Keepsake

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Keepsake Page 6

by Kelly, Sheelagh


  Earlier than normal, with a nonchalant yawn he bade others goodnight and went to bed alongside his younger siblings, where he lay for another hour planning his next move and imagining himself with Etta, which took him to the brink of tumescence, at which point he forced himself to think of other things and shortly fell asleep.

  In the morning he made a bundle of the coat and other items to be pawned and tied it with a belt. As it transpired, it was not so difficult to smuggle it past his mother. After breakfast, during which he folded some bread and butter and slipped it into his pocket, he simply went back to his room, opened the window and dropped the bundle to the pavement, before hurrying outside to retrieve it as he went off to work. On his way, he called at a pawnbroker’s, one that was not too close to home; it wouldn’t do for Ma to spot his best coat in the window. Having thought of everything, and quite happy with the five shillings raised, he hurried onwards, his keenness not for work but to see his beloved.

  It was relatively swift and easy to get to her, for his first act upon arrival was always to go and check the corridors for boots. Today, after collecting a few items in order to feign normality, he tapped on her door using the special knock they had arranged. Within seconds he was inside, the boots were tipped onto the floor and Etta was in his arms.

  Relations were even better this morning, for she was wearing a nightdress which revealed every soft curve, her body warm, her black eyes heavy with sleep and looking more seductive than ever. In seconds, without even removing his boots, let alone his uniform, he was in the bed with her, repeating yesterday’s excursion. Ecstatic to see him, Etta proved most willing, but eventually pushed him away with a scolding laugh, telling him, ‘Enough! I’m absolutely famished. They’ve been baking bread since the early hours and the scent of it has been driving me insane.’

  His senses otherwise engaged, only now did Marty notice the aroma that elevated from the bake house, and apologised for the flattened offering he had provided, but she didn’t seem to mind, devouring the bread and butter with gusto and asking between bites, ‘Did you manage to find us a home?’

  ‘I did! Or rather I soon will have. I’ve three addresses lined up, so one of them should come up trumps.’ At her look of excitement he added, ‘Sorry I won’t be able to afford a whole house…’

  ‘Rooms will be fine,’ she assured him, munching happily. ‘Providing I’m with you.’ She seemed unable to tear her eyes from him, her roaming gaze making new discoveries. ‘Your fingernails are beautifully clean considering what you do for a living.’

  Surprised by this sudden tangent, he looked down at his hands. ‘Thank you. I always wear gloves when I’m handling boot polish; can’t abide filthy nails.’

  She nodded approvingly and, still munching, returned to the subject in hand. ‘So, when will you have news?’

  ‘I’ll try and go in my dinner hour.’

  ‘You know, we should really be arranging our nuptials too.’

  ‘Don’t think I’ve forgotten.’ He gave her a kiss. ‘But I haven’t time to do that and look for rooms, and my priority is to get you out of here.’

  ‘My priority too.’ She gnawed her way through the crust. ‘You can’t imagine how bored I’ve been – so I think I shall go for a walk and at the same time visit the register office.’

  ‘Ye can’t go out! What if you’re seen? It took me so much trouble getting you in here…’

  Etta gave a petulant sigh. ‘Oh, all right. Perhaps it would be more fitting for the groom to apply.’ But her despondency did not last long, as she informed him excitedly, ‘Since Father dragged me away from you I’ve been putting our enforced separation to good use by reading up on the subject of matrimony. Apparently, if time is of the essence, as it is with us, one requires a licence. Once we have that we may marry after one full day elapses. We’ll also need written consent from our parents – now, that’s something I can be doing whilst you’re away, I’m very adept at forgery. Though it might be rather suspicious if I use the hotel writing paper for both letters!’

  Marty laughed and said he would compose his own on more suitable paper. ‘But how much is all this going to cost?’

  Etta had missed this practicality. ‘Oh, I’m not sure – but don’t worry, I’ve some jewellery in my bag we can sell.’ At his objection she overruled him. ‘I insist! Everything is worthless compared to being your wife.’ The last mouthful of bread consumed, she leapt from the bed, soon dancing back to him with some earrings and two brooches. ‘There are lesser items too if you think you’ll be able to get anything for them, a blouse, a skirt…’

  Reluctant even to accept the jewellery, he told her, ‘What sort o’ man takes the clothes from his wife’s back? I’m not even sure I should be taking these. You realise I could be accused of stealing them?’

  ‘Really?’ She projected shock. ‘How disgusting. Should I write a note of authenticity?’

  ‘Might be an idea.’ After studying the precious items for some seconds, he put them in his pocket. ‘But I won’t sell them, I’ll pawn them; that way I can retrieve them later.’

  She replied lightly as she flopped down beside him again, ‘I shan’t want them, I told you they mean nothing.’

  Now that everything had been discussed, she cuddled up to him for more kisses. But soon they had to part again, Etta to pace the room in boredom and to survive on the brief visits that her lover paid her whenever he could.

  Noon finally came and Marty approached his superior. ‘Mr Wilkinson, please could I go out in my dinner break?’

  ‘What’s so important that it can’t wait until this evening?’ Wilkinson had no reason to forbid it, he just liked to be awkward.

  ‘My aunt’s poorly. Mother asked would I call in on her, see if she needs anything. Of course, I could wait till tonight, but if she were to faint and then fall on –’

  ‘Spare me the long list of ridiculous consequences,’ replied Wilkinson tiredly, but with a smirk of amusement, for at heart he liked Boots. ‘Away with you before I change my mind.’

  ‘Aw thanks, Mr Wilkinson!’ Marty decided to chance his luck. ‘Er, she lives quite far away, could I tack an extra fifteen minutes on –’

  ‘I’ll grant you ten. Any more and you’ll make up for it at the end of your shift.’

  ‘Oh, I will, sir – thank ye kindly!’ Marty rushed off to inspect the rooms.

  His first port of call was to be in what he regarded as a nice area, for if he couldn’t keep Etta in the manner to which she was accustomed then he could at least do his best. A stroke of luck occurred when he saw a friend who gave him a lift in his trap, thus saving him precious minutes. Taking this as a good omen, Marty was therefore pole-axed when his enquiry was rudely forestalled. Yes, there was a notice in the window advertising the vacancy, but it was accompanied by a proviso: No Irish.

  Dismayed, he wasted no time in proceeding to the next address. Alas, these rooms had been taken at ten o’clock that morning. The third place on his list was closer to home in a street despised even by those of his own class. He had regarded it as a last resort but now dashed there, praying that no one would have beaten him to it. Time was running out. He would have to take these rooms even if they were bug-infested.

  He was never to find out, for the rooms had already been taken. By now famished and despondent, he beseeched the woman who had answered his knock, ‘Do you know where there might be anywhere else to let – anywhere at all?’

  She weighed up his smartly uniformed figure before directing him to a public house along the street. ‘I think they’ve a room going.’

  Marty crumpled in despair. The Square and Compass was hardly the sort of place to bring a lady. For a second he considered the gold jewellery in his pocket, yet to be pawned. But no, Etta expected that would pay for the wedding; if he used it to rent somewhere better it might render them unable to marry and then where would he be? With little choice he thanked the woman and went to involve himself in swift negotiation with the landlord.


  His return to the hotel was accompanied by mixed emotions. True, the room was not what he wanted for Etta – classed as furnished, it had the barest minimum of items and was somewhat jaded – but at least it was somewhere they could be together as man and wife. It was only two shillings a week, and they could always move later – a definite possibility for he had achieved an excellent price for the jewellery. The moment his workload allowed it, he dashed to tell her this.

  Confined for hours like a restless zoo animal, unable to lace her own corset and having to leave it off, forced to occupy herself by brushing her hair a hundred times and inexpertly attempting to fashion it into different styles, an intensely bored Etta was relieved to see him back and even more thrilled to hear him voicing success. ‘You’ve found us rooms?’ She flung herself at him.

  ‘Aye!’ He swept her up, then tempered his excited response. ‘Well, room, singular – I’m sorry, everything else had gone, it’s all I could manage at the moment – but we won’t have to stay there long. Once we’re safely wed I’ll make a concerted effort to find something better.’ He hugged her tightly, releasing her to say, ‘You do understand you might have to be there on your own for a couple of nights, just till I can arrange the wedding? I’ll take you there when I get off work and make sure you’re safe, but I can’t sleep there, obviously, before we’re man and wife.’ Even if Etta had been willing he couldn’t let his parents down by living in sin.

  She nodded, enthusing, ‘Oh, I can’t wait to go there!’

  He crushed her again. ‘Me an’ all. How did ye go on with your letter of consent?’

  ‘Oh, that took me all of five minutes!’ She prised herself free and skipped away to fetch an envelope, which he put in his pocket.

  ‘That’s great.’ His arms soon encircled her again. ‘Only a few more hours to go.’

  Etta pulled a face. ‘More hours of biting my fingernails to the quick, imagining my father’s going to turn up at any moment. I’ll have them down to my elbows before tonight.’

  ‘Ah well, you can chew on mine if ye like – well you did remark on how clean they were, I thought ye might find them tasty!’ He laughed as she grappled with him, joyful that she shared his sense of humour.

  ‘I might have to hold you to that! I’m absolutely ravenous.’

  Marty admitted, ‘So am I, I didn’t have time for any dinner. Maybe I can get us something from the kitchen.’ Then, he squashed his lips to hers.

  It was whilst they were torridly engrossed that someone rattled a key in the lock, forcing self-preservation to override passion. Tearing themselves apart, they turned to stare at the door in horror, having no time to run for the person was entering.

  ‘Oh, I beg your –’ Joanna had been about to apologise, but at the sight of Marty in the arms of another she broke off, her jaw dropping and her eyes wide in shock. Then, in the same instant she had spun on her heel.

  ‘Jo, wait!’ A panicked Marty raced to waylay the chambermaid, catching her and dragging her back into the room where he forbade any exit by leaning against the door. ‘Please don’t give us away!’

  Joanna demanded to be past. ‘I want nothing to do with this!’

  ‘All right, but let me explain!’ With Etta an anxious spectator, he grasped the maid’s arms.

  ‘I don’t wish to know!’ Joanna wrenched free. ‘I just came to check that the room was fit for the next guest – and I see that it isn’t!’ She indicated the rumpled bed with the discarded corset upon it, then glared pointedly at Etta and Marty.

  ‘Guest? Oh, bloody hell!’ He clutched his head, before gauging her real cause for complaint. ‘Eh, it’s not what you think, Jo! Etta spent the night on her own –’

  ‘She’s been here all night?’ screeched Joanna.

  ‘She had nowhere else to go! She’s run away.’ Throwing a fond glance at Etta he decided to let his friend in on their secret. ‘We’re going to be married.’

  Joanna’s homely face looked as if it had been smacked. She became very quiet, staring at him as his excited voice babbled on:

  ‘I’ve got us a place to live! We’ll be going there in a few hours – at least we were, but if someone wants this room…’ His words trailed away in despair.

  ‘They’re not coming until tomorrow,’ Joanna heard her own voice say dully. Why had she revealed this? She could have been shot of her rival in an instant by stating the room was needed now. But that would solve nothing, would only propel Etta further into Bootsie’s arms.

  ‘Oh, thank God – saved!’ He threw his face heavenwards with a sigh of relief. ‘Thanks, Jo. You won’t tell anyone she’s here, will you?’

  Remaining stunned and dull of eye, she shook her mobcapped head slowly. ‘I’ve still got to prepare this room, though.’

  ‘I’m sure Etta won’t mind.’

  Hurt and furious, Joanna flared then. ‘I should think she won’t!’ Still in awe of her upper class rival, she directed her hissed objection at Marty, ‘And I’m not having her sitting on the bed after I’ve changed it!’

  Amused, but feeling pity for the maid who so obviously coveted Martin too, Etta responded quietly, ‘I shall endeavour to keep out of your way.’

  ‘And I’d better go before I’m missed,’ opined Marty. He dealt Etta a swift but adoring kiss, then indicated the garments that were strewn about the room. ‘It might be an idea for you to be packed and ready to leave.’

  She sighed. ‘I was hoping to have them laundered…’

  ‘Perhaps Joanna would oblige,’ he said thoughtlessly.

  There was a tight reply from the chambermaid. ‘Perhaps Joanna’s got enough to do. Perhaps on second thoughts she’ll come back when the sodding room’s empty!’

  Watching her stalk out, Marty grimaced at Etta. ‘Maungy devil, she’s usually a pal.’

  Etta beheld him lovingly and stole one of his words to rebuke him. ‘She cares for you, you eejit.’

  He laughed, then frowned. ‘What? No, surely…’

  His lover experienced a sudden flash of jealousy. ‘Was she the one who –’

  ‘No! I’ve never even regarded her as anything other than a workmate. Oh, bloody hell, Etta, how was I to know? She never said anything when I poured my heart out about you. What should I say to her?’

  Without revealing her deeply possessive streak, Etta prescribed delicacy. ‘I think you’ve said enough. You could provoke her and she might tell.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, she’s not that kind. I’d better go try and make it up to her somehow.’ He gave Etta a swift but devoted kiss. ‘I’ll see you later with some grub, and try not to fret.’ Juggling a collection of footwear, he hurried away.

  He did catch up with Joanna, but whatever excuse he offered only seemed to worsen the atmosphere between them and, finally heeding Etta’s advice, he left her to cool off. Besides, there was work to be done, this keeping him so involved that he never got to discover whether or not she had returned to tidy Etta’s room.

  Joanna had no intention of going back to that place of sin. In fact, by reliving every sequence of events she had worked herself into a fine lather and was by now so absolutely livid that she even contemplated telling the housekeeper about Bootsie’s subterfuge. But that would only get him the sack and it was not him she wished to be rid of. Instead, her anger making her physically ill, she approached the housekeeper with a request that she might be allowed to leave early. Presented with the chambermaid’s pallor and bloodshot eyes, Mrs Hardy was sympathetic and agreed. Joanna was on her way out of the hotel when she overheard a loud enquiry that halted her instantly.

  ‘Ibbetson,’ repeated the elder of the two gentlemen testily. ‘Check again.’

  Transformed by excitement, she made a detour and crept back to lurk on the perimeter of the resplendently-tiled main entrance. The porter on the reception desk was polite and did as he was bidden, but his answer was the same as before. ‘I’m sorry, sir, there is no one of that name staying in the hotel.’

  ‘Then I shall se
arch the place myself!’ boomed Mr Ibbetson senior. ‘For I have it on good authority that a member of your staff has abducted my daughter!’

  With other employees looking fearful that there was about to be a scene, a delighted Joanna rushed forth to solve the mystery, moreover to rectify her own problem. ‘Excuse me, sir!’ she whispered confidentially, ‘but I think you’ll find the young lady in room eighty-four.’

  No one had time to ask how she knew this, for with Ibbetson rushing off with his son in pursuit, Joanna’s superiors had enough to contend with in trying to keep this scandal from other guests. Withdrawing into the background, Joanna’s heart pumped with excitement as she awaited the ejection of her rival. With Bootsie safely tucked away in his rightful place there was no one to prevent it.

 

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