Ragged Rose

by Dilly Court

  ‘We have a busy day ahead, Corrie. We’ll need to go through our routines again and make sure our costumes are ready for tomorrow night.’

  Cora yawned and stretched. ‘Did you have to wake me so early? I was dreaming of Portmorna House. Vere was holding a ball in the grounds and we were dancing in the moonlight.’

  ‘The only dancing you’ll do today, my girl, is on the stage at Wilton’s.’ Rose pulled the bedclothes off her sister and tickled her feet. ‘Get up, lazybones.’

  On Saturday evening the theatre was packed, and Rose could feel the energy and enthusiasm of the audience, which was both encouraging and exciting. The orchestra played the introduction and the juggler was on first, but it became apparent that he had been drinking and he dropped the clubs several times before the audience finally lost patience and started hurling empty beer bottles at him. The smashing of glass was drowned out by their booing and hissing, and the defeated performer staggered off the stage, leaving one of the hands to sweep up the debris while the orchestra struck up a cheerful tune.

  The magician was on next, but the audience were not in the mood to be fooled by sleight of hand. He received little better treatment than the juggler, and was pelted with rotten tomatoes, which made a mess, but were not as dangerous as shards of broken glass. The manager, who appeared to be slightly intoxicated himself, urged Polly and Fancello to go on stage.

  ‘Good luck,’ Rose said, blowing a kiss to them as they made their entrance.

  ‘I hope the audience don’t throw anything,’ Cora whispered.

  But the orchestra had struck up the intro for ‘The Ratcatcher’s Daughter’, which, despite the jolly tune, was the tragic tale of a young sprat-seller from south of the river and her doomed love for the vendor of silver sand who lived in Westminster. Polly and Fancello rendered a touching version of the song, but a ripple of amusement ran through the audience, and tears of laughter instead of sorrow greeted the heart-rending conclusion when the heroine drowned in the river, and the hero killed himself and his poor donkey. Perhaps it was the emotion that Polly and Fancello put into the song, or, Rose thought, because Fancello was overdramatic. Whatever it was that caused the audience such hilarity, Polly and Fancello were troupers to the last. They took their bows and left the stage, but Polly was clearly upset.

  ‘Why are they laughing at us, Sandro?’ she demanded. ‘It wasn’t funny.’

  Fancello hung his head. ‘I don’t know.’

  Rose placed her arm around her aunt’s shoulders. ‘They’re clapping, Aunt Polly. They’re calling for an encore.’

  ‘They’re mocking us,’ Polly said bitterly. ‘I’ve never been so insulted.’

  ‘They’re not throwing things.’ Cora stuck her head round one of the great steel pillars that supported the roof. ‘They want more.’

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ The manager gave Fancello a shove. ‘Go on. Keep them laughing. You’re a great success.’

  ‘I suppose we’d better,’ Polly said, nervously. ‘We don’t want to upset the mob element.’

  ‘Very well.’ Fancello led her back on the stage. He signalled to the conductor. ‘“The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze”, please, maestro.’

  This brought a storm of applause, whistles and shouts of approval. Fancello sang the lyrics and Polly, getting into the spirit of the evening, joined in with the chorus while she danced around the stage. The audience needed little encouragement to join in, and they clapped enthusiastically, calling for more.

  ‘That’s a hard act to follow,’ Rose said in an undertone.

  Cora nodded. ‘I know. Thank goodness we’ve got the tumblers before we go on. I’m afraid we might be an anticlimax after this.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Rose said stoutly. ‘We’ll be fine.’

  As they took their final bows, Rose had the satisfaction of having been proved right. The Sunshine Sisters had been a success. They had performed two encores and the audience were reluctant to let them go, but eventually it was all over; the stage make-up was removed and the costumes hung carefully on hooks in the dressing room they shared with Polly and the magician’s young assistant.

  As they left the theatre Cora gave a cry of pleasure at the sight of Joshua, who was waiting for them in the narrow alley. He came towards them, smiling. ‘You were all wonderful. I think the audience would have rioted but for your act, Miss Day and Signor Fancello. I thoroughly enjoyed it.’

  Polly pursed her lips. ‘Hmm, it didn’t go as planned.’

  ‘But we were a hit, Paloma,’ Fancello said softly. ‘They loved us.’

  ‘They laughed. We are not a comedy act.’

  ‘It’s better to laugh than to throw bottles.’ Fancello winked at Rose. ‘Tell your aunt that she was wonder-ful, and the audience adored her.’

  ‘He’s right, Aunt Polly.’ Rose nodded in agreement. ‘Making people happy is a gift.’

  ‘How true.’ Joshua smiled shyly. ‘Might I walk you home, Cora?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘The street where we’re living isn’t in a very nice area, and it wouldn’t be safe for you to walk home from there unaccompanied.’

  ‘Cora is right.’ Rose nodded emphatically. ‘Perhaps it would be better if you went straight home, Joshua. We would hate to place you in danger.’

  ‘I’m used to venturing into troubled areas.’ Joshua proffered his arm to Cora and then to Rose. ‘I’d be honoured if you would allow me to walk with you.’

  It was impossible to refuse, and they fell in step behind Polly and Fancello, but Rose’s thoughts were far away as they returned to Shorter’s Rents in the cool of a summer’s evening. She was elated after their performance, but there was something lacking, and it was not just the comfort and security of the house in Old Street that she missed. She regretted leaving Portmorna without having said goodbye to Vere and Bennett. It had been a decision brought about by panic, and the realisation that she felt more for Bennett Sharpe than she had previously cared to admit. He was an enigma. At times she had thought he had feelings for her, but then he seemed to retreat, hiding behind the professional façade he presented in court. Vere loved her, or at least he thought he did. He was lonely, she knew that, and he needed a wife, but he did not really know her. She was not a quiet country girl who would be content to run the house, bear his children and ask for little more than a kind husband and a lovely home. She had come to know herself a little better since their old world had been torn apart, and she had discovered a spirit of independence she had not known she possessed. If she were to marry, her husband must be a man who would respect her as an individual and allow her the freedom to express herself.

  Cora and Joshua were chatting together, and Rose was happy to keep her own counsel. Ahead of them she could hear Polly and Fancello going over their act in minute detail.

  They arrived in Shorter’s Rents to find a street fight in progress. Several men, very much the worse for drink, were throwing wild punches and their womenfolk crowded round screaming insults and encouragement. Their young children clung to their skirts, sobbing, and were in danger of being trampled underfoot.

  Before any of them could stop him Joshua had waded into the fray. Cora turned to Rose, white-faced and trembling. ‘He’ll be killed.’

  Polly hurried to their front door and rattled the knocker. ‘Let us in.’ She turned to glare at Fancello. ‘Don’t stand there. Do something.’

  ‘Take Cora inside,’ Rose said, thrusting her sister into his arms.

  Fancello drew himself up to his full height. ‘No. It is time that Alessandro Fancello showed his woman that he is a man.’ He put Cora behind him and marched up to Joshua, who was fending off a couple of drunken men. ‘Stop this now. There are women and children present. Are you animals or men?’

  A startled silence was followed by grunts and groans as the injured fighters scrambled to their feet.

  ‘Who are you, old man?’ The oldest and most aggressive of the brawlers square
d up to Fancello, flexing his muscles. ‘Fight me, then.’

  Rose caught Fancello by his coat-tails. ‘Leave them. Come indoors.’

  ‘No, Rose. I will deal with this.’ Fancello turned to Joshua. ‘Take her inside.’

  Rose shook her head. ‘Never mind me, Joshua. See if you can calm things down.’

  Joshua moved to stand between Fancello and his aggressor. ‘I beg of you to stop this, my man. It’s not the way.’

  ‘I ain’t your man. I’m Malachy Woods and I run things round here. Go back to your church, holy man. There is no god in Shorter’s Rents.’

  Joshua opened his mouth to protest, but Fancello edged him out of the way. He threw back his head and burst into a heartfelt rendition of ‘Ave Maria’. His fine baritone voice filled the night air and the crowd moved back. They stood in silence, some with heads bowed as they listened to him sing, even though none of them, except Joshua, would have understood the Latin. Even the children were silent, and then, with the voice of an angel, Polly joined in. Rose stood transfixed by the scene. Blood was running freely, but the men seemed to have lost the desire to fight. Fancello brought the aria to an end, turned and walked slowly into the house with Polly at his side.

  Rose caught Joshua by the hand. ‘Come in and wait until they’ve gone,’ she said in a low voice.

  ‘Thank you, but I’d better be on my way. That was quite incredible, Rose. I’ll use that in my sermon tomorrow. As William Congreve so rightly said: “Music has charms to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.” I feel humbled by the experience.’ He walked away slowly, and left the alley unmolested.

  Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest, but Ethel, Sukey and Maisie were intent on cleaning the house until it met with their high standards. Polly and Fancello had not risen from bed by the time Rose and Cora had eaten their meagre breakfast of bread and butter, washed down with weak tea.

  Cora left the table and reached for her bonnet and shawl.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Rose asked curiously.

  ‘I thought I’d attend matins at St Matthew’s. Papa would be horrified if he knew that I hadn’t been to church for weeks.’

  ‘Papa is easily offended.’ Rose stood up and placed her plate and cup in the stone sink. ‘I think I’ll come with you.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ Cora smiled mis-chievously. ‘I’ve only a penny or two in my purse. Would you happen to have enough for the cab fare?’

  Rose put on her bonnet and tied the ribbons into a bow. ‘There isn’t much left, but I can just about afford to get us there and back. It’s too hot to walk that far.’ She turned to Ethel, who was chopping vegetables to put in the stew pot. ‘We won’t be long, but would you tell my aunt that we’ve gone to church?’

  Ethel nodded. ‘Yes, miss, but be careful out there. I won’t be venturing far from home, and that’s a fact.’

  It seemed odd to walk into the cool interior of St Matthew’s church, with its familiar smell of musty hymnals, candlewax and sour communion wine. Rose kneeled to murmur a brief prayer before taking her seat on the narrow wooden pew. It was hard to believe that someone other than her father would be taking the service, and simply being here, next to the vicarage, was like stepping back in time. Memories of helping to clean the altar brass and silver, and assisting her mother in the arrangement of garden flowers in season, and greenery and berried branches in the autumn and winter, brought with them a sudden desire to be reunited with her parents. She would never completely understand her father, but he had come to Billy’s aid in the end, and Mama had done nothing to deserve the loss of her family.

  The congregation shuffled to their feet as Joshua announced the first hymn, and Rose dragged her attention back to the service. A quick glance at her sister confirmed her suspicions that Cora had an ulterior motive for coming to church. She was smiling at Joshua and her cheeks were tinged with pink. He had obviously just spotted her, and he lost concentration momentarily, but recovered quickly to lead the singing. There was the usual mix of quivering sopranos, gruff baritones and the exuberant efforts of those who were apparently tone deaf, but there was one voice out of the many that was achingly familiar. Rose glanced across the aisle and saw Bennett. He met her startled gaze with a smile.

  The rest of the service passed without Rose taking in any of Joshua’s heartfelt sermon, and she repeated the prayers like an automaton. Her mind had gone completely blank of rational thought. She had to wait until everyone filed out of the church before she had a chance to speak to him, and it was necessary to squeeze between groups of parishioners who had stopped to chat to their friends and neighbours. She thought for a moment that he had gone, but Bennett was waiting for her on the pavement.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here,’ she said breathlessly.

  He clutched his top hat in his hands and a gentle breeze ruffled his dark hair so that it curled around his head. ‘I went to the house in Old Street, and was told that you had all moved away. I was going to ask your friend the vicar where you had gone, but you’ve forestalled me.’

  ‘Joshua does know, as it happens, but why did you want to find us? Is something wrong? It isn’t to do with Billy, is it? The jury found him not guilty.’

  A slow smile lit Bennett’s eyes and his stern features relaxed. ‘Nothing like that, Rose. I wanted to see you and make sure you were all right.’

  ‘Thank you. As you can see, I am quite well.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant, and you know it.’

  She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Cora was still giving her full attention to Joshua. Everyone, including her sister, would jump to the wrong conclusion if they realised that Bennett had taken the trouble to seek her out.

  ‘Did Vere send you?’ she asked suspiciously. ‘I know we left suddenly, but it was a long journey home and we needed an early start.’

  ‘You ran away.’ Bennett fixed her with a penetrating stare. ‘You didn’t stop to think that it might upset my cousin. He proposed marriage, damn it.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I apologise for the language, but you treated Vere badly, Rose. He deserved better from you.’

  She raised her chin and looked him in the eye. ‘Perhaps he did, but I refused him twice, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I’m sorry if I hurt him, but he was taking advantage of my vulnerable situation.’

  ‘Put like that it makes a difference. I didn’t realise he had been importuning you.’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t put it as strongly as that. Vere was a perfect gentleman, and he is the kindest man I’ve ever met, but the truth is that I don’t love him. I could never marry for wealth and social standing, and I tried to tell him that.’

  ‘You were in a difficult position. I see that, but there’s something else bothering you that has nothing to do with my family. What is it, Rose? You can tell me.’

  ‘I suppose it was coming back here,’ she said slowly. ‘I was remembering happier times with my parents, and wishing that the rift between us could be healed.’

  ‘It can’t be insurmountable. I know your father to be a proud man, but I’m sure that deep down he cares very much for all of you, otherwise why would he take the trouble to travel all the way to Bodmin for Billy’s trial?’ He glanced over her shoulder. ‘Your sister is advancing on us with a purposeful look on her face. I should take my leave.’

  ‘You’re going? Is that it, then?’ Her heart was beating so fast she was certain he must be able to hear it thudding inside her breast. His expression was unreadable, and she was angry with him for not caring, and furious with herself for caring too much. ‘I suppose that now Billy is a free man, you’ve done what you set out to do, and you are going to move on to your next case. You’ve said your piece concerning Vere, and now you’re leaving.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘Is that what you want, Rose?’ Bennett fixed her with a look that would have turned a hostile witness to stone.

  She was momentarily lost for wo
rds, but was saved from replying by Cora, who came rushing up to them. ‘Bennett,’ she cried happily. ‘How lovely to see you, and what a surprise. How is your cousin? I was so sorry not to say goodbye after all his kindness when I was unwell.’

  Joshua had followed her and he held his hand out to Bennett. ‘I didn’t have a chance to congratulate you personally on your performance at the trial, but you were magnificent. Billy is a lucky man to have had you on his side.’

  Bennett shook his hand and he relaxed visibly. ‘Thank you, Vicar, but it was almost a foregone conclusion. With the new evidence and the confessions that were more or less freely given, it would have been ill judgement indeed had the jury come to any other decision.’

  ‘We really ought to be on our way, Cora,’ Rose said hastily. ‘We have a very busy week ahead of us—’ She broke off, biting her lip. She had not told Bennett that the Sunshine Sisters had returned to the stage, and there was no need for him to know that they had been struggling to survive. She neither wanted nor needed his pity.

  Cora stared at her blankly and then she smiled. ‘Yes, we have such a lot to do.’ She turned to Joshua. ‘I’ll see you next Sunday. I really must get back into the habit of attending church. Papa would never forgive us if we turned heathen.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s like to happen,’ Joshua said, laughing. ‘I might call on you in Shorter’s Rents before then. I sometimes visit that area.’

  ‘Shorter’s Rents?’ Bennett raised an eyebrow. ‘I know that place. Is that where you’re living now, Rose?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, but it’s only temporary. I’m sure we’ll move on to somewhere better soon. Now we really must go.’ She managed what she hoped was a bright smile. ‘It was nice to see you again, Bennett. Give my regards and apologies to your cousin when you next see him.’ She grabbed her sister by the arm. ‘Come, Cora. We’ve dallied long enough, and I’m sure both these gentlemen have much to do.’

  Cora followed her, protesting volubly, but Bennett caught up with them in long strides. He handed Rose a visiting card. ‘You’ll remember where this is, no doubt, but you can find me here if you need to talk to me. Should I be in court, just leave a message, and I will contact you.’