to reform the punters. I dunno what the world is coming to.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll manage.’ Wrapping her shawl more tightly around her head, Eliza ran all the way home.
She found Dolly sleeping peacefully and heaved a sigh of relief. But a quick check on the time made her realise that she had just half an hour to get ready. She went into her bedroom to try on the borrowed gown. Daisy had spoken the truth when she said she had been much slimmer when the dress was made for her. Even so, Eliza’s firm young breasts were no match for Daisy’s generous bosom and the neckline plunged so low that it left little to the imagination. She rifled through her things and found a fichu that had belonged to Dolly in the days when such items of clothing were fashionable. She draped it round her bare shoulders and tucked it into the top of her stays. Feeling more confident, she put up her hair, fastening it with combs, and went downstairs to await Brandon’s arrival. She paced the floor with a mounting degree of nervousness.