London Lodgings

by Claire Rayner

  She dimpled delightedly and Tilly marvelled at how lovely she looked. However angry Dorcas might make her, however much she distracted her, there could be no question in Tilly’s mind that Dorcas was a lovely creature to look at, and she was not at all surprised to hear that she had a man in her life again.

  ‘I cannot see how any man you know is of my concern,’ she said at length and Dorcas smiled again.

  ‘He has lived in these parts for some time. He knew the Spender family and spoke to me of them. That’s all. Then when Sophie told me of your beau in Brighton, well, I began to be interested. How could you, of all women, have a secret follower? And I thought, let us find out what we can. It was not difficult, dear Tilly. To sit there in the middle of the crowds as you did made you very visible. I stood myself and listened to you talk, out of your sight I agree, but you were so absorbed you never noticed me.’

  The apprehension that had filled Tilly earlier thickened and clotted inside her. She felt heavy and dreary in a most unpleasant way and she sounded it when she spoke. ‘How can you bear to be so underhand?’ she said. ‘Why are you so –’

  ‘As to that, Tilly, I must live by my wits. I cannot luxuriate, as you may, in being a good respectable person. That takes great security and peace of mind. For my part I have always had to fight for everything and never had peace of mind! First I had to fight my mother and then I had to fight the world. Now I have to fight you. It is not, you must understand, a personal matter.’ She set her head to one side and smiled winningly at her. ‘I like you, dear Tilly! I really do. I liked you when you were a silly infant and so gullible I could tell you the moon was made of blue cheese and you expected to eat it. But even though I like you, I cannot forget the need to take care of myself. And if that means that I must make use of my knowledge of your affairs to my own ends, well, so be it.’

  Tilly was sitting straighter, the tide of fear slowly receding. At least she now knew where she was. Dorcas was about to make some sort of bargain with her. She would make an offer of some deviant kind and try to beguile her into accepting it. Well, she would not and there was an end of it.

  ‘I have, as I say, met a most interesting gentleman.’ Again Dorcas dimpled, this time in a self-satisfied way. ‘He is a very charming and agreeable gentleman.’

  ‘I am glad to hear it,’ Tilly said and waited.

  ‘He has a plan to make us some money.’

  ‘Us? You are to wed then?’ For a moment hope lifted in her. Was Dorcas about to leave her house and get a home of her own? Could there be freedom from this ever difficult woman in the future for her?

  ‘As to that, I cannot say at present.’ Dorcas was sharper now, and Tilly knew she had hit a raw nerve. ‘It is business we discuss at present. He says that since the Exhibition people have learned a new taste for going out and about, but although there have always been clubs for gentlemen, places they may go to eat their dinners and be relaxed and comfortable, there are no such places for ladies as well. It is our intention to create such an establishment.’

  Tilly lifted her brows. ‘A place where ladies and gentlemen may dine together? But that is possible in a hotel. Or –’

  ‘Or, you were about to say, a house of assignation? Yes, it is possible in both such establishments for ladies to dine. But there are no respectable clubs where the two sections of society may enjoy a meal and a little gambling perhaps, all in a relaxed and comfortable milieu.’ The word tripped off her tongue easily and Tilly thought, somewhere at the back of her mind – this man she is spending her time with is an educated fellow. She never used to speak so.

  ‘So?’ she said.

  ‘So,’ said Dorcas. ‘We are to open one. In Knightsbridge.’

  ‘I see. And what has this to do with Mr Compton’s and my house next door?’

  ‘Oh, a great deal.’ Dorcas almost purred. ‘It will take some time for us to establish our club, and even when we do we will need all the available accommodation for our customers. I must go on living here for a long time yet.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Tilly and her hopes melted and vanished like snowflakes at noon.

  ‘But,’ Dorcas said sunnily, ‘I shall not be able to pay any rent, since all my available money is to be invested in our establishment.’

  There was a silence and Tilly said stupidly, ‘What?’

  ‘I told you. After this month, no more rent.’

  ‘But you cannot possibly – you must pay! How can I let you have rooms unless you pay for them?’

  ‘You just let me have them,’ Dorcas said. ‘It is very easy.’

  ‘But why? For what possible reason can you expect me to provide for you, with no recompense at all?’

  ‘I told you.’ She spoke as if to a singularly foolish child who would not learn its A B C. ‘I am to open an establishment for ladies and gentlemen with Andrew – with my friend. I need all my money – all my remaining money – for that.’

  Tilly shook her head. ‘It is out of the question. There is no reason I can see why I should.’

  ‘There is every reason,’ Dorcas said sharply. ‘Mr Egbert Spender is one of them.’

  ‘Mr – what do you know of him?’

  ‘That he would if he could overturn the will that gave you the house next door.’

  ‘He cannot. I am – was married to Freddy and even Mr Cobbold agrees that the house was left to me as I in turn may pass it on to Duff. Oh, Dorcas, don’t be stupid. Why else do you suppose I agreed to such a marriage but for Duff?’

  Dorcas shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I thought it one of your nonsenses. The man had been kind to you once, I supposed, and you could not refuse him. You are very easy to push along the road of others’ choice, Tilly.’ She laughed merrily. ‘Why, I am doing it now, am I not?’

  ‘Not this time,’ Tilly said grimly. ‘Oh, no. Not this time.’

  ‘I think I am.’ Dorcas was serious now. ‘I can make it possible for Mr Spender to challenge that will, you see. Successfully.’

  ‘I have my marriage certificate from Freddy,’ Tilly said. ‘Mr Cobbold has agreed that it is quite legal.’

  ‘Oh, it is a legal document, no doubt. But is it a legal marriage?’

  Once more the chill of fear was gathering inside Tilly. ‘Of course it is! Or rather was.’

  Dorcas shook her head. ‘It is of itself legal, that document. But the marriage – ah, that is something else.’

  Tilly shook her head, weary now. ‘You speak in riddles.’

  ‘Do I? Perhaps so. Well then, let me put it in clear terms to you. Did you and your Freddy ever share a bed? Did you make the beast with two backs?’

  ‘He was dying!’ Tilly cried. ‘The man was in despair! Such a question to ask. You are a disgusting creature, Dorcas, and I do not shame to tell you so. You lack every attribute of decent womanhood.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. Indecent women like me do much better for themselves. Oh, Tilly, you stupid creature! If you did not share the normal experience of a married pair with him then the union is unconsummated and may be set aside in law. If Mr Spender knew of the truth of that marriage do you not think he would take you to court as fast as may be?’

  Tilly stared at her, this time totally unable to speak and Dorcas leaned back in her chair and laughed delightedly.

  ‘Tilly, my dear, I have but to tell Mr Spender, through my dear friend Andrew, that your marriage was unconsummated and you lose your house. Now, I don’t think you’ll want to do that. For Duff’s sake, if not for your own.’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ Tilly said after a moment. ‘That cannot be true.’

  ‘But I assure you that it is. And anyway, how are you to find out if it is not? If you enquire about such a matter, do you not think that people will immediately consider why you are asking? And ask questions themselves? And is it not inevitable that such questions will come to the attention of Mr Spender? Oh, Tilly, do be sensible. I hold the whip hand in this matter. You can do nothing.’

  Tilly’s head was spinning
. To let the house go entirely would be no loss to her. She had her own house; what did she want with another which, as Mr Cobbold said, would be costly to upkeep? Let this woman threaten and try her menaces; she, Tilly, had but to sit still and refuse to listen and that would be an end of it.

  Suddenly the door flew open and the children burst in, Duff first, and Sophie trailing a little behind.

  ‘Mamma,’ he cried. ‘Oh, Mamma, there is a puppet show in the park, just like Mr Punch and Judy at the seaside! The muffin man came by and he told us. He said it is a rare treat for they never come in winter time, and it is the best fun. Oh, Mamma, take us to the park, please take us. Sophie wants to go too, don’t you Sophie? She wants to go so badly, Mamma, so we must, please, please, please!’

  ‘Hush,’ Tilly said. ‘Don’t shout so, Duff. It is not necessary. Now, wait a moment. You wish to go to the park?’

  ‘Oh yes, and I asked Eliza but she can’t for she has the cooking and says anyway it will soon be dark, and we may get there and find the man gone but I do so want –’

  ‘Eliza is right,’ Tilly said, and got to her feet. ‘No, I am sorry, Duff. No. There is no need to chatter on. I have said no and no it is. Off you go now and play by the fire in your room until bath and bedtime. It is absurd to speak of the park now – it is almost four o’clock.’

  ‘Oh, Mamma!’ he cried, but she held up her hand and he subsided and Sophie, who had said nothing but was still standing by the door, looked at her mother.

  ‘My Mamma will take us if I ask her,’ she said and her voice was very collected and clear. ‘Won’t you, Mamma?’

  ‘Indeed, I won’t,’ Dorcas said and smiled at her daughter. ‘But I will take you to the pastry cook’s shop in Brompton and buy you some jam tarts. That will be just as agreeable, will it not?’

  Duff whirled and looked at her eagerly. ‘Will you, dear Aunt Dorcas, will you? I would like that above all things!’

  ‘I am sure you would.’ Dorcas got to her feet and stretched, catlike, and then picked up her pelisse. ‘Well, Tilly, I will take the children to have their jam tarts. You may stay here and think of all I have said. It is very simple, is it not? And think how delighted the children will be. They will have each other now as playmates – and for always. Duff’s future is what you have considered, I know. I shall speak to you again at dinner, dear Tilly. Now children, away to fetch your coats, or there will be no time for jam tarts!’

  She was gone, closing the door behind the eagerly chattering children and Tilly sat there in her now rapidly darkening drawing-room, for the fire had died low at the same time as the sun had given up its short stay in the winter sky, and tried to collect her thoughts. It was very difficult to do so.

  By the half hour before dinner time she had exhausted all possibilities. Whichever way she turned, she faced yet another insuperable hurdle. Refuse to be intimated by Dorcas’s threats and Duff would lose his future security. Agree to let her stay without paying rent and their income would be sorely diminished, and she would not be able to restore it by letting the rooms to someone else. There seemed so little remedy.

  Even when she began to consider what she might do about the adjoining house, she found herself baulked. If she let it for the rent it would fetch, that would give her some income of course, but would it be enough? In the years since Alice and Freddy had decorated it and made it fresh and new there had obviously been deterioration. No doubt any new tenants would demand a repairing lease from her and she would have to spend money she could ill afford on doing it up. It would swallow much of the seven hundred pounds Freddy had left her.

  It was then that the idea came to her. There was no getting rid of Dorcas, that was clear. She had to stay, whether Tilly liked it or not. Duff could not have his future security taken from him. She had acted against all her deeper instincts in order to obtain it for him; to let Dorcas beguile her out of it now would be more than she could bear.

  But she could earn more from the adjoining house than letting it to a single tenant; and she began to make some drawings and calculations on a piece of paper from her small escritoire, remembering as she did the details of that house. Her visits there had been few, but the memory of them was engraved in her mind as deeply as acid engraved steel.

  When she had completed her calculations she went down to the kitchen where Eliza, with both her assistants being chivvied from place to place, was happily sweating over her dinner.

  ‘I done the curry, Mum,’ she announced as soon as Tilly appeared in the doorway. ‘A few onions and as good a sauce as you’ll taste anywhere, and I do beg you’ll try it. Now, here’s a clean spoon – Lucy, get a plate at once – hurry now, you snail!’

  She settled Tilly at the scrubbed table and set the spoonful of curry on the plate the panting Lucy fetched and then stood back to watch her as she tasted it. It was excellent and Tilly said so.

  ‘There!’ said Eliza in high satisfaction. ‘Did you hear that, you two? You do as I teach you and you’ll make cooks yet. If you wake your ideas up a bit.’

  ‘I think, Lucy, that you and Kate may take yourselves up to your room for a little while to rest before you must set about the dining-room. I wish to speak to Eliza,’ Tilly said, and Eliza, torn between wanting her acolytes there to dance attendance and gratification at being needed as confidante, nodded and muttered gruffly at them, ‘Off you go!’ and then at Tilly’s invitation sat down at the table beside her.

  ‘I have a plan, Eliza, that will involve a great deal of work for you,’ she said. ‘It will not be easy, but I cannot think of a better way to go forward.’

  ‘Anything you wants to do, Mum, and I’ll do it. You know that.’ Eliza folded her arms on the table and looked at Tilly expectantly. ‘Well?’

  In the shortest words she could find Tilly told her of the house next door and Eliza opened her eyes wide and pursed her lips at the news. ‘We got two houses? Well, fancy that!’

  ‘I could let it to tenants as it used to be, to one family you understand, but that would not give me enough income from it, to be candid. It will need repairs and care and that costs a good deal. Tenants of the family sort are rarely, in my estimation, of sufficient value. But if,’ here she paused. ‘If I spend some money on making the sort of alterations inside which we had done when Miss Cynthia came to join the Misses K and F, I estimate we could make for ourselves room for at least eight tenants, depending on whether they wanted sitting rooms or not. The dining-rooms of the two houses march, do they not? The one next door is the mirror of this one, so we may cut right from one to the other and make a dining-room large enough for all to sit and share dinner. I could stop just letting rooms and providing breakfast, you see, and offer them all they could wish for. The district has changed so much of late that there seems to be much demand for such accommodation, and I could, I think, make a very genteel large house out of this pair. It would look the same from outside, of course. That would be important. But here inside it would be one establishment with doors from one to the other. What do you think?’

  ‘I’ll need a sight more help, Mum,’ Eliza said doubtfully, looking at her sketches. ‘And they’d have to have their own rooms ’n’ all.’

  ‘I have allowed for that, Eliza. See? There at the top of the other house. There’s plenty of room there.’

  Eliza looked and nodded and slowly a smile curled her lips and filled her eyes. ‘I’d really be a housekeeper then, Mum, eh? I could wear a housekeeper’s black dress and no apron and have the keys at my waist, couldn’t I? And take the trouble from you.’

  Tilly smiled and touched the raw red hand in front of her. ‘Indeed you could, Eliza.’

  ‘Then you do it, Mum. It sounds a good use of the house to me. If it’s all right for you to do it. You never know with building works, do you?’

  ‘I agree,’ Tilly said and folded her piece of paper neatly. But she was not thinking of building work. First she had to deal with Dorcas.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  JEM
WAS CLEARLY uneasy about her request and she could not blame him. To ask him to be underhand was abhorrent to her, and she said so.

  ‘But who else can I ask, Jem? You are the best friend – indeed, I think the only friend – I have to whom I could turn. And who might know how to go forward on this matter.’

  ‘If I seemed uncertain, Tilly, you must not think it an unwillingness to help you. I would, as you know, do all I could for you. It is just that it is not precisely my way to – to –’ He shook his head unhappily and his voice trailed away.

  ‘To pry. I know,’ she said. ‘But how do you fight such an opponent as Dorcas except with her choice of weapon?’

  He straightened his shoulders. ‘You are right, of course. I don’t know of anything else you could do. It is outrageous that you should suffer so. If I could take all these burdens from you, Tilly, you know I would. If I were your – well, if I were closer to you it might be easier.’

  She looked at him and felt a wave of weariness, and the thought came welling up; it would be so comfortable to stop worrying, to stop having to struggle, to have a husband to whom I could turn and say, ‘You do it, my dear.’ and go back to being peaceful. But I can’t do that. I married Freddy for all the wrong reasons and I can’t do the same to Jem. He is too good and too kind.

  She managed a smile. ‘Not now, Jem, please.’

  He was all compunction. ‘I’m sorry, that was – well, now, let me see what we can do. You say she did not tell you this man’s name?’

  ‘Only his first name: Andrew. It seems to me that as a man of business in these parts you will know other men of business. It is like that, isn’t it? People who share interests flock together?’

  ‘We’re on good terms, most of us here in Brompton,’ Jem said. ‘I can’t pretend to be the close companion of my competitors, of course. Colonel Nichols and his wife are not precisely – well, you will understand. But otherwise, yes. Charlie is my very good friend and so are Mr Spurgeon and Mr Potticary at the chandlery shop.’