Her Heart's Desire

by Vivienne Dockerty

  “Shall I send a boy to fetch the doctor?” Bertha’s voice sounded a little peeved, because after the announcement it should have been her who was the centre of attention.

  “No dear, but bring me my smelling salts,” said her mother. “We’ll get her to come around from her swoon first, then see what she’s got to say.”

  Lily stayed silent, trying to keep in the pain and frustration that she was feeling, hearing that it was her plain-faced sister, Bertha, who her heart’s desire had chosen. She had snatched him away from under her very nose. How was she going to live in a family whose whole topic of conversation was going to be ‘The Wedding’ for the next few months? How was she going to live with a sister, who by all sorts of underhandedness had managed to snare her beloved? It wouldn’t do, she thought despairingly, but perhaps there was some way of winning dear Lawrence back again? Perhaps she could poison Bertha with deadly nightshade, or perhaps a rope stretched taut across the staircase instead? After coming down from serving Grand-mama her lunch, she would take such a tumble down those open stairs. Or perhaps she could insist that they travel together across the Mersey, to look at things for the wedding in the newly opened department stores. It would be easy enough to push against her sister, whilst the boat was tying up on choppy water and the gangway being laid. Though then she would be jailed for trying to drown her sister and hung by her neck at the gallows of Walton Jail. The thought of her own demise sobered up her mawkish thinking and she resolved to run away from the problem instead.

  Strangely enough, it had been Mabel that Lily had thought might have been the one who had snatched her beloved. It had come to her in an instant; she had realised that Lawrence wasn’t beckoning to her, he was beckoning to somebody else. Mabel, who had been sitting near to Bertha, with her usually healthy face as white as a sheet, had been looking over towards her animated cousin and was perhaps in love with Lawrence as well. Mystery seemed to surround her twenty-six year old sister and Lily wondered why she had been given permission to work in a local florist shop after she had returned from a finishing school a few years before, instead of making a suitable marriage. According to their mother, Mabel had attended an academy somewhere in the south of England and had excelled artistically, so surely a good marriage could have been arranged for her as well. Mabel wasn’t a plain girl if you compared her looks to Bertha, but it seemed that now her talents were being used in the creation of bouquets and flower arrangements and she was in much demand for her accomplishments in the busy little shop.

  “Lily, my dear.” Her whiskery, round-faced father held her by the hand, his voice full of concern as she lay still with her eyes closed. “Lily, here’s Bertha with Mother’s smelling salts. Do inhale them, my dear.”

  She did as she was asked, as she always did if her father made a request that she could adhere to. A heady smell of lavender brought her slowly to a sitting position and she smiled weakly and apologetically to her audience, who stood around her bed looking concerned.

  “Are you all right, Lily?” Grand-mama pushed her way to be at her side. “It must have been a bolt out of the blue hearing dear Lawrence make his announcement. We had decided to keep it a secret until he had completed his first voyage as captain of one of the largest steamships ever to leave the Port of Liverpool. We are very proud of him, aren’t we Hannah? A feather in the Patterson family cap.”

  Lily nodded, aware that if she were to make some remark other than a congratulatory one she would be in big trouble, so she kept her mouth shut.

  “I’ll stay with Lily for a little while,” said her father. “You all carry on with the celebration, but save me some of that cake.”

  He winked at Bertha, who was no doubt in a hurry to get back to her betrothed or at least to make sure he was helping himself to some of the delicious looking food that she had spent a lot of time making.

  “A bit of a shock, my dear Lily,” Mannion Griffiths said kindly, when her family had left her bedroom. “I’ve always felt that you were sweet on Lawrence, but it would never do, you marrying someone who’s married to the sea like your cousin is. Bertha is at her best running a home, preparing wholesome meals and delicious desserts, creating a safe haven for Lawrence to come back to on his shore leaves. You will need a man who can give you everything your heart desires. Someone like me, but younger by thirty years.”

  “I don’t want anyone else but Lawrence, Father. I have loved him since I was a little girl. I thought the feeling was returned, as he always made a fuss of me when he visited our home.”

  Lily’s voice sounded tearful.

  “Lawrence is kind to everyone, my dear; you have mistaken his kindness for affection, but he needs a homemaker for a wife, not a socialite as you will become one day. Bertha will fit the bill nicely, having been taught to run a home by your mother and her cooking skills are second to none, as you know. You are akin to a precious hothouse plant that would need a man to treat you with delicacy and with Lawrence away so often, he wouldn’t be here to do that. I am sure that the man you will marry is just around the corner, Lily. Be patient and put on a brave face for your sister’s sake.”

  “I was thinking that perhaps you could allow me a little time away from the situation, Father,” Lily said in her little girl voice, intent on escaping imprisonment with a victorious, betrothed sister. Her wheedling usually worked on her besotted father, but this time he appeared reluctant to agree. “Perhaps I could go for a week to Aunt Patricia’s in Southport? I know she would have me if you asked.”

  “I’ll have to think about it, my princess, as I’m not really keen to have you out of my sight. I seem to be slowly losing my authority in this household of mine that is full of women. Only Frederick knows who is boss; it’s a pity he’s away at boarding school.” It was said in a light-hearted manner, as Lily’s father liked to appear jovial, but underneath he was a hard-headed businessman, something he had to be in the world of coal distribution. There was always someone waiting in the wings to undercut his prices, when the acquisition department in the town hall asked for tenders to provide the boilers with fuel for the many public buildings that belonged to the borough council.

  He had fallen on his feet when he had married Hannah Patterson. Grand-mama Patterson had been left comfortably off when her husband had died of a heart attack in his forties, just when he had been riding high on his good fortune as the many pies he had his fingers in were beginning to pay him back with interest. Of course, for Mannion, marrying into the family had been a godsend, given that he was an astute minded man and was conversant with the world of commerce. He had worked as a clerk in a Liverpool financial institution, but he knew it could easily slip between his fingers if he took his eye off the ball.

  “Let me think on it for a few days, Lily,” he said, after kissing the top of his daughter’s head and fussing with a bed cover that had fallen askew. “Christmas isn’t far away and I rather think you will be called upon to help with the festivities here. Southport will be very chilly at this time of year and I’ve never thought your aunt’s place well heated.”

  Lily didn’t answer, just pouted instead, hoping that her father would change his mind if he didn’t get the smile he expected, but he turned away. Some other thing, no doubt, had sprung to mind for him to consider. She sat up when he’d gone and began to pull the petals off the discarded rose that she had still been clutching when her father had carried her to bed. Had Lawrence even noticed her offering? She had gone to all that trouble yesterday. Braving the threat of more rain as she walked to the florist shop after completing Bertha’s errand, knowing that it could have spoilt the nap on her raincoat; having to endure the attentions of that dolt, Charlie, who thought that just because he used to walk her home from school he had some claim on her affections and always seemed to be there when she turned a corner; going to great lengths earlier to make sure her appearance was suitably attractive to Lawrence’s gaze. She waited for the tears to spring into her eyes as she sat on the bed wallowing in self-pity
, but strangely enough they didn’t come; only a childish desire for some sort of revenge upon her sister, who was the cause of this unhappiness.

  A timid knock on her door heralded Ellen, no doubt bringing her some hot, sweet tea to aid the recovery from her shock. Lily sat erect and stared into her dressing table mirror to see if she looked suitably peaky, but it wasn’t Ellen who came into the room bearing a cup of tea. It was Mabel.

  “Oh,” said Lily, in a surprised voice. “I thought you were Ellen. Is that for me?”

  “Yes, I thought you might need it.” Mabel, quietly pretty but meek of manner, put the teacup and saucer on the lacy doily, which lay on the dressing table. Lily leant over to sip from it gratefully.

  “Tea’s good for shock, isn’t it?” Mabel said, sitting by Lily’s side and looking into the mirror a little self-consciously. “I knew this was going to happen yesterday when you came into the shop, blithely unaware that Lawrence was going to announce his betrothal to Bertha today. I suppose I could have warned you, but I wanted you to find out about men the hard way. Not that I have had much dealings with them, you understand, but they can make you do things that can bring on terrible repercussions… or so I’ve heard. I think that men are cunning like foxes, deceitful and sly and if they were not necessary for the continuation of the human race, it would be better to have them flushed down the crapper at birth.”

  Lily looked on in horror after her sister had uttered her pronouncement. It sounded so strange coming from the mild-mannered Mabel, who never had much to say for herself and who usually went straight to her bedroom when she came in from work. She only joined her family at meal times and never entered into any of the discussions that abounded, before being given Mannion’s permission to leave the room.

  “But Lawrence isn’t like that in any way!” Lily cried. “He’s kind, well-mannered, courteous and has never asked me to do anything that could bring on terrible repercussions. I think you’ve been reading too many books where the heroine falls prey to a bounder, Mabel. Although, thinking about it, when I was about seven, he did leave me sitting in a tree when we were all playing hide and seek at Aunt Patricia’s. He forgot all about me and if it hadn’t have been for one of the gardeners hearing my plea for assistance, I suppose I could have sat there for a very long time.”

  “Silly goose, you are such an innocent. Hasn’t Mother told you anything about… you know…? About when you become a woman?” Mabel broke off abruptly when she saw that Lily hadn’t a clue about what she was talking about and began to study her nails in minute detail, looking embarrassed. “You know, when you started your bleeding?” she said softly. “It comes and goes every four weeks or so and you have to wear a napkin?”

  “Oh, you mean my monthly visitor, is that when you become a woman? I thought that was when you were twenty-one. Anyway, what has caused you to be so against the male population? Father and Frederick are quite bearable in small doses. Do you know Mabel, I thought it was you before that Lawrence was holding his hand out to, not Bertha.”

  Mabel smiled ruefully, then answered bleakly, “I don’t think so, Lily. Lawrence is looking for a homemaker, not someone like me whose only talent is floristry.”

  “Didn’t you meet any presentable fellows when you attended the academy? Oh, you were so lucky to be able to leave this stuffy prison and travel.”

  “I’ve been told by Father not to discuss my time away,” Mabel said stiffly, getting up suddenly. “I am very fortunate that he allowed me to come back and take up employment at the florist shop, when many fathers’ wouldn’t have. Though at my age I suppose he had to, as I am destined now to be a spinster and will need his protection.” Without another word Mabel walked out of Lily’s bedroom, leaving her to mull over another curious twist in her older sister’s tale.

  They had never been close, because of the eight years difference between them and Mabel shared a bedroom with Ellen, so if there were any confidences to be had they would have been shared with her. Lily furrowed her brow, trying to remember any small clue that could have pointed to any discord in her family around two years ago, but there was none, other than that Grand-mama had ordered a carriage to take Mabel to the station, so that she might make her way to Liverpool to catch the London train. She had thought it strange, as usually Father would accompany his daughters to Lime Street Station in person.

  “‘Curiouser and curiouser,’” she quoted to herself, as she picked up Alice in Wonderland. She decided she would wait until Lawrence had left before she joined the family again. She didn’t want to see him, nor have to congratulate the happy pair. She could hear muted voices, a loud laugh now and again from Father, footsteps passing her room of the female kind. Then the heavy footfalls of Lawrence and her father, as they journeyed together to the male domain of the study, where no doubt they would be sampling a tot or two of the brandy that Lawrence would have brought with him from his voyage.

  She took her mind off the frustration of having to wait for his departure by reading a couple of pages from the book by Lewis Carroll. It always made her smile when she read about the white rabbit who was always looking at his fob-watch and the dormouse who was put in the Mad Hatter’s teapot. She would have liked to be Alice, experiencing a different world where all the animals could speak.

  Henrietta was her next visitor. Having just turned twenty-one in the summer, she had proudly introduced her beau, Matthew Tucker, during a family gathering in Grand-mama’s sitting room one weekend, when he had been invited to tea one Sunday afternoon after he had asked to speak to her father. Matthew was studying at the Birkenhead Theological College with a view to being ordained in a few years time. According to Henrietta, they had been introduced at a church fundraising event, where money was being sought for housing children who were destitute. It was a bit of a fait accompli for this dumpling daughter who had always gone her own way: a bit of a blue stocking if truth was told and quite happy to wait for her wedding day living in the bosom of her family. She shared a room with Bertha, whilst working for her father in his coal agent office in Hamilton Square.

  “I thought I’d bring you some of Bertha’s betrothal cake,” she said quietly, bringing in a tray with a matching cup, saucer and plate upon it. “ It’s quite delicious. I wish I had a light hand when it comes to baking as Bertha has.” She smiled down at her younger sister sympathetically then sat beside her after depositing the tray on the bedside table. “Are you feeling better now?”

  Lily nodded, feeling rather wicked in the company of someone who was going to become a curate’s wife. Only a little while ago she was thinking up ways to get rid of Bertha, so that Lawrence would marry her instead. Now she was being asked if she was feeling better. Better than what? Had her name been written in God’s black book?

  “I think it was all the people sitting together in Grand-mama’s sitting room,” she improvised. “It’s always warm in there and I was feeling very tired from my long walk yesterday, because Bertha asked me to walk all that way to Westaways. I couldn’t sleep at all last night and that is why I didn’t come to church this morning.”

  “Well never mind.” Henrietta took Lily’s hand and, ever the pragmatist, said, “Eat your cake and drink your tea then perhaps you could come and join us. Lawrence has brought us all a little gift and I’m sure you will be delighted with yours. He has gone to visit his mother now and of course Bertha has accompanied him. Naturally she wants to show off the ring he bought her and I think there will probably be a gathering at the Patterson’s. I think we should help Ellen in the kitchen later, it is only fair that we share the burden on the seventh day.”

  “And where’s Father?” Lily asked, getting up to do Henrietta’s bidding, as she agreed it was only fair to lighten Ellen’s load and, secretly, she was wondering what her gift could be. “I asked him earlier to consider my request to visit Aunt Patricia. I think the change would do me good.”

  “He is a busy man at the moment, Lily, with winter being upon us and people stocking up for
the Christmas season. I personally have been rushed off my feet in the office and some of the coal men are being paid double time.”

  “I can’t see why father has to accompany us wherever we go, Henrietta. Do you remember when we went to Llandudno and he insisted that he drove us there in the carriage? What a squash! Mother said she would have preferred taking the train there.”

  “It’s his way, Lily. It is difficult for a man to have so many daughters and see that each one is well chaperoned. He loves us all dearly and still worries about the daughters that have married and moved away. Why, when Sister Eliza went to visit her mother-in-law in Chester whilst Robert was sailing to New York, he insisted on driving her there. But of course, that was in the summer when demand for coal is at its lowest.”

  “I am quite able to catch a ferryboat across the Mersey, walk to the railway station and take a train to Southport, Henrietta. Aunt Patricia would send her driver to pick me up at the station when I got there.”

  “Be patient, Lily. If it’s God’s will for you to stay at Montgomery Hall, so it will be. Now, let me see a smile on your face and we’ll go downstairs to see what needs doing. Mabel, poor girl, is in particular need of cheering up; she looks as if she has lost a sixpence and found a penny instead.”

  Chapter Four

  It was still dark that morning when Charlie awoke to the sounds of his mother moving around downstairs. He peered at his fob-watch by the light of the gas lampost directly outside the bedroom window. It was half past seven. Another half an hour in bed before he had to be up and get ready to attend the meeting at the Weslyan Church on Maybank Road.

  It wasn’t that he was particularly religious, but he admired the brothers John and Charles Wesley. John had travelled the length and breadth of the country, preaching his brand of evangelism, which was a lot punchier than the insipid sermons of the Anglican Church. Charlie liked to hear a good Bible story, delivered with admonishment towards the members of the congregation. Generally a good thumping on the pulpit accompanied the minister’s words, emphasising his point and making Charlie’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. It appeared the list of sins were endless and one you didn’t even know about could be committed, unless you went to be advised of them at the chapel each Sunday.