The River Maid

by Dilly Court

  ‘There’s no need for that, sir.’ Gilfoyle reached for a brass bell and rang it. ‘I’ll tell my clerk to advance you enough to get by on, Miss Chapman. Will fifty do?’

  ‘Fifty shillings will be a great help, sir,’ Essie said, stifling a sigh of relief.

  ‘Fifty pounds, Miss Chapman. You will have expenses now that you’re moving up in society.’

  Essie stared at him in amazement. Fifty pounds was a fortune – she had never had that much money in her whole life. ‘I wasn’t planning to live like a lord, Mr Gilfoyle.’

  He laughed. ‘You’ll discover that the gentry have a different attitude to money from the rest of us mortals, Miss Chapman. But, in any event, you will need cash for incidentals; gloves, fans, ribbons and furbelows, items that ladies seem unable to live without.’

  ‘What’s a furbelow?’ Sadie whispered. ‘Can you eat it? Because I’m starving and it’s a long time since breakfast.’

  Essie was about to answer when the door opened and Gilfoyle’s clerk sidled into the room. ‘You rang, sir?’

  ‘Miss Chapman is considering the property in Curzon Street, Phipps. Send a messenger on ahead to warn the servants of their arrival, and give her fifty pounds from the safe.’ Gilfoyle glanced out of the window. ‘And tell the boy to find a cab. It looks like rain.’

  They arrived in Curzon Street in the middle of a thunderstorm. The sky was heavy with rainclouds and the air was sultry and sulphurous. The cab had pulled up at the kerb outside a five-storey terraced house. With an imposing columned portico and wrought-iron balconies it looked so grand that Essie wondered if they had come to the wrong address. George opened the door and stepped onto the pavement, holding out his hand to help Essie alight. Sadie leaped to the ground unaided.

  ‘There must be some mistake,’ Essie said anxiously. ‘This is as grand as Lady Alice’s house.’

  ‘That’ll be a shilling, guv.’ The cabby leaned down from his perch, holding out his hand.

  ‘Are you sure this is the right place?’ Essie counted out the pennies. ‘I think there must be a mistake.’

  The cabby snatched the money and pocketed it. ‘No mistake, lady. This is Curzon Street. Servants’ entrance down the steps.’ He flicked the whip and the horse ambled off in the direction of Park Lane.

  Essie stared at the elegant façade and her heart sank. ‘Maybe we’re to rent rooms here, George. This looks far too big and grand for us.’

  George marched up to the front door and rapped on the brass knocker. ‘There’s only one way to find out, girl. If you’re going to be a lady, you’d better start acting like one.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come on, you’re my brave little sister. I remember when you was faced by a big black rat in the back yard, and you only five years old. You picked up a broom and chased it off.’

  Even as he spoke the door opened and they were faced by a stern-looking butler, dressed in black. The memory of the rat was fresh in her mind and Essie braced her shoulders. ‘We’ve come to view the property. Mr Gilfoyle sent word.’

  The butler’s stony expression relaxed a little. ‘We were expecting you, Miss Chapman. Please come in.’ He stepped aside and ushered them inside.

  Essie’s first reaction was one of awe, quickly followed by dismay. At the far end of the wide, marble-tiled entrance hall an elegant staircase swept up to the first floor. This was an imposing mansion, far too large for three people, and her practical mind warned her that the running costs would be exorbitant. ‘Is the whole house for rent?’ she asked tentatively. ‘Or are we to have just a few rooms?’

  The butler’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. ‘The whole house, of course, ma’am.’

  Essie came to a halt. ‘What’s your name, sir?’

  ‘It’s Parkinson, miss.’

  ‘Well, Parkinson, I think there’s been a mistake. I think we had better leave now.’

  ‘You don’t approve of the accommodation, miss?’ Parkinson’s mouth drooped at the corners and for a terrible moment Essie thought he was going to cry.

  ‘No, no. I mean, yes, I do. It’s beautiful, but it’s very grand and extremely large. There’s only me and my brother and Sadie. We’ll rattle round like peas on a drum.’

  Parkinson coughed into his hand, or maybe he was trying not to laugh, Essie was not sure, but he seemed to relax. ‘Allow me to show you around, Miss Chapman. It’s true that there are many rooms, but not all are in use, and the servants are afraid they might lose their positions if a new tenant isn’t found soon. I believe there was talk of selling up.’

  George stepped forward. ‘Well, we can’t have that, can we, Essie? Lead on, Parkinson. We’ll certainly take a look.’

  Sadie clutched Essie’s hand and they followed Parkinson into the reception rooms on the ground floor. The morning parlour overlooked Curzon Street, and Parkinson described it as being small and on the poky side, although it seemed very spacious to Essie. He was more generous about the dining room, which to Essie looked like a banqueting hall, and he waxed lyrical about the billiard room and the study. The drawing room was on the first floor and was sufficiently large to merit favourable comments, and the library was situated across the landing. There were two bedrooms on that floor and four good-sized bedchambers on the second and third floors, with a nursery suite tucked away at the back of the house. The servants’ quarters were situated on the top floor, but Parkinson did not offer to take them up the narrow flight of stairs, and Essie did not like to ask. She would have liked to inspect the rooms, just as she would have been interested in seeing the kitchen and servants’ hall below stairs, but she had learned enough at Starcross Abbey to know that the lady of the house rarely bothered herself with such details.

  Parkinson took them back to the morning parlour where a tray of coffee and small cakes had materialised, as if by magic. ‘I thought you might like some refreshment,’ he said stiffly.

  ‘Thank you, Parkinson,’ Essie said, taking a seat nearest to the silver coffeepot. ‘This is most welcome.’

  Sadie slumped down on a chair and her hand shot out to snatch a cake. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said defiantly, ‘but I’m really hungry.’

  George perched somewhat awkwardly on the edge of the dainty sofa. ‘Nice house you’ve got here, Parkinson.’

  Parkinson stared straight ahead. ‘Do I take it that you might consider taking up the lease, sir?’

  ‘That’s up to my sister,’ George said, reaching for a cake and popping it into his mouth.

  ‘It is a very nice house, but it’s much too large for us.’ Essie handed a cup of coffee to her brother, giving him a warning look. George seemed to be carried away by his surroundings, but, in her opinion, this mansion was not for the likes of them.

  Parkinson backed towards the door. ‘I’ll leave you to discuss the matter, miss. Ring the bell if you require anything more.’

  Essie waited until the door closed on him. ‘What do you really think, George? It is splendid, but the rent is likely to be more than we can afford, and I hate to think how much it would cost to run such an establishment. We ought to look for something smaller and a bit more homely.’

  George sipped his coffee. ‘It seems to me that you’ll be a wealthy woman when the nugget is sold. Why not live up to it? Who knows, you might snare a rich husband and then you’d be set up for life.’

  ‘George Chapman! What a thing to say.’ Essie gazed at him in a mixture of amusement and dismay. ‘I’m not interested in marriage.’

  He shrugged. ‘I thought that was all females talked about. What else would you do?’

  Sadie stuffed another cake into her mouth. ‘I don’t want to get married.’

  ‘Neither do I,’ Essie said firmly. ‘At least, not yet. I want to do something good with the money. Maybe I could help the poor, or cripples like Beasley.’

  ‘Lord help us.’ George shook his head. ‘Don’t tell me you’re going to be a missionary.’

  ‘There’s no fear of that,’ Essie said, chuckling. ‘I intend to enjoy life,
but I won’t forget where the opportunity came from and I will try to do something to help others.’

  ‘Pass me another cake, Sadie.’ George placed his cup and saucer back on the tray. ‘Is there any more coffee in the pot, Essie?’

  She refilled his cup. ‘What do you think, George? Should I take this house? Or should I ask Mr Gilfoyle to find us something more modest?’

  ‘I say take it, Essie. Your friend Lady Alice lives nearby. If she decides to introduce you to her circle you’ll need to live as they do.’

  ‘But that’s not what I want,’ Essie protested. ‘I don’t wish to live in a social whirl. I met some of her friends in Devonshire, and I wasn’t impressed. I thought they were smug and shallow.’

  ‘But you like Raven and Freddie.’ Sadie licked the sugar crystals off her fingers, one at a time. ‘We all got on well in Ballarat.’

  ‘That was different,’ Essie said quickly. ‘We were thrown together in difficult circumstances, and we had to survive. Besides which, I doubt if I’ll ever see Raven or Freddie again.’

  George and Sadie exchanged knowing glances.

  ‘Why are you looking like that?’ Essie asked crossly. ‘What have I said?’

  ‘You’ve made your feelings clear, love.’ George took her hand and squeezed it. ‘You’re involved with that family and I don’t see that coming to an end. Take the house. You deserve to have a good life after what Pa put you through. Live like a lady and enjoy yourself for a change.’

  ‘I like it here,’ Sadie said, swallowing a mouthful of cake. ‘It’s nicer than Limehouse and it smells better.’

  Essie chuckled. ‘That’s true, but I need to speak to Mr Gilfoyle before I make a decision. But what about you, George? You said something about starting a business. If it’s to do with the river perhaps we ought to think again, and look for something closer.’

  ‘The future is steam, Essie. Sail is all very well, and still has a place, but steam is king. I’m having talks with a chap who owns a vessel and is looking for a partner.’

  ‘Does that mean you’d go back to sea?’ Essie asked anxiously.

  ‘Not necessarily. I’d like to have a spell ashore.’

  ‘Who is this person?’ Essie asked suspiciously. ‘And how did you meet him?’

  ‘His name is Jack Manning and he’s interested in the purchase of a second screw steamer so that he can expand his business. He’s already made a success with one ship and he’s a go-ahead sort of fellow.’

  ‘But he wants your money,’ Essie said flatly. ‘Are you sure he’s reliable?’

  ‘You are a suspicious girl, Essie. But don’t worry, Jack’s family have money. His father started the business years ago and when he died he left everything to his only son. Jack did a spell at sea when he was younger and he’s well respected.’

  ‘And have you enough money to invest?’

  George nodded, grinning. ‘I’m not asking for a loan, little sister. I’ve saved enough to finance this venture. I was going to meet Jack when I saw that oaf manhandling you.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Essie said sincerely. ‘Does that mean you’ve missed the opportunity?’

  ‘I caught up with him in the Bunch of Grapes after I left you, last evening. He’s as keen as I am to conclude our business, and I’m meeting him at six o’clock to finalise the deal.’

  ‘So you’ve made up your mind.’ Essie eyed him thoughtfully. ‘Do you think I ought to take this house?’

  ‘What would Lady Alice say?’ George said seriously. ‘You seem to think a lot of her, Essie.’

  Sadie jumped to her feet. ‘I know she’d agree. Lady Alice made us take lessons in deportment and manners and all sorts of stuff like that. And,’ she added slyly, ‘won’t it be a surprise for Raven when he comes home a free man?’

  They moved into the house in Curzon Street next day. Essie had toyed with the idea of paying a final call on her father, but she had a feeling that his new wife would make a nuisance of herself if she discovered that her stepdaughter had come into money. At least she had found George, and, although he had declined financial help, she was determined to assist him in any way she could. They were a family at last and she could not wait to introduce her tall, good-looking brother to Alice, who had not yet returned from Devonshire. What George lacked in town polish he made up for with natural charm and personality. She wished that she could introduce him to Raven and Freddie, and, despite her good fortune, she sometimes found herself wishing that she was back in Ballarat where life was simple and basic. She hoped that Leah’s health had improved, and that her sons were looking after her.

  After the first couple of weeks, during which time Essie had been kept busy settling into her new home and getting to know the servants, she woke up one morning wondering how she was going to fill the day. The housemaid had lit the fire and had brought her a cup of hot chocolate, returning minutes later to fill the china jug on the washstand with warm water. This left Essie with nothing to do other than recline on a mountain of pillows and sip her drink. She sighed, watching the flames lick around the glossy black coals in the grate. The chocolate was sweet and rich, and when she went downstairs to the dining room she knew there would be a mouth-watering selection of food in the silver salvers. It was all so different from her life in Limehouse, when she would be lucky to have a slice of bread and dripping for breakfast, and more often than not she had gone to work hungry. She smiled as she recalled the food they had cooked over the campfire in Ballarat. Lumpy porridge had seemed like a luxury and she had been grateful for the damper cooked on the embers, even if it was burned and chewy.

  Even so, the morning stretched out before her. There would be the inevitable meeting with Mrs Jackson, the housekeeper: a decent enough woman, if a little starchy. Essie would discuss the menu for the day and that would be an end to their conversation. After that, time was her own to fill as she pleased, unless she had a fitting with her dressmaker. Essie was in desperate need of a complete new wardrobe, as was Sadie. Gilfoyle, with surprising knowledge of such matters, had recommended a young widow who lived in lodgings not too far away, and Essie had found her to be an excellent choice. However, these distractions took up very little time and what to do with such leisure was her main problem. Essie replaced her empty cup on the table at her bedside, stretched and yawned as she considered her options. Boredom was her enemy and the luxurious house was beginning to feel like a prison.

  George had come to an agreement with Jack Manning, and he left for Wapping early each morning, returning late in the evening. Sometimes he arrived in time to dine with her and Sadie, but more often than not they had retired to bed before he came home. But George appeared to be happy and that was all that mattered to Essie. He had found something at last that suited his nature and temperament and he was exercising his abilities to the full. She could not but he glad for him: he had found his calling in life, she had yet to find hers, and it was no good moping in bed.

  Today, she decided, would be different. She had a fluttery feeling in her stomach, as though something exciting was in the offing, and she leaped out of bed, washed, dressed and went downstairs to the dining room.

  George was seated at the table finishing off a plate of bacon and devilled kidneys. He half rose from his chair but Essie shook her head, smiling. ‘Don’t get up, George.’

  He sat down again. ‘You’re up early. I wasn’t expecting company.’

  ‘I always have breakfast at this time every day, but you’re such an early bird these days. I hardly ever have time to speak to you.’

  ‘I’ve a late start this morning. Manning has found a ship that he’s interested in and I’m going to take a look at it.’

  ‘How exciting. I wish I could see it.’ Essie went to the sideboard and helped herself to buttered eggs and a rasher of bacon. She smiled and nodded to the parlour maid. ‘I’d like a fresh pot of coffee, please, Biddy.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’

  ‘I hope your cold is better today,’ Essie added, smiling. />
  Biddy picked up the coffee pot and sketched a curtsey. ‘Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.’ She hurried from the room.

  ‘Should you be so familiar with the girl?’ George asked as Essie sat down beside him.

  ‘She’s a person, just like us,’ Essie said calmly. ‘And she looked terrible yesterday.’

  ‘Even so, I’ve seen the expression on Parkinson’s face when you chat to the servants. I don’t think it’s the right way to behave.’

  ‘This is my house – I mean, it’s our home, George. I’ll treat the servants as I see fit. Now tell me about this new ship.’

  George eyed her speculatively. ‘You’re bored, aren’t you, Essie? And don’t deny it, because it’s obvious. You weren’t brought up to be a lady of leisure, so why don’t you come down to the docks with me today? I’ll introduce you to Manning and maybe you could look over the ship with us. After all, you’ve been round the world in a steamship, so you know what you’re talking about.’

  Essie paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. ‘That would be so exciting. I never thought I’d feel this way, but I miss the river and life on the water.’

  ‘You’re not sorry you struck it rich, are you, Essie?’

  She glanced at the polished mahogany table and the silver place settings; the fine bone china and the silver epergne laden with fruit and flowers. ‘Sometimes I feel that I don’t deserve all this.’

  ‘I think you need a day out, and hopefully your friend Lady Alice will return to London soon. I know you’ve missed her company.’

  Essie nodded. ‘I have. I know I’ve got Sadie and she’s a dear, but it’s not the same as having a friend closer to my age.’

  ‘Would Sadie like to come with us?’

  ‘I’m sure she would. I’ll send Biddy to wake her up and tell her to hurry or we’ll go without her. It will be a lovely day out.’

  They arrived at the wharf in time for George to open up the office. Essie and Sadie inspected the premises, although that did not take long as there were only two rooms. The front office was furnished simply, with a desk and two chairs, and the general purpose room at the back had a small fireplace with a blackened kettle resting on a trivet, as if waiting for someone to light the fire. There was a wooden table littered with dirty cups and plates, old newspapers and empty beer bottles. The walls were covered in tide tables, charts and official documents relating to working on the river.