Ragged Rose

by Dilly Court

  ‘You’ve made your point.’ Bennett jerked his head in Rose’s direction.

  Vere spun round to face Rose and his cheeks reddened. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.’

  Rose opened her mouth to answer, but Bennett spoke first. ‘I won’t stand in your way, Vere. I’ll return to London.’

  ‘It’s probably for the best.’ Vere turned to Rose with a hint of a smile. ‘I have something I want to say to you.’

  Rose met Bennett’s steady gaze and for a moment it seemed as though he was about to speak, but he brushed past her. ‘Goodbye, Rose.’ He took the stairs two at a time.

  ‘Will you spare a moment to hear me out, please, Rose?’ Vere’s voice seemed to come from far away.

  ‘You’ll have to excuse me. I’m afraid I’m very tired. Perhaps we can continue this conversation in the morning.’ She mounted the stairs, moving like a sleepwalker. Billy had been right, she thought dazedly, but if Bennett had really cared, surely he would have fought for her. His last words rang in her ears as she walked slowly upstairs. ‘Goodbye, Rose.’

  It seemed like a final farewell. She did not look back.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rose was exhausted, but she could not sleep. The feather bed, which had once seemed the height of luxury, now felt suffocating and too warm for comfort. She got up and went to open the window. The briny tang of the sea mingled with the scent of damask roses and mock orange blossom, but their cloying sweetness was suddenly too much for her. She found herself longing for the smoky, industrial smells of the city; the wet pavements glistening beneath gas lamps and the clatter of horses’ hoofs on cobbled streets.

  The silence was broken by the hoot of a barn owl, and the bark of a dog fox hunting in the woods, but these sounds were alien to her ears. In London she might have been awakened by the night soil collectors doing their rounds, or the tramp of booted feet as the night shift in the manufactories trudged home, and the recently awakened morning workers dragged their feet on their way to begin a new day of ceaseless toil.

  Pale strands of light in the east heralded a summer dawn, and a gentle breeze ruffled the leaves of the ancient oak tree that stood sentinel at the end of the carriage sweep. Until this moment Rose had thought of Portmorna House as being the closest to paradise she was likely to reach, but she realised now that it was not for her. She was city born and city bred. Vere had offered her the chance to live a life of luxury, which would have been wonderful had she had any tender feelings towards him. The truth came upon her with the force of a thunder-bolt, and it was not Vere whom she loved with all her heart and soul, but if Bennett had feelings for her, he hid them well. Even if it were true, it was not in her nature to set cousin against cousin. The rift in her own family was hard enough to bear, without inflicting such pain on people who had been good to her.

  Billy was a free man, and well able to take care of himself and his bride-to-be. It was Cora who needed her now, and they were not going to hide away in Cornwall. The Sunshine Sisters would rise again. Rose giggled at the unintentional pun, but as far as she could see there was only one thing to do.

  She dressed quickly and packed her belongings in the battered valise she had brought from London. She hesitated in the corridor outside her room, listening for sounds of movement downstairs, but it seemed that the servants were not yet up and about. She went to Cora’s room where Maisie slept on a truckle bed.

  ‘Wake up, Maisie.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Maisie asked sleepily. ‘Is it morning?’

  ‘Don’t make a noise. We’re going home, but I don’t want to wake the rest of the household.’

  Maisie snapped into a sitting position. ‘We’re going home?’

  ‘Get dressed and I’ll see to Cora. If we hurry we might catch the road coach to Bodmin, and get the train from there.’

  Maisie scrambled to her feet and Rose left her to get dressed while she awakened Cora.

  It was early evening when they arrived in Old Street after a long and tortuous journey, having changed trains several times with long waits on draughty railway stations. Cora had been reluctant to leave the comfort of Portmorna House, but her mood had lightened when they met Joshua, Edric and Toby on Bodmin station. They had travelled together until their ways parted.

  Rose held her hand out to Joshua, who had seen them to Aunt Polly’s door. ‘Thank you for everything. I doubt if Papa would have come to Billy’s aid had you not taken the time and trouble to persuade him.’

  ‘It was nothing, Rose.’ He shot a sideways glance at Cora, who was hammering on the knocker. ‘I hope I will always be a friend of the family.’

  ‘Of course you will,’ Cora said, treating him to a bright smile. ‘You are always welcome here. Isn’t he, Rose?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Rose gave him a searching look. ‘You must be tired, Joshua. Go home and get some rest.’

  ‘I’ll call tomorrow, if I may?’

  ‘Yes, do,’ Cora said casually. ‘You know we’re always pleased to see you.’ She took a step backwards and the door was wrenched open.

  Sukey stared at them, open-mouthed. ‘Well, I never did!’

  ‘Let us in, you silly woman.’ Maisie pushed past her and dumped the valise at the foot of the stairs. ‘I hope Ethel’s got the kettle on, because I’m parched.’

  Cora stepped inside, followed by Rose. She stopped for a moment, taking in her surroundings. Aunt Polly’s shabby old house, with its peeling paintwork and flaking plaster, was a familiar haven where she felt safe. The faint smell of tobacco smoke wafted down the narrow staircase, and the sound of women’s voices and babies crying seemed like a heavenly choir. No doubt it would pall after a while, but Rose felt that she had come home. Beautiful as Portmorna House was, she had been a guest, and although she had been made welcome she had not felt entirely comfortable within its elegant walls. She had a suspicion that the feeling might endure, even had she married Vere.

  ‘I’m exhausted, Rose.’ Cora’s plaintive voice brought Rose abruptly back to the present.

  ‘You must be,’ she said sympathetically. ‘Maisie, will you see that my sister has hot water sent up to her room?’

  ‘And a cup of cocoa with lots of sugar,’ Cora added with a weary smile. ‘And perhaps a slice of bread and butter. It’s a long time since we last ate.’

  ‘Yes, miss. Right away.’ Maisie disappeared in the direction of the back stairs, followed by Sukey.

  ‘Do you need me to help you, Corrie?’ Rose asked anxiously. ‘You’re very pale. Do you feel faint?’

  ‘No, I’m just tired. Don’t fuss. I’m quite all right, in fact I’m very much better, if you know what I mean. I can stop worrying.’

  ‘You mean you’re not in the family way?’

  Cora blushed and averted her gaze. ‘I had to ask Maisie what to expect if the worst had happened. Now I know that there will be nothing to link me to Gerard, and I’m glad.’

  ‘As am I.’ Rose patted her on the shoulder. ‘Go to bed. I’ll make your excuses to Aunt Polly, and I’ll see you in the morning. Now that we know you’re on the mend we’ll have to start looking for another venue.’

  ‘Are you serious about returning to the stage, Rosie?’

  ‘Deadly serious. We have to support ourselves, and if I can repay some of the money we owe Bennett, then I will. I don’t want to be beholden to any man, least of all him.’ Rose left her sister to negotiate the stairs and crossed the hall, intending to knock on the parlour door, but it opened before she had a chance to raise her hand.

  ‘Rose, I thought I heard your voice.’ Polly flung her arms around her niece, enveloping her in a cloud of patchouli, tuberose and gin fumes.

  Fancello appeared behind Polly, and his moustache quivered as a broad grin almost split his face in two. ‘My Sunshine Sisters have returned. Come in and tell us everything, Rose. We’ve missed your company, haven’t we, Paloma?’

  ‘Do sit down, Sandro,’ Polly said impatiently. ‘Let the girl in, you silly ma
n.’

  He subsided onto a chair, eyeing Spartacus warily as the animal leaped off the chaise longue and stalked out of the room. ‘I’m just pleased to see Rose. It’s not a crime.’

  Polly tugged at the bell pull. ‘Have you eaten, dear? Would you like tea or cocoa? Where is Cora?’

  ‘She’s very tired and she’s gone straight to her room.’ Rose sank down on the chaise and braced herself to answer their questions, but she was granted a brief reprieve by Sal, who burst into the room, her face flushed and her eyes alight with curiosity. ‘Maisie tells us you’ve had an exciting time, miss.’

  ‘Don’t listen to gossip,’ Polly said sharply. ‘My niece would like tea and cake.’

  Sal’s mouth drooped at the corners. ‘Yes’m.’ She left the room, head bowed and muttering something unintelligible.

  ‘Wretched creature,’ Polly said, sighing. ‘It’s time she left and made her own way in the world. Now, where were we, Rose?’

  Rose launched into an account of the events leading up to Billy’s trial. Both Fancello and Polly were incensed by the treatment Cora had received, and Fancello declared that if duelling had not been made illegal, he would feel obliged to call the young man out. Polly treated this with contempt, but she was visibly moved.

  ‘That unspeakable cad should be horsewhipped through the streets,’ she said angrily. ‘If I hear a word of scandal involving Cora I’ll make it my business to let everyone know that Gerard Barclay is a rake and a philanderer.’

  ‘At least Cora has recovered from her infatuation, and the best piece of news is that Billy is a free man. Papa travelled all the way to Bodmin to act as character witness, and that, together with Bennett’s brilliant handling of the case, convinced the jury of Billy’s innocence.’

  ‘I’m so glad,’ Polly said, frowning thoughtfully. ‘But I wonder why Seymour had such a change of heart. Did he make his peace with you girls?’

  ‘No, Aunt Polly, the very reverse. It hurts me to say it, but Papa wants nothing more to do with any of us. He can’t forgive Cora and me for performing in public, and he was furious when he realised that Billy intends to marry a servant girl, whom I should add is a sweet creature and will make him a loving wife.’

  ‘Seymour always was a sanctimonious fool,’ Polly said angrily. ‘I pity my sister, but then she should have stood up to him years ago. Her compliance has created a monster.’

  ‘That’s a bit harsh, cara mia.’ Fancello moved to sit by her side. ‘Poor Eleanor is not as strong as you, and Seymour is a bully, despite his calling.’

  ‘I intend to visit Mrs Harman as soon as I am able,’ Rose said slowly. ‘I’m sure she could arrange a meeting between me and Mama, even if it means deceiving my father. I need to know that she is well and happy.’

  A tap on the door preceded Big Bertha, who lumbered into the room carrying a laden tray. She dumped it down on the tea table. ‘Shall I pour, missis?’

  Rose leaped to her feet. ‘It’s all right, thank you, Bertha. I’ll do it.’

  ‘Oh, very well.’ Bertha stomped out of the parlour and slammed the door.

  ‘They know that something is going on,’ Polly said in a stage whisper. ‘I won’t be able to keep it from them much longer.’

  Rose paused with the teapot in her hand. ‘Is something wrong? What is it, Aunt?’

  Polly and Fancello exchanged wary glances. ‘The truth is, dear, that the lease on the house has expired, and the landlord refuses to renew it. I’m afraid we have to move out at the end of the month.’

  ‘But that only gives us three weeks to find somewhere else to live,’ Rose said dazedly, ‘and what will happen to the poor women who live with you?’

  ‘They are only here on a temporary basis. They know that.’ Polly stood up and went to the chiffon-ier to refill her glass with gin, adding just a dash of water.

  ‘But Ethel and Sukey have been with you for as long as I can remember, and there’s Tommy Tinker, too. What will become of him?’

  ‘I don’t know, Rose.’ Polly drank deeply. ‘I wish I did.’

  Rose looked from one to the other and saw defeat in their eyes. ‘We’ll manage somehow. I’ll start looking for work tomorrow, and we’ll find somewhere else to live.’

  Fancello slapped his hand on his thigh. ‘She’s right, Paloma. We must stop bemoaning our fate and do something positive.’

  ‘But how will we settle the bills?’ Polly tossed back the contents of her glass in one gulp. ‘The charity pays me a small salary, but without it I will be destitute.’

  ‘What did you do previously?’ Rose directed the question to Fancello. ‘You were both successful performers in your own right, so why not form a double act. I’ve heard you singing together.’

  Fancello’s bushy eyebrows shot up to his hairline. ‘I can think of nothing I would rather do.’ He held his hand out to Polly. ‘We could do it, cara.’

  ‘We’re too old. Who would want to watch a middle-aged man and woman making fools of themselves on stage?’

  ‘You both sing beautifully,’ Rose said, warming to the subject. ‘You would take London by storm.’

  ‘I suppose it’s possible.’ Polly stared into her empty glass. ‘I was a star, but could I reach those heights again?’

  Fancello went down on his knees in front of her and grasped her hands. ‘We could do it, cara mia. You and I were always meant to be together. Now is our chance.’

  ‘And we must find somewhere cheap to live,’ Rose said firmly. ‘Perhaps we could take Maisie, Ethel and Sukey with us. I doubt if they could manage on their own.’

  Polly set her glass aside. ‘You’re right, my dear. We cannot give in when ill fortune strikes.’ She leaned over to kiss Fancello on the tip of his nose. ‘Tomorrow we will start rehearsing as Day and Fancello.’

  ‘Fancello and Day has a better ring to it, cara.’

  ‘No, dearest. It will be Day and Fancello.’

  Rose left them arguing and went to her room.

  Everything was packed and the rooms that once echoed to the sound of women’s voices were empty and silent. Big Bertha and Sal had taken jobs in the Lying-In Hospital, which were poorly paid, but offered accommodation and free meals. Polly had worked tirelessly to find homes for the remaining four mothers and their babies. They were settled now, although perhaps not in the best of places, but at least they were not in the dreaded workhouse. Their departures had been tearful affairs, but Polly had promised to keep in touch. Tommy Tinker had been taken on as a tea boy in the General Letter Office, and hoped one day to graduate to the sorting room. He was still sweet on Maisie, and Rose suspected that they had not seen the last of him, although Maisie herself feigned indifference.

  Neither the Sunshine Sisters nor the newly formed duo, Day and Fancello, had found work, but by a stroke of good luck Fancello had discovered a house to let in Shorter’s Rents, which he described as a narrow alley between Glasshouse Street and Dock Street.

  Rose took a last look around but this was not home now. It was not quite as painful as leaving the vicarage, where she had been born and raised, but it was yet another broken link with the past. She smiled as the memory of two little girls practising their dance steps to Aunt Polly’s somewhat erratic accompaniment on the piano came to mind. She could hear echoes of their childish voices as she and Cora had warbled the words to popular songs, with the ever-present chorus of babies wailing in the background. The infants were no longer here and the mothers had moved away. She sighed – it was time to move on.

  The larger pieces of furniture had been sold to pay for the carter, who was to take the rest of their belongings to Whitechapel. Spartacus was confined in a wicker basket and his angry howls had given way to a deep-throated keening that was even more distressing. Polly had left him in the entrance hall, to be picked up at the last minute and placed in one of the two hackney carriages that Fancello had gone out to flag down.

  Cora was last to come downstairs, having volunteered to check that everything had been removed f
rom the upper rooms. She joined Rose in the hall. ‘This is a sad day for Aunt Polly.’

  ‘It’s a sad day for us, too.’ Rose picked up the cat’s basket. ‘I hope the poor animal doesn’t decide to run away from the new house.’

  ‘He’s a horrible creature. I don’t know why Aunt Polly dotes on him.’ Cora glanced out into the street. ‘There’s the cab. Is that the first or the second?’

  ‘The second. Ethel, Sukey and Maisie went in the first one with Aunt Polly. She wanted to make sure that the furniture was placed where she chose.’ Rose followed her sister out onto the pavement. With one last look, she closed the door and turned the key in the lock.

  ‘Hurry up, girls,’ Fancello called from the cab. ‘No time to lose.’

  Rose placed the cat’s basket on the floor of the cab, and was about to climb in when she heard the sound of running footsteps. She looked over her shoulder and saw Joshua hurrying towards them.

  Cora’s cheeks reddened. ‘Oh, he’s come to say goodbye. How kind of him.’

  ‘Not goodbye, I think,’ Rose said, smiling. ‘Make sure he has our new address, Corrie.’

  But she was speaking to thin air, as Cora had run to meet him, and Joshua’s feelings were clear for all to see.

  ‘That young man is smitten, I think.’ Fancello leaned back in his seat. ‘Cora seems to like him.’

  ‘Joshua is a good man, and an old friend. He’s just what my sister needs, at present.’

  ‘Perhaps they will marry.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Rose said cautiously. ‘I’d like to see Cora happy again, but you never know how she’ll react. I’m not sure that she has recovered from her affair with Gerard.’

  Spartacus began to yowl plaintively and Fancello prodded the cat basket with the toe of his highly polished boot. ‘Be quiet, you ugly beast.’ He shuddered. ‘I cannot tell Paloma, but I dislike cats, especially this brute. He bites and he scratches.’

  ‘Then I’m afraid the feeling must be mutual.’ Rose leaned her head out of the window. ‘Hurry up, Cora. We’re waiting.’

  Joshua handed Cora into the cab. He doffed his hat to Rose. ‘I will call on you in Whitechapel, if I may?’