The Birthday Present

by Pamela Oldfield

  Rose was determined not to be dissuaded. ‘If he’s a friend of yours that’s good enough for me!’ she told him. ‘I’m tremendously grateful, Steven.’

  He closed his eyes. ‘Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. I don’t want everyone blaming me if you get . . . led astray.’ He fingered his jaw gingerly, cursing Markham – both for hurting his jaw and for putting him in an awkward position with regard to Rose . . . If his brother ever found out there would be hell to pay. Steven knew that for a certainty. Not that he imagined Marcus felt anything for the girl, that was hardly likely on past experience, but he might feel responsible because he had introduced her to the family.

  ‘I think you should go to a dentist,’ Rose told him. ‘Your jaw looks a bit swollen to me. Have the tooth out if he can’t do anything with it.’

  Steven gave her a long look which she found unfathomable, then got up and walked to the door. ‘You’d better go and find Marcus.’

  As he went out she jumped to her feet and rushed after him. ‘When shall I go to Andy’s Supper Room?’

  ‘This coming Monday. I’ll send a taxi for you but I won’t be able to come with you. I’ve got plans for Monday. Don’t worry. I’ll settle with the taxi in advance so you can ride home but after that you’ll have to make your own arrangements. Find out about the buses.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to wish me “Good luck”?’

  ‘Good luck, Rose!’ He headed for the stairs and as he went up he muttered, ‘You’re going to need it!’

  Three

  When the taxi arrived to take Rose home, Marcus and Rose climbed in and settled themselves on the leather seat. Rose began at once to tell him about the wonderful opportunity that his brother had set up for her. He listened in a way that she found irritating, showing no enthusiasm whatsoever and occasionally shaking his head.

  At last she stopped. ‘You’re as bad as your sister! You should be happy for me,’ she told him. ‘I thought you’d congratulate me but instead you’re po-faced. Don’t you want me to be famous?’

  ‘It’s not a very nice place, Rose. I do want you to be famous but not there. It has a bad reputation.’

  The driver swerved to avoid a brewer’s dray and Rose was thrown against Marcus who said, ‘For heaven’s sake! Not you, Rose, the driver.’

  When she had regained her position she said, ‘But Steven doesn’t think so! He recommends it so how can it be a bad place? I don’t understand.’ Perhaps he was annoyed, she thought, because Steven was being so helpful. Maybe he was jealous that his brother was interested in her.

  There was a silence and then he said, ‘They . . . that is some of them, are not nice people, Rose. Not to be trusted. I’m astonished that he recommends the man. What did Letitia say about it?’

  ‘That it was seriously seedy but that doesn’t mean—’

  ‘You should listen to her. Steven has no right to interfere and you should take whatever he tells you with a pinch of salt. A large one!’

  They sat in an unhappy silence until Rose said, ‘Well, I’m going anyway, whatever you say. It’s my first big chance and I’m not wasting it. I trust your brother even if you don’t.’

  ‘I know him better than you do, Rose, and he can be devious. I’m not trying to spoil the moment for you – why should I? Something tells me there’s more to this than meets the eye and I don’t want you to be exploited in any way.’

  Minutes passed. Rose said, ‘Letitia’s invited me to her wedding. I suppose you won’t approve of that either!’

  ‘How will you get there?’

  She glared at him. ‘By bus, of course, if I have to but she said I can be your guest because you won’t know anyone else!’

  ‘That sounds just like Letitia.’

  ‘Don’t you have any friends?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.’

  The taxi swerved again and the driver now shouted something rude to the driver of another taxi who retaliated by shaking his fist.

  Marcus groaned. ‘Of all the taxi drivers in London, I seem to have chosen the craziest . . .’

  He smiled briefly. ‘Letitia will be a happier person once she’s married. It’s important to her. Ever since she was a child she’s had ambitions to be rich. Bernard is the answer to all her prayers.’

  Rose was thawing a little. ‘I suppose we all have hopes for the future – like me with the stage. What’s your ambition, Marcus?’

  He hesitated, opened his mouth to speak but then changed his mind. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  At that moment their taxi forced itself in front of the other taxi which came to a juddering halt. Two elderly women stared helplessly into their taxi from the window of the other one and Marcus swore under his breath. ‘This is ridiculous!’

  Rose, who was actually beginning to enjoy the excitement, said, ‘It certainly is!’

  ‘Oh no!’ Marcus tutted as their driver nipped down from his cab and met the other driver who had also left his vehicle. They immediately began to use their fists and passing traffic hooted as the fight interrupted the traffic flow.

  ‘We’re getting out of this!’ cried Marcus and, opening the door, he took Rose’s hand and hauled her unceremoniously from the taxi. From the safety of the pavement they joined the crowd that was collecting and watched the two elderly women make their escape.

  Someone somewhere blew a whistle and a policeman could be seen hurrying towards them.

  Marcus said, ‘Come on. I’ve seen enough.’

  ‘But we haven’t paid for the taxi!’

  ‘And we’re not going to. He’s lucky we’re not reporting him for dangerous driving.’ He looked around him. ‘Good job we’re nearly there. I’ll get you home in ten minutes.’

  Clutching her bag, Rose resigned herself to the early end to her cherished taxi ride and trotted obediently beside Marcus. After a while she said, ‘You were telling me about your ambition for the future.’

  ‘I told you it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It does to me.’

  ‘Believe me, Rose.’ He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter to anyone.’

  Having been escorted to her home, Rose watched Marcus walk away and was immediately aware of a deep sense of anticlimax.

  ‘Cinderella after the ball!’ she muttered. Somehow the thrills of the previous evening had been thrown into shadow by the unsatisfactory ride with Marcus who, she now decided, was a mournful sort of person who had few friends, if any, and had a low opinion of the members of his own family. According to him, Letitia was a snob and Steven was not to be trusted. Marie alone remained a nice person in everyone’s opinion. She felt she had been robbed of all the happy memories of the previous evening but she put on a cheerful expression and breezed in, determined to impress her father with the details of her overnight events.

  He was slumped as usual in his favourite chair, reading The Sporting News. He had no shoes on and there was the inevitable hole in each sock where his big toes poked through. She knew at once, by the disgruntled look on his face, that she was about to hear bad news. As she deposited her costume on the table, he said, ‘Ruddy coppers! Can’t leave me in peace for a moment. Bang, bang on the door first thing this morning. I wasn’t even up! Damned sauce I call it, waking decent folk at that time!’

  ‘The police? What did they want?’ She eyed him nervously. ‘You haven’t done anything.’ She was immediately filled with doubts.

  ‘Asking stupid questions. Routine enquiries, they call it. I know what I call it – harassment! That’s what!’

  Alarm bells were sounding at the back of her mind but she dumped her bag on the table and joked, ‘Someone been murdered, have they?’

  ‘Murdered? Course not! They were coppers, not detectives. Making routine enquiries about some robbery or other. I gave them short shrift. Don’t expect me to do your job for you, I told them. You get paid, you put in the leg work!’ He scowled. ‘Well, don’t just stand there. Put the kettle on and make a pot of tea.’

&nb
sp; Rose said, ‘Was it Colonel Fossett’s place?’

  ‘Him and a few others. Fuss about nothing!’

  ‘He lost a valuable snuff box which had sentimental value. He was at The White Horse and they were all talking about it the other night.’ She regarded him anxiously. ‘So they don’t think you did it?’

  ‘Me?’ He gave her an indignant look. ‘I should ruddy well think not! They were just trying to put the frighteners on me but I’m too fly for that sort of nonsense. They said they could come back with a search warrant. Come back with anything you like, I told them. Bring Scotland Yard with you! See if I care.’ He sighed heavily.

  Rose gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘Forget all about them, Pa. Miserable lot! I’ll make that tea and then I’ll tell you about my private evening. I’ve got plenty of good news – oh! I nearly forgot. The housekeeper gave me some leftovers for you. They’re in the bag wrapped in greaseproof paper.’

  He perked up at once. ‘Leftovers?’

  ‘You know – sliced ham and a smoky sort of fish and—’

  ‘Smoky fish? What, like bloaters? I’m very partial to a nice—’

  ‘Not bloaters! I don’t know what exactly but it’s pink and smells fishy, and there’s a slice of the birthday cake! Help yourself, Pa. They’re ever so kind and I’ve got so much to tell you . . .’ She fled into the scullery to make a pot of tea but while she waited for the kettle to boil she hurried back to him. ‘There’s a sister named Letitia and she’s marrying this terribly posh man and she said she would invite me to the wedding!’

  ‘Invite you to the wedding? Never!’

  ‘She said she would! Because her brother Marcus – the one who collected me – doesn’t have anyone he can take so . . .’

  His expression softened. ‘Look Rosie, you mustn’t set your heart on it. See, people like that, they say things in the heat of the moment. They mean well but then they forget all about it. I don’t want you to be disappointed, that’s all. I don’t want you getting all upset when the invite doesn’t come. If it doesn’t, I mean.’

  ‘It will come, Pa. I know it will. Letitia is not the sort to—’

  ‘Just don’t get your hopes up, Rosie. That’s all I’m saying.’

  Rose swallowed an angry retort, knowing that her father’s concern was genuine.

  He said, ‘So did he pay you what he promised? Half a guinea, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, he did! Ten shillings and sixpence! I feel rich for the first time in my life.’ She grinned with delight but then looked serious. ‘And I’m not going to spend it all in a rush but . . . here you are!’ She drew some coins from her pocket and handed him three shillings. ‘Buy some cigarettes, Pa, or a few drinks – or even a few pairs of socks or a shirt.’

  He took the money with obvious disappointment. ‘Three shillings?’ When she failed to rise to the bait he sighed loudly. ‘And what would I want with a new shirt? I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘No, but I am. I’m going to a posh wedding and I’m going in style. Lord knows who I’ll meet there and I don’t want to look like the poor relation! I need a new hat and shoes—’

  ‘You mean you’re going to fritter it all on clothes!’

  Rose sat down and regarded him earnestly. ‘Pa, you have to understand something. Suddenly I’ve got chances to better myself and I mean to take them. For a start there’s the wedding but there’s something else. Marcus’s brother is going to introduce me to a friend of his who owns a supper room! He might give me a singing spot. On stage! And my name might be on the programme. “Starring Miss Lamore!”’ She struck a pose, arms outstretched, and smiled at an invisible audience.

  He seemed unimpressed so she rushed on. ‘A real job, Pa, and I’ll be paid regularly. I’ll be on the way up! You can come and have some supper and watch me sing. You’ll love it.’

  Her father’s eyes had narrowed, she noticed, and her heart sank. He was going to pooh-pooh it!

  ‘Oh yes? A decent chap, is he, this man?’

  ‘Well of course he is. Steven would never introduce me to somebody shady. I told you, the Bennleys are a very nice family—’

  ‘No, Rosie. The Bennley’s seem like a very nice family. You don’t know what goes on behind the scenes, so to speak. All families put on a face for outsiders. They’re probably no better and no worse than most.’

  Mortified, Rose snapped, ‘Like us, you mean. Like the Patons.’

  ‘If you like, yes.’

  ‘Dark secrets!’ She regretted the jibe as soon as it was uttered but too late.

  Her father looked uncomfortable. ‘Just don’t trust them a hundred per cent.’

  ‘At least the police weren’t knocking at their door before anyone was up!’

  Rose wanted to hit him. Now her father was spoiling everything, pouring cold water on her wonderful news. She said spitefully, ‘And please, Dad, don’t lose all that money on the horses.’

  ‘The horses?’ For a moment he looked puzzled; then he grinned. ‘Oh! The horses! Now when do I ever lose on a race?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know, would I, because you only ever tell me when you win!’

  Before the argument could become more heated she changed the subject. In a lighter tone she asked, ‘Now, do you fancy some ham and stuff? I’ll put it on a plate.’

  ‘Ooh, we are la-di-da!’ he mocked. ‘Just give it to me in the paper, Rosie. It tastes just as good eaten with fingers.’

  Fuming inwardly, Rose handed him the leftovers and brought in two cups of tea. Her father ate the food with exaggerated murmurs of delight, shoving it into his mouth with a total lack of finesse, and washing it down with slurped gulps of tea. She knew he was doing it to annoy her so she pretended not to notice and sipped her tea as serenely as she could and in silence. Aware of the unlovely spectacle her father presented, she was heartily thankful that he would not be accompanying her to Letitia’s wedding.

  That night, in Victoria House, Marie lay awake trying not to think about the fact that she was dying and that she would almost certainly be dead before Christmas. She had become accustomed to the idea but it still saddened her and the nearer her death came, the more she longed to be with her mother. Over the past months, the thought of dying in Victoria House appalled her. Letitia would become hysterical, Steven would make himself scarce, afraid of the embarrassment, and poor Marcus would struggle to deal with it, longing to help but unable to do so.

  Her mother and Gerard would welcome her and her mother would be a wonderful support but how was she to get over to France? Letitia refused point-blank to go with her because it meant seeing and speaking with her mother and stepfather and that she would never do. Steven was out of the question. He would make a hopeless travelling companion, partly because he was utterly self-centred and partly because he would be seasick – which left Marcus. Marcus would do his best but she needed a woman with her and she had now seen a way in which this might possibly be achieved.

  On the spur of the moment she rang her bell twice which was their code for Marcus. When he arrived, in his pyjamas and dressing gown, with his hair rumpled, she was reminded of Marcus aged fifteen, home from boarding school for the holidays. He never looked relaxed, his expression was always wary and even then she sensed a slight lack of connection to those around him. Now, not for the first time, she wondered what would become of him and wished she could live longer to be of some support.

  He said, ‘Not a moment too soon! I was just settling down,’ and sat sideways on the end of the bed. ‘How can I help?’

  ‘Marcus, please don’t be upset at what I’m going to say but –’ she took a deep breath – ‘I want to be with Mother when I die and not here in London.’

  ‘Oh but Marie . . .!’ he began but then stifled the rest of his instinctive reaction.

  She rushed on. ‘I know you’d all look after me and I know that if we begged Mother to come to us here she would come but then Letitia would leave and everything would be unhappy and I don’t want to even think about how it woul
d be. Please say you’re not offended, Marcus.’

  ‘I’m not offended. And stop worrying about everyone else. It’s your life and—’

  ‘And my death!’ She gave him a smile that made him reach out and take hold of her hand. ‘Mother would love me to be there with her. I know she would although how could she say so without stirring up old quarrels? The thing is, Marcus, I was wondering if we could ask Rose to come with me. I mean the three of us. We could pay her fare and something extra, couldn’t we? We could all stay for maybe a week – Mother would love it – and then you and Rose could travel back. And we needn’t tell the others I’m never coming back until it’s all over. They could think it’s just for a few weeks but then we could say I’m not well enough to travel or something.’

  Marcus stared at her in consternation. ‘But Letitia’s wedding. You would miss it.’

  She hesitated. ‘The truth is I don’t care, Marcus. I could write and say that I’m not well enough to travel home. Or Mother could do it for me. And we could send a present and a card. It needn’t upset her.’ She smiled wanly. ‘She might not even miss me. It will be such a big day for her.’

  He regarded her unhappily, considering the idea from every angle.

  Determined, Marie went on. ‘Imagine if I came and then collapsed or something, in the middle of everything! It would ruin the best day of her life!’

  Marcus nodded. ‘I take your point but . . . I don’t know about Rose. She might be willing to come with us but when? She is so set on her career and she has an interview coming up with the owner of Andy’s Supper Room. I’ve advised her against it but she’s determined to audition. It would be asking a lot from her, to give up that opportunity.’

  For a few moments they sat in silence, thinking over the ramifications of the scheme, and Marie watched her brother hopefully.

  At last he shrugged. ‘I suppose we should take one step at a time. We must first ask Rose if she would do it. If not, that’s an end to it. If she says “Yes” . . . we’ll take another step.’ He patted her hand. ‘How’s that? Is that enough for tonight? Will that make you sleep better?’