by Dilly Court
Sly met them in the hall, his sleeves rolled up and a scowl on his face. ‘What’s going on?’
‘You keep out of this,’ Billy roared. ‘Now, Rose, are you going to tell me what this is all about?’
Shaking off his hand, Rosetta backed away from him. ‘I’ve left you, Billy. Can’t you get that into your thick head?’
‘Why, Rose?’ His angry expression fading, Billy held his hands out to her. ‘I done everything I could for you. I’ve tried to make you happy.’
‘Take her home and give her a good hiding,’ Sly said, taking a packet of Woods from his pocket. ‘We ain’t running a charity institution. She can’t stay here.’
Rosetta turned on him. ‘Aunt Lottie says I can stay. I’ve got money and a job. I ain’t asking for charity.’
Appearing at the top of the stairs, looking like a spectre in her white nightgown with her hair flying about her head in a nimbus cloud, Lottie clutched the banisters. ‘Don’t be a fool, Sly. She’s working for Jonas.’
‘What?’ Billy’s voice echoed off the high ceiling. ‘You never. Tell me you didn’t go crawling to that crooked bastard.’
‘I never crawled to no one in me life,’ Rosetta said, drawing herself up to her full height. ‘You watch your tongue, Billy Noakes. I got me a proper job, entertaining in Mr Crowe’s gambling club, which is all legal and above board now.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ Billy said, heading for the door. ‘I’ll have it out with Crowe and put a stop to that lark straight away.’
Running after him, Rosetta caught him by the sleeve. ‘If you do that, Billy, we’re finished for ever.’
Breathing heavily, his faced flushed beneath the white film of flour, Billy’s shoulders sagged as if she had punched him in the stomach. ‘Have it your own way for now, but this ain’t the end of it, Rose.’ He stamped out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
The premises had changed beyond recognition. Rosetta had only been in the gaming room once, when Jonas had invited everyone back after Poppa’s funeral, but now it looked quite different. Huge mahogany chiffoniers, set with crystal decanters on silver trays, had replaced the taproom bar. Card tables were set about the room surrounded by button-back, leather chairs. The garish red and gold walls had been stripped and hung with more subtle art nouveau wallpaper and deep-pile carpet concealed the floorboards. The downstairs room, that had been the meeting place for punters and tarts, was now a smart salon where the wives of respectable merchants, lawyers and bankers could meet, have supper and be entertained. Far from entertaining the gentlemen upstairs, Rosetta found herself in the salon with the ladies, competing with the rising volume of female voices, so that more often than not her singing went completely unheard. Risqué music hall songs were out and her new audience demanded sentimental ballads. Accompanied by a pianist and a fiddler, Rosetta sang until the fog of cigarette smoke made her cough and her throat went dry. This was not how she had imagined it to be and, worst of all, she saw very little of Jonas. Even though she was working until the early hours of the morning, he refused to allow her to sleep in Ruby’s old room. Rosetta slept alone in one of Lottie’s better rooms, for which she paid a grossly inflated rent. When she awakened in the middle of the day she had only to go next door, but no matter what time she arrived Jonas always seemed to be out. When questioned, Tucker was always vague, saying that Mr Jonas had business in the City. Whatever the business matters were, it seemed that they were extremely profitable. The house reverberated to the sound of workmen, chipping, sawing, plastering and painting. The smell of turpentine and gloss paint cancelled out the odours of stale tobacco and alcohol. The below stairs servants were no longer slatternly in their dress and casual in their manner. They wore neat uniforms and their faces and fingernails were clean, inspected daily by a new housekeeper who disciplined and drilled them with the vigour of a sergeant major.
Rosetta came and went much as she pleased and Jonas paid her well, but none of this made up for the fact that he was completely indifferent to her. He was always polite and treated her like a real lady but that was not at all what she wanted. She wanted him to notice her, to look at her with that sparkle of desire that came into most men’s eyes when they met her. She wanted Jonas to listen to her, to value her opinion and to realise how much she could help him improve his business. She had achieved her independence but, if she couldn’t make Jonas love her as she loved him, then she had nothing.
Lottie was unsympathetic, more interested in the gin bottle than in Rosetta’s heartache. She told Rosetta bluntly that she had been a fool to fall in love with Jonas. If you wanted to stay ahead of the game then you didn’t let your emotions become involved. You made men think they were in love with you, but you kept your heart locked in a hard little shell so that when the affair ended you did not get hurt. If she couldn’t do that then she would be better off at home, working alongside Billy in the bakery.
Sly tolerated her presence but never failed to make sarcastic comments on her failure to restore his business link with Jonas. Depressed, and lonely for the first time in her life, Rosetta lavished money on clothes and trinkets but, after a while, even the thrill of spending began to pall. After his initial visit, Billy had not come near her again, and Rosetta dared not go home, either to the bakery or Tobacco Court. She could not face the anger and disappointment that she knew she must expect from Mum and Granny. Martha wouldn’t know her and Billy probably hated her, and with good reason. If only Ruby was here, she thought miserably. Why had Ruby had to go off to that stupid war in Africa? Ruby was the one and only person who would understand. Everything else paled into nothing compared to the separation from her sister.
Closing her umbrella, Rosetta stepped inside the entrance hall almost tripping over a plank and a large pot of paint. Apologising profusely, a workman scooped up the offending items and scuttled off towards the back of the house, doffing his cap to Jonas who had just come from the direction of his office. As usual, the mere sight of him sent Rosetta’s pulses racing; she thought he was going to walk past her, but he stopped, looking thoughtfully at a rolled copy of The Times in his hand.
‘This war with the Boers has gone on far longer than anyone thought it would. You must be worried about your sister.’
‘Good morning, Jonas.’
‘You’re soaking wet. You won’t be able to sing if you catch cold.’
‘I wouldn’t be soaked to the skin if you let me have Ruby’s old room.’
Jonas hesitated, eyebrows raised. ‘Aren’t you comfortable living with Lottie?’
‘I can’t see why you won’t let me use me sister’s room. Ruby wouldn’t mind.’
‘The papers are full of this business at Mafeking coming so soon after Ladysmith. Have you heard anything from Ruby?’
Something inside Rosetta’s head seemed to snap like overstretched elastic. ‘Why are you so interested in what Ruby is doing? What is she to you?’
‘That’s none of your business.’
Jonas made to leave but Rosetta grabbed him by the coat sleeve. ‘It is my business. You are my business.’
Turning on her, Jonas stared into her eyes, his expression guarded. ‘You just work for me, Rosetta. I pay your wages, don’t forget that.’
‘I work for you because I love you,’ Rosetta cried, seizing his hand and pressing it to her cheek. ‘Can’t you understand that, Jonas? I love you.’
‘You don’t love me,’ Jonas said, snatching his hand free. ‘You don’t even know me.’
‘I do. I do know you. You’re strong and you’re powerful. People look up to you. You need a woman like me to stand by your side and …’
‘No!’ Gripping Rosetta by the shoulders Jonas shook her. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. Go back to your husband and child, Rosetta. Go back to the family who love you.’
‘But I love you.’
‘Then I’m sorry for you.’ Jonas walked towards the door but Rosetta ran after him, barring his way.
‘I’ve never begged anyone for nothing, not in me whole life, but I’m begging you to give me a chance. I could be really good to you. You might even grow to love me, Jonas.’
‘Not in a million years, my dear. My worthless black heart belongs to someone else.’
‘Who?’ Rosetta heard her voice rise to a scream. ‘I’ll scratch her eyes out.’
‘It would be a wasted effort; the lady is pledged to another man.’
Feeling as though the air was being sucked out of her lungs, Rosetta clasped her hand to her chest. ‘You don’t mean … You can’t mean …’
‘I’m sorry, Rosetta, but I love your sister and have done right from the beginning. Impossible though it may be, I love Ruby.’ Lifting Rosetta bodily out of the way, Jonas slammed out of the house.
Aware that the workmen were hanging off their ladders enjoying the spectacle, Rosetta fumbled blindly with the latch, opened the door and ran down the steps just in time to see Jonas hail a passing cab.
‘Jonas, come back. Come back.’ With tears streaming down her cheeks, Rosetta ran alongside the cab until it picked up enough speed to leave her standing on the pavement, panting and sobbing. Aware of the curious looks from passers-by, Rosetta gulped and sniffed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. The sun had chased the rain clouds away and the pavements sparkled, wet and clean after the heavy shower. There was the hint of spring in the air but to Rosetta it was icy midwinter. Shivering, and with her teeth chattering, she wrapped her arms around her body. Jonas loves Ruby, she thought, catching her breath on a sob. He loves Ruby and not me. Jonas loves Ruby and I hate her. No, I don’t, Rosetta thought miserably; I hate myself for being such an idiot. I should have realised when Jonas came looking for her that it was Ruby he wanted all along. I’ve been a blind, stupid fool, yearning after a man who never gave me a second look, and turning my back on the one who truly loved me. Billy must hate me now, but he can’t hate me more than I hate myself.
Standing in the middle of the pavement, hugging herself and crying, Rosetta felt as if the whole world was collapsing around her. What would she do now? Where would she go? Her golden dream of love and life with Jonas had burst like a soap bubble, leaving her with nothing except pain and humiliation. Hunching her shoulders, she put her head down and began the long walk home to Tobacco Court and Mum.
‘Rose!’ Sarah dropped the basket of washing that she was carrying and rushed over to Rosetta, flinging her arms around her. ‘Oh, Rose, thank God you’ve come home.’
Rosetta had expected a cool reception, but there was something in her mother’s expression that terrified her. Cold fingers of fear ran up and down her spine.
‘What’s happened, Mum?’
‘Not that you’d care,’ snorted Granny.
‘Shut up, Ma,’ Sarah said, tears spurting from her red-rimmed eyes. ‘This ain’t no time for family feuds.’
‘You’re frightening me,’ Rosetta cried, grasping Sarah’s work-worn hands.
‘Joe’s dead.’ Granny Mole spat the words out like pips stuck between her teeth. ‘Killed defending Ladysmith, and your sister’s gone down with the typhoid.’
Rosetta’s knees gave way beneath her and she sank down onto the nearest chair. ‘No! I don’t believe it. There’s got to be some mistake.’
Curling her fingers round Rosetta’s cold hands, Sarah sat on the seat next to her. ‘He died a hero, Rose. My bad boy ended up a hero. Wouldn’t he have had a laugh about that?’ Sarah’s voice broke on a sob.
Slipping her arms round her mother’s shaking shoulders, Rosetta held her close. ‘Why didn’t anyone tell me? I would have come at once.’
‘Because you’re a selfish little cow,’ Granny said, heaving herself up from her chair by the fire. ‘You left your husband and baby and went off to live with that old soak Lottie. You don’t have no thought for no one until you’re in trouble yourself.’
‘That’s not fair, Ma,’ Sarah said, wiping her eyes on her hankie. ‘Rosetta’s here now, ain’t she?’
‘Probably got herself into trouble again,’ Granny muttered, heading for the stairs. ‘I’m going for me nap.’ Her heavy tread made the stairs creak and groan in protest as she hauled herself up to her room, slamming the door behind her.
‘Tell me it ain’t true about Ruby and Joe. There must have been a mix-up somewhere along the line.’ Rosetta looked to her mother, desperate for a denial.
Sarah shook her head with fresh tears spurting from her eyes. ‘It’s true. Ruby was nursing the troops; she was with Joe at the end. She wrote me a letter saying that he didn’t know nothing about it and went real peaceful. Then she come down with typhoid.’
‘But how do you know? It could be a terrible mistake.’
Sarah pulled a crumpled telegram from her apron pocket, handing it to Rosetta. ‘It’s from that doctor friend of hers. He says she’s being sent home on a hospital ship.’
‘This is dated weeks ago. Why didn’t you let me know? Why didn’t I know anyway?’ Rosetta buried her face in her hands. ‘Me and Ruby used to be so close. I should have known there was something wrong.’
Sarah laid her hand on Rosetta’s shoulder. ‘You ain’t kids now, Rose. You got your own life to lead and so has Ruby.’
Brushing the tears from her eyes, Rosetta lifted her head. ‘This says the ship will be arriving soon. I’ll make it up to her, Mum. I’ve been wrong about so many things and I’ve been hateful to everyone who loves me, but I’m going to change. I swear on Poppa’s grave that I’m going to be a better person. I’ll see that Ruby gets the best treatment that money can buy.’
‘Oh, Rosetta, my little Rose, you always had big ideas. We’ll manage somehow, but we just ain’t got the money for doctors and fancy convalescent homes.’
‘We haven’t, but I know someone who has. Ruby deserves the best and by God, I’m going to see that she gets it.’
Chapter Nineteen
The journey home had seemed to go on for ever, the days drifting endlessly through a fogbank of laudanum-induced sleep. Ruby knew that she had been very ill and was lucky to have survived but, as her mind became clearer and memory returned, so did the pain and grief of losing Joe and then Pamela. In the first days of her illness she had only been dimly aware of her surroundings. Adam had been at her bedside, holding her hand, offering words of comfort and encouragement that sometimes she understood but, when the fever was at its peak, it was just the sound of his voice that she had heard. It was only when she had begun to recover that Ruby realised she had lost three weeks of her life. By that time they were at sea and she was lying in a bunk on a hospital ship, out of danger but too ill to do anything but sleep the days away.
She was still weak and listless and even the news that they were nearing England had done little to raise her spirits. She had left Adam behind in Africa, coping alone with his grief, and she was powerless to help him through his lonely ordeal. It would be winter now, adding to the dangers and discomforts of life on the front line. On deck, reclining on a steamer chair and muffled in blankets, Ruby watched the grey-green waters of the English Channel roll and break against the side of the ship, sending plumes of spray and spume onto the decking. Long before they reached the quiet waters of the Thames estuary, she had made up her mind to return to Africa as soon as she had regained her strength.
They docked in London early in the morning. Ruby was not expecting anyone to meet her; she had vaguely thought she would take a cab home but it was difficult to think clearly. She had managed to dress herself but it had taken a long time, with short rests in between struggling with buttons and laces. She had lost so much weight that her clothes hung off her and when she was done she had to lie down on her bunk as the cabin spun round her in dizzying circles. Of the three other nurses who had shared the cabin with her during the voyage, two had gone up on deck to watch the ship dock and the other girl was too sick to leave her bunk. It was not much of a surprise when two orderlies entered the cabin carrying a stretcher. When she realised that they meant to li
ft her onto it, Ruby protested that she was fit enough to walk off the ship. The orderlies disagreed and she had to suffer the indignity of being stretchered ashore.
‘There she is. Ruby, Ruby, over here.’
Lifting her head, Ruby could see Rosetta waving frantically from the quayside. Dazzled by the bright sunlight, she shaded her eyes with her hand. For a moment she thought she was hallucinating and the fever had returned. Smartly dressed and smiling, Rosetta and Jonas stood in front of his motor car, looking for all the world like a prosperous City merchant and his wife. Too weak to hold her head up, Ruby lay back on the stretcher. So Rosetta had got her wish and captivated Jonas with her charming ways. She ought not to have been surprised, but the sight of them together was more of a shock than she could ever have anticipated.
‘Ruby, how thin you are,’ Rosetta said, a worried frown puckering her smooth brow. ‘You mustn’t worry about a thing, dear. We’re going to look after you, aren’t we, Jonas?’
The orderlies set the stretcher down on the ground and Jonas thanked them, pressing what had to be a generous tip into their palms, judging by the way they grinned and touched their caps.
‘We’ve come to take you home, Ruby,’ Jonas said, bending over her.
To protest meant using her last scrap of energy; Ruby hooked her arm around his broad shoulders as he lifted her into the passenger seat of his motor car.
Ruby had expected to be taken home to Tobacco Court but she soon realised that they were heading towards Shoreditch. ‘Jonas, where are you taking me?’
‘Home, my dear,’ Jonas said, turning his head and smiling. ‘Rosetta and I have it all worked out between us. We’ll have you fit and well again in no time.’
‘Yes, and Mum and Granny will visit tomorrow, after you’ve had time to rest,’ Rosetta said, leaning over the front seat and almost smothering Ruby in a cloud of expensive perfume. ‘Jonas and me have worked so hard getting your room ready. Just wait until you see it.’