Matty is in his bedroom and has been all morning. He’s built a tent of blankets over a clothes-horse and hides inside with Kaiser. ‘Are you coming down?’ she asked. When he shook his head Julia didn’t argue. If this blockade continues she may well join him, for now she hides in the garden rubbing a burn on her wrist gained by being overhasty with a treacle sponge. The burn bears witness to folly. How foolish to think they would come. She ought to have read the signs and known a minnow of the wrong colour and tribe can’t expect to swim with the tide; she must fight her way alone.
Five o clock this morning she swept leaves from the lawn and thought how enticing the parlour looked. Yesterday, laughing, Maud and Leah hung flags and balloons from the ivy. Julia watched and in that moment loved them as family. Now they stand with heads high but underneath are broken.
Yesterday evening the telephone rang, Stefan, her first official caller via the shared line. ‘Good evening, Julianna, I hope I do not disturb. I learned you are with telephone and rang to wish you luck. I’d like to be with you but thought it in your best interest to stay away. I send all love as does Karoline.’
Remembering Callie’s questioning Julia asked. ‘Does she really know of me, Stefan? I mean is Karoline aware of this, the tea-shop and our partnership?’
‘She is silent and yet I am certain she knows all and approves all.’
Five minutes to one the door bell jingled.
Mrs Mac came through. ‘We have a customer.’ It was Joe Carmody tightly buttoned up in a go-to-chapel suit, a wisp of grey hair slicked down and boots polished. Cap in hand he hovered inside the door. ‘I’ve come, ma’m.’
‘Good day Mr Carmody. We are pleased to see you. Please take a seat.’
‘Where shall I sit?’
‘How about that table in the nook? It’s my favourite spot and has a view of the side garden and the white roses you trained across the lattice.’
‘As you wish.’ He sat with his cap on his lap.
‘Let me take your cap.’ Julia took an order pad. ‘Now what may I get you?’
Joe screwed up his face. ‘I don’t rightly know. From what I’ve seen and smelt in the kitchen this last week I’d say pretty much anythin’.’
They consulted on choice Julia going through the menu. Then seeing him flustered she smiled. ‘Might the ladies put together a selection of items for you to try, some sweet things and some savoury?’ Thinking about his slender means she added, ‘and of course those you don’t want you leave.’
‘You mean not pay for them like?’
‘Exactly so.’
‘That sounds alreet. As always I’ll be guided by you, ma’m.’
Julia was overcome. God bless the man! He’s come because he thinks no one else will. He’ll sit. He’ll hate every minute but be faithful and loving to the end.
She put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Dorothy, please be especially attentive with Mr Carmody. He is our very dear friend.’
Joe was always going to come. Poor madam, everybody treating her shabby it’s shameful, like pulling the wings off butterflies! He is here and will stay as long as his money and his nerve holds. Nothing was going to keep him away, not Bertha his wife, nobody. Crunched up and uncertain he sits mouthing an egg-custard. Gar! He felt on display, a mannequin in Bentalls Window with fancy weskit and painted smile couldn’t have been gawped at more. Blighters! Look at ‘em staring! They’d love to be in here, fair gagging, but not one of ‘em has the courage to stand up for his feelings. This custard tart is tasty but bound to give him indigestion as Bertha was quick to point out. ‘Where you going, Joseph Carmody, all dressed up like that and havin’ takin’ a bath?’ she’d asked.
‘I’m goin’ to the cafe openin’ in town.’
‘Why are you going there,’ she says. ‘That’s not for the likes of us. ‘
‘Maybe not but I’m goin’,’
The doorbell chimed. A gentleman doffed his hat, a handsome chap in a white shirt and pinstriped suit. ‘Hello, Joe. May I join you?’
Joe looked up. It was Luke Roberts! ‘Nay I didn’t recognise you, lad, all spiffed up like that. Aye, come sit down and welcome.’
Dottie Manners who lives in the village took Luke’s order, her cheeks pink and his more so. The menu was cakes and sweet stuff. What he really wanted was a slice of the steak and ale pie currently being served at the Nelson, preferably with a pint of Pipers best bitter, but for now he’ll settle for a slice of strawberry tart and the gratitude in his darling’s eyes.
‘Good day, Mr Roberts.’ Now she’s here her mouth a smudged peony.
‘Mrs Dryden.’ Luke got to his feet. It’s likely as a customer he ought to stay put but no man is able to sit when Julianna Dryden speaks his name.
‘I am so pleased to see you. Are you keeping well?’
‘Thank you I am.’
‘And your mother?’
‘She’s well.’
‘Do give her my best wishes.’
‘I will.’
‘Dorothy will take your order. If what you would most like to try is not on the menu please say. We shall endeavour to provide it.’
Knees shaking Luke sat. He stared at the hand-printed card but could only see her mouth and the burn on her wrist. Joe leaned close. ‘Is it on the menu, lad?’
‘What?’
‘The thing you’d most like to try?’
‘No it’s not,’ Luke sighed, ‘and never likely to be.’
The strawberry tart arrived and was good but Luke couldn’t eat it. He was so anxious he could barely breathe. Up before dawn he was this morning getting jobs done so to be here on time. Then a trip to the barber and back to the Nelson for a bath and the new pinstriped suit, his mother’s eyes red hot coals on his back.
‘You’re dressed up for it, aren’t you?’ she says.
‘You want me to go in my boots and with my hair all easy?’ he replies.
‘I don’t want you to go at all.’
‘Too bad. I’m going.’
‘Nobody else will be there!’
‘There’ll be somebody there,’ says he grimly, ‘and you’ll be one of them.’
‘I’m not goin’,’ she argues.
‘Yes you are! I’ve seen your best blue dress on the bed and that feathered hat. I know well you intend to go.’
‘They’re out for cleanin’,’ says she.
‘Don’t talk daft! You put them out to wear, Nan Roberts! I see it in your face. You can’t bear the idea of her left standing alone.’
Nan had tossed her head. ‘I may go and I may not. I haven’t made up my mind. But if I do it’s not about her, silly girl that she is! It’s more about not lettin’ Aggie Simpkin and her chapel friends rule the roost.’
‘Whatever the reason, go, and you and me will be better friends for it.’
She’ll come, Luke knows she will. Nan Roberts is a fair and honest woman and knows Bakers End is doing wrong.
The clock ticked and still only the two of them. Even Matty hasn’t made a showing, a weather barometer that child knows when a storm is brewing.
Luke looked at his watch.
Joe stared. ‘Why are you lookin’ at your watch, you expectin’ somebody?’
You bet your life he is expecting somebody though not so much expecting as hoping a prayer brought to the ear of a fickle Society Lady will be heard.
Two o clock she said she’d be here. It’s quarter to. Of course Lady Evelyn Carrington doesn’t have to come. Only a promise binds them, she to bring her name and influence to the opening of the Tea-Shop, and Luke to bring himself to her house in London. The deal, a Devil’s pact as it may well prove, was made the night she stayed at the Nelson. Milady said she’d help if in return he’d take tea with her. Though shamed to think it Luke wonders if the invitation isn’t more about eating a slice of Milady rather than strawberry tart.
/> ‘You’ll come to my house in London and I shall paint you,’ was what she said.
‘I’ll come to your house but I don’t know about sit for painting.’
‘So you’re making rules, are you, Mr Wolf? I thought you needed my help.’
‘I do! Or rather she does, your friend. She needs it bad.’
‘Then place no barriers on friendship and I’ll place none; who knows we may both succeed in our desires.’ A fairy goblin she’d drifted away in the moonlight. ‘One thing more,’ she’d paused. ‘I want you there when I do bring friends.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘At Ju-ju’s little cafe.’
‘Oh no, you don’t need me! I’ll only act like a fool.’
‘No you won’t. You’ll be what you are, rather splendid.’
Now he’s here, Mr Splendid, crumbling cake with sticky fingers. ‘Thanks for coming, Joe.’
Joe shrugged. ‘Folk can be so bloody cruel.’
‘So they can.’
Luke stared out as people stared in. It’s the same crowd that always makes the rules, August Simpkin’s wife and her minions, them that sings hymns and talks of Christian charity but are first to put the boot in. Every one of them peers into this goldfish bowl hoping to see a dainty little fish gasp for air.
‘Is your Mam coming?’ whispered Joe.
‘I’m hoping so. I told her straight if she doesn’t me and her are done.’
‘Women can be awkward about such things especially when beauty is involved. My missis was none too pleased but I can’t help that. Madam’s been kindness itself to me. I’ll not stand by and see her crushed. Talkin’ of standin’ by did you hear some bloke’s hangin’ about the cottage again?’
Luke’s stomach jolted. ‘No I didn’t!’
‘Aye, more fag ends on t’floor and a cigar butt! What do you make of that?’
‘I don’t know but I don’t like it.’
‘I got the constable to take a look, not that he was much use.’
‘Maybe not but at least word will travel. That might keep ‘em off.’
‘Here hold on!’ Joe craned his neck. ‘I think I see your Mam’s coming down t’road. It looks to me like you’ve won a battle, lad, if not the war.’
Dressed in best blue silk and feathered hat Nan Roberts bounced through the door. Luke got his feet. ‘You came?’
‘So it would seem.’
‘Thank you, Ma.’
‘Don’t be too hasty with your thank-yous, Luke Roberts. I’m here and I’m havin’ a cup of tea and then I’m off. I’ve things to do.’
‘I don’t mind.’ Luke sat down again his heart a little easier. ‘You came. That’s all that matters. I’ll not forget.’
‘Make sure you don’t!’ Nan settled her skirts and then waved the menu at Dottie. ‘Well I’m here young woman! If you’re ready to wait on I am ready to be served.’
Colour high and eyes brilliant Julianna arrived at a rush. ‘Dearest, Nan!’ She hugged Nan, and Nan, Luke could tell, was overcome with remorseful affection and hugged her back. ‘Alright then, Anna,’ Nan blinked through brilliant blue parrot feathers. ‘We’re here and as friends we shall sink or swim together.’
The tea-pot arrived. Nan is sipping and crooking her little finger and out-staring onlookers, her face stern but her eyes sparkling and her ginger-up.
Joe is grinning and so are the maids. They’re making the best of a bad job.
They sat for a while, tea spoons rattling, and then Joe gestured. ‘What’s goin’ on outside?’ They looked. The window was clear, not a soul peering in. What’s more the road was free of traffic not a cart or hansom in sight.
Joe stood up. ‘There’s a right kerfuffle goin’ on out here,’ he said craning his neck. ‘There’s Bobbies in the road directin’ traffic.’
‘Directing traffic?’
‘Aye, policemen everywhere.’
A carriage rolled up with a uniformed chauffeur at the wheel. Two men got out. Toffs dressed in top hats and frock-coats they entered the tea-shop.
‘What’s to do?’ whispered Joe.
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Luke whose brain was buzzing with a million ideas!
The two men, Court equerries they were to learn, talked with Julianna who by degrees was pale, then pink, and then pale again. As Joe said police were clearing the road and herding folk onto the path. There was a buzz in the air and a murmur. The murmur became a roar. People were cheering and shouting! Another carriage pulled up, and then another, this one a big open topped landau, horses gleaming and pennants flying, and sitting in the back, smiling and nodding, the cause of the kerfuffle.
‘Oh my Lord!’
Luke’s back froze. She’s done it! Lady Eve Carrington has kept her promise. She’s brought friends and influence alright. My word has she!
Nan is fumbling with her bag. ‘It is him isn’t it?’ she squeaks.
‘Be still Ma,’ Luke put his hand on her knee. He turned to Joe. ‘If I were you, Joe, I’d keep your eyes peeled and your mouth shut. I reckon we’re going to see and hear things today we’re never likely to see or hear again.’
One of the equerries went back to the car. There was a brief conversation with the occupant and then the equerry approached their table.
Luke is on his feet.
The equerry bowed. ‘Mr Luke Roberts?’
‘Aye, that’s me.’
‘Good day to you, sir, and to you, Madam, and you, sir. I am Hugh Beresford Fitzwilliam equerry to the Court of St James. As I’m sure you are by now aware Mrs Dryden is to receive a visitor. The visitor and friends are here to celebrate the opening of the...’ the equerry read from the piece of paper, ‘...the Needed and Necessary Tea-Shop.’
Luke picked up his hat. ‘And you’d prefer us to leave.’
‘No sir, not at all! On the contrary we would prefer you to stay.’
‘That’s if you want to,’ Julianna interjected.
‘We want what you want,’ said Luke.
‘Then please stay!’
‘And us staying?’ Luke kept talking, his heart thumping in his chest and his throat dry amazed at his cheek. ‘Does it meet with the visitor’s approval?’
The equerry bowed. ‘I thank you for your courtesy. Mrs Dryden’s wishes were communicated to the right quarter and thought only right and proper. First come, first served, I believe, is the general opinion. And so, not wishing to disturb your company I am pleased to offer His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales’ cordial greetings and to beg you to continue to take your tea.’
‘Well I’ll be buggered,’ said Joe.
‘Yes,’ said Luke. ‘And me too.’
The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur, Luke’s guts in a constant knot, not so much for himself but for Julianna. Gown rustling and hands steady she seemed calm enough but having studied her face Luke knew when she was happy and when she sad. Matty meeting the Prince of Wales was her moment of joy, the little lad bowing, and Kaiser, the dog, extending a paw, a Union Jack kerchief tied about his neck. The Prince was then heard to adjudge Matty ‘a jolly little chap’ and the tea-party a ‘delightful interlude’. As for the rest of the company if their smiles and the amount of running up and down by the maids is to go by then they too found it delightful.
The person who did enjoy the day was Nan. Eyes bright as raisins she sat observing all. Once she even let out a squeak of laughter which was quickly smothered. There was such delight in that sound Luke knew memories were being stored away beneath her feathered hat and that for the rest of her life occasion would be found for Nannette Roberts to say, ‘ this reminds of the time I took tea with His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales.’
Three-thirty the Royal Party is on the move. Luke and the others hovered. ‘I suppose we mun stay until he goes,’ hissed Joe.
‘Aye, we must wait it out.�
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‘I can’t get over it,’ whispered Joe. ‘I really can’t. You wait til I tell the missis. She’ll be talkin’ about this from now until Doomsday.’
‘And why not,’ said Nan smoothing her frock. ‘You can be sure I’ll make plenty of it. Sippin’ tea with Royalty is somethin’ to talk about. Ooh the church wives that now wish they were in my place! Hah! They’ll be spittin’ feathers!’
‘Aye, up!’ Joe nudged Luke. ‘He’s leavin’.’
There was a general movement to the door, hands were shaken and kisses exchanged. Prince Albert reminded Luke of the German doctor, Adelman, the same build and whiskers. Until viewed through the eyes of Majesty he is as every other man but when he stands all stand with him, he moves and is transformed into Light, Halley’s Comet entrained by lesser comets.
Elegant and affable he acknowledged Nan’s curtsey and nodded to Luke and Joe. ‘He likes our dear madam,’ said Joe. ‘Look at him smilin’ fit to bust!’
‘Yes and kissin’ her hand,’ said Nan.
Luke was silent. No need for comment. You’d be blind not to see what was going on. Lady Carrington may have all kinds of charm and the tea-party a delightful interlude but a cup of tea and a bun didn’t bring this man to the door. He came to see the Faun Surprised.
It was Freddie Carrington who told Luke of the paintings. The Carringtons were booked to stay until Sunday. Sunday evening Milady dined out which left the Honourable Frederick alone, a wine glass in his hand and a Black Dog curled at his feet. Black Dog, two words that so aptly describe the way a soul howls when trapped in a pit paws bloodied from trying to get out.
The Black Dog is known to Luke. Since Jacky’s death a creature like that often mouths his ankles. It’s one of the reasons he won’t keep a dog, he howls enough for two. Sunday evening and the Public Bar empty Luke had talked to Freddie. He asked what had happened to pull him down. ‘My Pa happened,’ was the answer, ‘my Pa and the despair that comes when trying to set one’s feelings down on canvas.’ Freddie then said in his opinion only God and Leonardo Di Vinci could paint a decent picture. He said he, Freddie, is so on fire with love for the world any brush he picks up turns to ash. ‘Evie burns in the similar way but as ice and so is able to set things down. You should see what she did with the woman you love, captured her cold and clear.’
Fragile Blossoms Page 21