by Dilly Court
‘Don’t take that tone with me, Kate.’ Josie tossed her head. ‘At least she’s got a roof over her head. It’s just that I’m not entirely sure which one it is.’ She marched up to the door of number ten and rapped on the knocker.
Kate glanced over her shoulder. She was certain that she saw dark figures skulking in the shadows. She crossed her fingers, hoping that Josie had picked the right house. When no one answered, Josie knocked again and eventually the door opened a crack.
‘Who’s there?’ The voice quavered nervously and an eye peered out at them.
‘Nanny Barnes.’ Josie’s voice shook with relief. ‘Thank goodness, it is you.’
The door opened wide. ‘Miss Josephine?’
Josie flung her arms around the tiny woman, lifting her off her feet. ‘It is I, Nanny. I’m so glad to see you.’
‘Put me down, child. Come in and shut the door.’ Nanny Barnes squinted short-sightedly at Kate. ‘And bring your friend. I’m afraid I haven’t any seed cake or muffins for tea. The delivery from Fortnum’s is late once again, but you’re welcome anyway.’
Kate followed them into the small space that served as both kitchen and living room. In the dim light of a single candle it was patently obvious that Josie’s old nanny was not living in the height of luxury. A fire had been lit in the grate but the tiny nuggets of coal glowed fitfully amongst a pile of damp twigs spitting sap and creating more smoke than heat. The packed earth floor was covered in straw and the air felt damp, a feature made worse by the kettle hanging on a hook over the fire sending puffs of steam into the room.
‘Sit down, both of you.’ Nanny Barnes pointed to two wooden chairs tucked beneath a deal table. ‘I was just going to make a pot of tea.’ She frowned at Josie. ‘You look perished, my dear. Take off those damp things before you catch your death of cold. You too, young lady.’ She took in Kate’s appearance with a nod of her head. ‘You must be Miss Josephine’s maid. Well, we don’t stand on ceremony in my house. You’re welcome to stay to tea.’ She hobbled over to the fireplace and lifted the kettle with both hands.
Noting Nanny Barnes’ gnarled fingers, twisted by rheumatism into grotesque shapes, Kate took a step forward intending to help her but Josie frowned and shook her head. ‘Thank you, Nanny. A cup of tea will be lovely.’ She took off her bonnet and mantle and hung them over the back of her chair. ‘Sit down, Kate,’ she whispered. ‘She won’t thank you for interfering.’
Kate did as she was told, taking off her damp cloak and sitting down at the table which was laid with an embroidered cloth, stained by many years of spilt tea and lacy with moth holes. She glanced round at the roughly plastered walls with large bare patches revealing the bare brickwork. She could feel the cold and damp rising from the floor. No wonder the poor woman was crippled with rheumatism.
Nanny Barnes placed the teapot on the table and took two teacups from a shelf on the far side of the chimney breast. ‘I don’t often have company,’ she said, beaming. ‘Did I tell you that there isn’t any seed cake? Anyway, there’s plenty of bread and butter.’
Kate’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food. She had not eaten since breakfast that morning, but despite Nanny Barnes’ boast there seemed to be only the end of a loaf and a tiny pat of butter on the table. There was little enough for one person, let alone three. She could see that Josie was thinking along similar lines.
‘We don’t want to take your supper, Nanny,’ Josie said hastily. ‘In fact, I was going to treat you to something from the – er …’ She sent a mute appeal for help to Kate. ‘I suppose Fortnum’s is out of the question.’
Taking her cue, Kate rose to her feet. ‘I’ll go out and find a pie shop.’ Used as Josie was to relying on servants for every mouthful of food she ate, she would have no idea that there were shops selling such things as meat pies, stewed eels and pease pudding. She would never have eaten fish and chips wrapped in yesterday’s newspapers. In fact, Kate realised, Josie had not the foggiest notion how ordinary people lived. She slipped her damp cloak around her shoulders and picked up the purse. There would be enough for a meal for three. How they would manage tomorrow was another matter.
Despite Nanny Barnes’ protests that it was unfitting for a young woman to go out alone at night in this part of the East End, Kate was driven by hunger, and she slipped out of the house leaving Josie to calm Nanny’s fear. She had seen a pie and eel shop next to the Baptist chapel in Grove Street and it was not far to walk. The tasty aroma of hot meat pies kept her going and she left the shop with the comforting heat of the parcel clutched to her bosom. She had almost reached the end of Terrace Road when she was accosted by a man who leapt out of a doorway, grabbing her by the arm.
‘Hand it over, girl.’
She clutched the parcel of food even tighter. ‘Let me go.’
‘Me wife and nippers is starving. Give us it.’
Kate made a vain attempt to struggle free but the man was obviously desperate and in no mood to be gentle. He pushed her roughly to the ground and was attempting to wrest the package from her when someone grabbed him by the collar and flung him aside. Her assailant scrambled to his feet and ran off.
‘Are you all right, miss?’
Still clutching her precious parcel, Kate allowed her saviour to help her up. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’
He tipped his cap. ‘You shouldn’t be out alone, miss.’ He started to walk off towards the common but Kate hurried after him and caught him by the sleeve.
‘Thank you for what you just did.’
‘It were nothing, miss.’
‘It was very brave of you.’ Kate fumbled in her pocket for her purse. ‘I should like to thank you properly. That man would have taken everything.’
He pushed her hand away. ‘Like I said, it were nothing. Go home, miss. I don’t want your money.’
In the light of a street lamp she could see his features clearly. His dark curly hair was streaked with silver, and he had the swarthy look of a Romany. It was odd that as a child she had always been warned to avoid gypsies, but this was the man who had saved her. ‘Are you camped near here?’
He grinned. ‘Aye, miss. We’re on the far side of the common. Should you want your fortune told, you know where to come.’
‘Could you tell me your name? I’d like to know.’
‘Marko, miss.’
She held out her hand. ‘Kate. Thank you, Marko.’
He shook hands, bowed and walked off into the night. Kate hurried the last few yards to the house and let herself in.
‘You took your time,’ Josie said crossly. ‘We’ve been waiting for ages.’
‘You would have had to wait even longer for your food if it hadn’t been for a gypsy who saved me from a mugger.’
Nanny Barnes threw up her hands. ‘Oh, dearie me. I told you not to go out alone, my girl. It’s not safe with all those desperate men loitering around. I suppose you can’t blame the poor things who can’t find work and have families to feed.’
Josie took the food from Kate’s hands and peeled off the newspaper. ‘Never mind, you’re here now and I’m absolutely famished. Pass your plate, Nanny. This smells all right, but frankly I could eat a horse.’
‘You always were a greedy girl,’ Nanny Barnes said, shaking her head.
Later, when Nanny Barnes had gone upstairs to her room, Kate and Josie were left to make themselves as comfortable as possible with one blanket each and a rag rug laid out in front of the fire. They huddled together in front of the dying embers.
‘It’s awful to see her living like this,’ Josie murmured sleepily. ‘I wish Toop had told me more of her circumstances.’
Kate tugged at the thin blanket in an attempt to cover herself and keep out the draughts that whistled under the front door. ‘I doubt if you would have believed him if you had not seen it for yourself.’
‘You’re right, of course. I never gave the poor old soul a thought.’
‘Perhaps you’ll have a chance to make it up to her.’
> ‘You mean when I marry Challenor?’
‘I suppose so. But you might decide to return home. Your mother must be out of her mind with worry.’
‘She’ll recover soon enough. She’s thick as thieves with Hermione, and Joseph isn’t stupid enough to pick on Mama. He likes to keep his wife happy so that he can do what he pleases with girls from the village, or willing chambermaids. I’m just disgusted to think that he puts me in that class.’
In spite of everything this wrought a chuckle from Kate. ‘So says the girl who is sleeping on the floor in a hovel. This is what they call finding out the hard way how the other half live, Josie. I hope you remember it when your fortunes are restored.’
‘And they will be.’ Josie snapped into a sitting position. ‘How much money is there in my purse?’
‘Fifteen and sixpence three farthings. See how far that gets you.’
Josie subsided onto the rug, curling up against Kate’s back. ‘I’ll think about that in the morning, but right now I’m really sleepy …’ Her voice tailed off as she settled down with a hearty sigh.
Next morning the full extent of Nanny Barnes’ poverty became clear to both Kate and Josie. The small terrace of houses had been built at the beginning of the century to house factory workers and artisans, but it appeared that the landlord had neglected to do the necessary repairs and the row was fit only for demolition. All the occupants were forced to share a block of privies in the service lane which abutted the common, and the tiny back yards were too small to allow the tenants to grow their own vegetables. On questioning, Kate discovered that Nanny Barnes had no family to support her and that she had existed on the small pension that Sir Hector had given her, but even that had ceased since Joseph had inherited the family fortune. She was all but destitute and facing the worst horror of all – the workhouse.
This last piece of information had the power to shock Josie out of her despondent state and had galvanised her into action. She washed in ice cold water drawn from the communal pump and donned her gown, grumbling that it was creased but having to wear it anyway as Nanny did not possess a flat iron. Kate put her hair up for her and helped her into her travel-stained bonnet and mantle.
Josie stared down at damp patches on the once perfect blue velvet and frowned. ‘This won’t do at all if I’m to impress Harry. I don’t want him to think I’m desperate.’
‘You look a treat, my dear,’ Nanny Barnes said, peering at her through the thick lenses of her spectacles. ‘I never thought that my little scamp would grow up to be such a lovely young woman.’
Josie preened herself in front of the fly-blown mirror above the mantelshelf. ‘I suppose I’ll pass muster. At least, I hope so for all our sakes.’
Kate tucked her hair into a snood and put on her bonnet, which was still soggy from last night’s rain. ‘You do know where Mr Challenor lives, don’t you, Josie? Have you ever been to his London house?’
‘No, but I’m not stupid. I took care to find out everything I needed to know about him, including the town house in Finsbury Circus and his office in Wapping.’
Kate was still not convinced. ‘But supposing he’s not at home?’
‘I’ll sit on the doorstep and wait until he returns,’ Josie said firmly. ‘Don’t forget, Kate. This is just a social call. He’s not to know that we haven’t come from Bedford House, so don’t you say a word. Keep in the background and let me do all the talking. If we don’t get an invitation to Copperstone Castle my name is not Josephine Marguerite Damerell.’
‘Well, good luck, dear,’ Nanny Barnes said gently. ‘You will be coming back tonight, I hope.’
Josie gave her a hug. ‘Of course we will, Nanny. I’m going to look after you properly from now on. There’ll be no talk of the workhouse. When I am mistress of Copperstone I will make sure that you are well cared for, and that’s a promise. Come, Kate.’ She swept out of the house with Kate following in her wake.
In order to save money they walked as far as they could before hailing a passing hansom cab. Even so, the cost of travelling in relative comfort to Finsbury Circus took an alarmingly large proportion of the remaining money in Josie’s purse.
‘He’d better be at home after all this expense,’ Josie muttered as she mounted the steps of the Georgian town house. A liveried footman opened the door to them. ‘Please inform Mr Challenor that Miss Damerell wishes to see him,’ Josie said with an imperious toss of her head.
‘I’m afraid you’ve just missed him, miss. Mr Challenor left for the country an hour ago, and is not expected to return to London for some weeks.’
Josie stared at him in disbelief. ‘That can’t be true. There must be some mistake.’
Bristling with affront, the footman shook his head. ‘There is no mistake. Good day, miss.’ He closed the door firmly in her face and Josie stood for a moment before turning to Kate, pale-faced and visibly shocked. ‘What on earth will we do now?’
Chapter Fifteen
THERE WAS NO alternative other than to return to Hackney Terrace, but with dwindling resources they had to resort to public transport and a series of horse-drawn omnibus rides. Tired, hungry and emotionally drained, Kate settled Josie in a chair by the fire in Nanny Barnes’ living room.
‘This is so exciting,’ Nanny Barnes said, clapping her hands. ‘To have both of you staying here is more than I could have wished for. I do hope the order from Fortnum’s arrives in time for tea. I’m so looking forward to cucumber sandwiches and walnut cake.’
Josie frowned. ‘Nanny, you know that’s just wishful thinking, don’t you?’
‘No, dear. They will come. I wait for them every day, but sometimes I’m afraid they must deliver to the wrong house.’ Her bottom lip trembled and she sank down on the nearest chair. ‘I do so love walnut cake.’
Kate patted her on the shoulder. ‘Perhaps I’d better go out and see if I can find the delivery van, Miss Barnes. Then we can have tea by the fire.’
‘That would be nice, dear. Ring for the tweeny, Josie. We need more coal, and tell her to fetch another candle. It will be dark soon.’
Josie met Kate’s worried glance with a wry smile. ‘Yes, Nanny. I’ll do that in a minute.’
Nanny Barnes shook her finger at her. ‘What have I told you about procrastination, Josephine?’
‘It’s the thief of time, Nanny.’
‘Quite so. Now where was I?’
Kate picked up Josie’s purse. She knew to the last farthing how much was left and it would not stretch to walnut cake and cucumber sandwiches. A quick glance out of the window made her reluctant to go out again. The wind was whipping up eddies of straw, dead leaves and bits of detritus that had drifted into the gutters. Raindrops trickled down the windowpanes, leaving sooty marks like tearstains on the grimy glass. With a sigh of resignation, she slipped her cloak around her shoulders and reached for her bonnet. ‘I’ll go out and get something for supper, Josie.’
‘Yes, please do; I’m starving. And fetch a bag of coal too.’
‘Yes, miss.’ Kate pulled a face, receiving an apologetic smile from Josie.
‘It’s Miss Josephine to you, Kate,’ Nanny said severely. ‘We mustn’t forget our place, must we?’
‘No, Miss Barnes.’ Kate made her escape. Outside it was bitterly cold and the rain had turned to sleet. They were in desperate need of coal and kindling, and a foray into Nanny’s cupboard had revealed a distinct lack of candles and vestas. Quite how the old lady had managed to survive all this time on her own was beyond Kate, but now the responsibility of looking after Nanny Barnes and Josie had fallen on her shoulders. She quickened her pace. It would be dark in an hour or so and she did not want to risk another mugging. They were in enough trouble without losing the small sum of money in her purse, and with Josie’s plan of enlisting Harry’s help dashed they were in a pretty pickle, as Pa would say. A wave of homesickness washed over her as she walked along the street lined with pawnshops, pubs and bawdy houses. Slatterns loitered in doorways and their ragged,
barefoot children clung to their skirts or hung about waiting to dip into pockets of unwary passers-by. Kate was up to their tricks and she clutched the purse beneath her cloak, glaring at the urchins if they came too close. Dealing with youngsters under the age of ten was one thing, but she knew enough to avoid confrontation with the older boys and the grown men who leered at her and made suggestive remarks.
She stopped outside a pawnshop and on an impulse went inside. She came out minutes later, half a crown richer but bareheaded. The bonnet that Josie had bought her in Dorchester had seen better days but it was still finer than anything displayed in the pop-shop window. She spent the money on a few necessities, tipping the shop boy a penny for delivering the small bag of coal to the house together with bundles of kindling. The rest of her purchases she carried in a battered rush basket, found at the bottom of a pile of junk in the pop-shop for which she paid only a farthing. On the way back to the house she bought three baked potatoes and a bunch of watercress from a street vendor, which they ate for supper washed down with hot sweet tea.
Kate was still hungry when she lay down on the floor beside Josie that night. ‘What are we going to do now?’
Josie raised herself on one elbow, staring into the fire. ‘I’m not going home, that’s for certain. I suppose I could throw myself on the mercy of John Hardy, that nice vicar who took us in after the accident.’
‘You don’t mean that?’
‘Why not? He was rather taken with me, as I recall.’
‘Josie, you’re shameless.’
‘I’m desperate, Kate. I can’t go on living like this with poor old Nanny, whose mind is wandering. Another few days in this place and I might go mad myself.’
‘You’re not serious about renewing your acquaintance with the Reverend, are you?’
‘It’s the only solution that comes to mind. I can hardly turn up at Copperstone on the pretext that I was passing and decided to drop in.’
‘Why not? You were prepared to do that in London.’
‘That’s quite different. I would have been paying a social call on an equal footing if I’d been living in Bedford Square, or pretending to. I would have to receive an invitation to Copperstone, and that’s out of the question now.’ Josie threw herself down on the rag rug, groaning. ‘What a ghastly muddle. I’m afraid it’s the vicar or dying of starvation in this hovel.’