by Dilly Court
Nicholls was already at his desk and he looked up, his expression hardening when he spotted Rose. ‘You’re late again, Munday.’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Nicholls. I was unexpectedly delayed.’
‘No matter what Mr Sheldon says, I’m the head clerk, and, if you’re late again or you don’t do as I tell you, I’ll report you to Mr Radley.’
‘Yes, Mr Nicholls.’ Rose decided that arguing with Nicholls was a waste of time and she forced herself to answer meekly.
‘Get to work, Munday,’ Nicholls snapped. ‘Your days are numbered, so make the most of your five minutes of glory.’
Rose could hear the two more junior clerks sniggering, but she ignored them as she marched into Eugene’s office, resisting the temptation to slam the door. They were determined to make her life as difficult as possible, but Eugene had given her a chance to prove herself and she had no intention of letting him down. That aside, her most pressing problem was where she would sleep that night, and how she would retrieve her things from the boxroom in Black Raven Court. It was fortunate that the clothes given to her by Cecilia were still in Tavistock Square, waiting until she had found more permanent accommodation.
Rose sat down in front of the typewriter, running her fingers over the keys. The night before last she had felt proud and elated when Eugene allowed her to write her piece about the theatre, and seeing her name in print for the first time was undoubtedly a thrill, but working in a man’s world was going to be an uphill struggle. She took a sheet of paper and inserted it in the machine. There was work that Eugene had left for her and it must be done; even so, she was finding it hard to concentrate, and she was still sitting there when he breezed into the office half an hour later.
‘What’s the matter with you, Munday?’ he demanded. ‘I thought you would be beaming all over your face this morning.’
‘I’ve got a bit of a problem, Guvnor.’
Eugene made to throw his hat onto the stand, but seemed to think better of it and placed it on a chair together with his overcoat and scarf. ‘Anything I can help with?’
‘I have to find somewhere else to stay.’
‘I could have told you that living in a house of ill repute was not the best address for a budding reporter. However, joking aside, I agree with you wholeheartedly.’
‘I bumped into Regan again and he’s being difficult.’
Eugene took his seat behind his desk. ‘I imagine that’s putting it mildly. I suppose he wants you to join his happy band of workers.’
‘That’s it exactly, and I daren’t go back to collect my things in case he sees me. Besides which, I’ve nowhere to go.’
He turned his head to give her a long look. ‘Then you must stay with us in Tavistock Square, and I’ll try to find out if those men have the legal right to be in the Captain’s House.’
‘Thank you, Guvnor. But your sister might object to having me as a guest, even for a short time.’
‘Cissie? Why would she? My sister isn’t a bad sort when you get to know her, Munday. Her main problem is ennui. Cissie is an intelligent woman and she hasn’t got enough to occupy her mind. She doesn’t particularly enjoy balls and soirées, and, in my opinion, she needs a cause to fight for. You might find you have a lot in common.’
‘Maybe,’ Rose said doubtfully. ‘She’s been very kind to me, but I don’t want to foist myself on her.’
‘I don’t think Cissie will have any objections to you staying with us until you find something more suitable. You seemed to get on quite well at the theatre.’
‘She did invite me to join her when she has luncheon with Maria Barnaby. Maria is half-sister to Max Manning, my fiancé.’
‘There you are then. Maria might be able to give you some information, so stop worrying and type out that article I gave you yesterday. You’re still an office junior, Munday, so get back to work.’ Eugene tempered his words with a smile. ‘And don’t worry about your possessions. I’ll come with you when we finish work this evening. I’d enjoy sorting Regan out.’
Rose shot him a sideways glance. ‘You’d take him on?’
‘I can handle myself in a fight. You’d be surprised.’
It was dark when they arrived in Black Raven Court and Rose was nervous. It was not only feral cats that lurked in doorways and down dark alleys. There was danger in the back streets even in daytime, but when the shadows deepened after dusk it was a brave person who walked there alone. Rose had learned this much already, and she kept watch while Eugene marched up to the front door. He turned to her and beckoned.
‘It’s not locked – the girls are obviously expecting to do a good trade tonight. Come on.’
Rose hesitated on the bottom step. ‘Maybe it would be best if you keep watch outside. I’m used to creeping up the stairs.’
‘All right. Go ahead, but be quick.’
Rose entered the house on tiptoe. The nauseating smell of unwashed bodies, damp rot, cheap perfume and tobacco smoke hit her with almost physical force. The familiar sounds of laughter and creaking bed springs were punctuated by raised voices and the occasional scream. Rose broke into a run, taking the stairs two at a time, but in her haste she trod on the step that everyone tried to avoid and the loud creak brought Cora to her door.
‘Blooming hell, Rose. You gave me a fright – I thought it was Regan come to collect the rent.’ Cora took a drag on a cheroot and then stamped it out under the heel of her boot.
‘I’m sorry,’ Rose whispered. ‘I’ve come to collect my bag. I’m moving out.’
‘Good for you, nipper. I wish I could do the same.’
‘What keeps you here? Haven’t you got any family who would take you in?’
Cora gave her a pitying look. ‘You might have good people waiting for you, but some of us ain’t so lucky. My pa is in the clink and Ma only wants to see me if I give her money for gin. Go on, kid. Grab your things and make a run for it before his nibs turns up. Flossie says he’s got his eye on you, so don’t hang about.’
‘I will, and thanks, Cora. I’ll miss you and Flossie, will you tell her that for me?’
Cora nodded emphatically. ‘Good luck, kid.’ She retreated into her room, and closed the door.
Rose hurried up the second flight of stairs and collected her things, but as she made her way downstairs she heard a door open and Regan’s loud voice berating one of the girls. It was dark on the landing, but peering through the banisters she could see him standing in a shaft of light. He was shaking his fist and using foul language that would have made the toughest gold prospector blush. Rose shrank into the shadows, hoping that he would visit another of the rooms on the ground floor, and she sighed with relief when she heard the sound of his booted feet stamping towards the back of the house. She hurtled down the remaining stairs and out into the cold night, almost falling into Eugene’s arms as he waited for her.
‘You’d think the devil was after you,’ he said, relieving her of the heavy valise. ‘Come on Rose, let’s go home.’
Cecilia was not over-effusive, but she made Rose welcome and sent a maid to light a fire in one of the many bedrooms. Giddings relieved Rose of her outer garments and she could feel his silent disapproval, but she smiled and nodded graciously, taking Cecilia as her model for ladylike behaviour as she handed him her valise. If this was how a lady was expected to behave she could do it with ease, even if she had to resist the temptation to tell the footman that she might be poor, but she was just as good as him, and she did not judge people by outward appearances.
‘I’ve got some correspondence to deal with. I’ll be in the study.’ Eugene hurried off without giving his sister a chance to object.
‘Come with me, Rose,’ Cecilia said calmly. ‘We’ll wait for Gene in the drawing room.’ She led the way up the gracefully curving sweep of the staircase to the crimson and gold drawing room, where she motioned Rose to take a seat.
‘So what happened to bring you here this evening?’ Cecilia selected a cut-glass decanter from a side table. �
�Would you like a glass of sherry?’
Rose nodded. ‘Yes, please, Miss Sheldon.’
Cecilia filled two delicately engraved glasses and handed one to Rose. ‘I thought we’d agreed that you would call me Cissie.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry, but you didn’t invite me to stay. It was the guvnor who insisted that you wouldn’t mind, given the circumstances.’
Cecilia moved to a chair by the fire and sat down. ‘What were they exactly, Rose? Gene didn’t stop to explain, which is typical of my brother.’
‘Nat Regan is the man who owns the house in Black Raven Court. I think you know what sort of place it is.’
‘I have a vague idea.’
‘Well, he discovered that I was dossing down in the boxroom, and he wanted me to work for him, if you know what I mean.’
‘I’m not so naïve that I don’t know what happens in a brothel, although Gene probably supposes that I am innocent in such matters. I’m a woman of the world, or at least I’m not entirely ignorant of what happens outside my own door.’ Cecilia sat back, sipping her drink. ‘Tell me what happened.’
It was a relief to talk freely and Rose did not spare the details of the filthy conditions in which the girls lived, or the violence that Regan used to control them. Cecilia appeared to be more saddened than shocked and she shook her head.
‘If only there was something that could be done to save women from being exploited in such a way. This man Regan ought to be locked up in prison and they should throw away the key.’
‘I agree,’ Rose said earnestly. ‘But I’m afraid that society would have to change its ideas, too.’
‘Whatever do you mean, Rose?’
‘I travelled from Australia in the company of two missionaries, Mr and Mrs Parker. Adele Parker is a kind and lovely person, but she talked about “fallen women” as if they were a different species. From what I saw in Black Raven Court, the girls there had little option other than to sell the only thing they have – themselves. It’s poverty that drives them to that way of life, and men like Regan who take advantage of their misfortune.’
‘I’m afraid there is a lot of prejudice among good, honest people, and it will take years or even decades to bring about a change in public opinion.’
‘One day, when I’ve had more experience, I’ll write an article about their plight,’ Rose said with feeling. ‘Cora and Flossie helped me when I was lost and alone with no one to turn to. That isn’t the act of bad women, and I was sorry to say goodbye to them.’
‘I understand, although I’ve never had direct dealing with ladies of the night.’ Cecilia looked up as the door opened and Eugene strolled into the room. ‘We were just talking about Rose’s friends in Black Raven Court. She wants to write a piece about them for your paper.’
Eugene poured himself a drink. ‘That would make Radley sit up and take notice, but we need to wait for the right time. At the moment I’m trying to persuade him to send me to Egypt to cover the aftermath of the war. The bombardment might be over, but it’s a sure bet that there will be trouble later on.’
‘No! Are you really going to Egypt?’ Rose almost spilled her drink as she placed the glass on a nearby table. ‘How exciting.’
‘Come on, Gene,’ Cecilia said, chuckling. ‘You just want a holiday, admit it. You could stay in Alexandria with Mama and Papa and attend the balls and parties that I’m sure still continue even now, as they seem to do when the army are involved. I believe, if the history books are correct, that there was a ball on the eve of Waterloo.’
‘I wasn’t very interested in history at school.’ Eugene went to sit by the fire, taking the decanter and a glass with him. ‘Anyway, the last thing I want is to squire the plain daughters of generals and naval captains at stuffy soirées.’
‘So you really want to go to a place ravaged by war?’ Rose stared at him open-mouthed. ‘Won’t it be terribly dangerous?’
‘Maybe, but that’s what makes it so attractive. I wanted to be an explorer when I was a boy, but Papa wanted me to join the army or the Civil Service. I was at a complete loose end when I left Cambridge and then Arthur offered me a job on the paper. I don’t think Papa has quite forgiven me for going into journalism.’
‘Poor Gene,’ Cecilia said drily. ‘You’ll have us both weeping into our hankies in a minute.’ She turned to Rose with a mischievous smile. ‘My brother is all talk. He truly believes that the pen is mightier than the sword, and much safer.’
‘Thank you, Cissie. I’ll prove you wrong one day.’ Eugene sipped his drink, eyeing Rose thoughtfully. ‘Your fiancé is in Egypt, so I might well run into him. If you want to give me a message, I’ll pass it on.’
‘Do you really think you’ll see Max?’ Rose asked eagerly.
‘Who knows? But it’s possible, I suppose.’
‘Don’t give her false hope, Gene,’ Cecilia said sharply. ‘That’s unkind.’
Rose jumped to her feet. ‘You could take me with you, Guvnor. I don’t want to stay in the office without you, and Nicholls would make my life impossible.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’ Cecilia rose to her feet. ‘That was the dinner gong. Let’s put a stop to this conversation before it becomes even more outrageous. Whoever heard of a woman reporter, let alone one travelling abroad to report on a conflict?’
‘You’re forgetting that Mama is in Egypt, supporting our father in everything he does, and Miss Nightingale went to the Crimea with her nurses …’
Cecilia held up her hand. ‘Stop now, Gene. Don’t fill Rose’s head with such nonsense. We have to find her somewhere safe to live and a regular source of income that does not involve guns and bloodshed.’
‘No, really, Cissie.’ Rose hurried after her as Cecilia left the room. ‘The thought of travelling to Egypt doesn’t frighten me. When I marry Max I’ll follow the drum, or whatever they call it.’
Cecilia turned to give her brother a black look. ‘See what you’ve started, Gene. This is all your fault.’
‘It always is,’ Eugene said, chuckling. ‘Who knows? Rose might make an excellent war correspondent. At the very least her presence would cheer the men up.’
‘Idiot.’ Cecilia tossed her head and continued downstairs to the dining room in affronted silence.
That evening, after a delicious meal and two glasses of wine, Rose went to her room. A fire burned brightly in the grate and the chintzy curtains had been drawn to shut out the cold night. The coverlet had been turned back and the pillows plumped up so that the brass bed seemed to beckon to her with the promise of her first good night’s sleep since she had left the ship. Her feet sank into the soft pile of the blue and pink carpet and the highly polished mahogany furniture gleamed in the firelight. She sat for a while in a chintz-covered chair, warming her feet on the brass fender. Wild imaginings of travelling to Egypt with Eugene made her dizzy with excitement, but the voice of common sense told her that it was just a dream and unlikely to happen. But if Eugene were to go abroad, it would leave her alone in a man’s world, where the inevitable outcome would leave her jobless as well as homeless.
The euphoria created by excellent wine and good food evaporated as the events of the past few days crowded in on her, and she dragged herself away from the comforting warmth of the fire. A nightgown in fine lawn, trimmed with broderie anglaise, had been laid out on the bed, and she marvelled at Cissie’s thoughtfulness. A quick look in the clothes press revealed that the garments that had been given to her were neatly folded, waiting for her to take her pick next day, and there was warm water in the jug on the washstand. To be made so welcome by relative strangers brought tears to her eyes, and she knew she could never repay such kindness, but she also knew that she must not get used to living like this. Tomorrow she would meet Maria after a gap of nine years, and she hoped that she would be able to give her some information about the tenants of the Captain’s House. Eugene, under the influence of several glasses of claret and an excellent dinner, had given Rose permission to take the time off next day, a
nd the prospect of meeting Max’s half-sister again after so many years was daunting and yet exciting.
Rose undressed and washed, using the expensive cake of scented soap, before drying herself on a fluffy cotton towel. The nightgown was cool to the touch but the delicate material warmed to her body in an almost sensual way as she climbed into bed and, having snuffed out the candle, she lay down on the soft feather mattress. The flickering firelight sent shadows dancing on the ceiling and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax and slide effortlessly into a deep sleep.
After an undisturbed night in a comfortable bed Rose awakened next morning, feeling ready for anything the day might bring. She raised herself on her elbow, realising that she had slept through the maid clearing the ashes from the grate, and a fire had been lit. The curtains were pulled back to allow a pale, watery sun to filter into the room and a cup of hot chocolate was ready to hand. The unlooked-for luxury of being waited on was delightful, but even as Rose sat back and sipped the sweet drink she kept telling herself that it would not last. She would have to face the real world sooner or later, and it was with this in mind that she joined Cecilia in the dining room for breakfast.
‘Is Eugene still in bed?’ Rose asked as she spooned buttered eggs onto a plate.
‘Heavens, no. He left half an hour ago for the office. I think he’s planning his campaign to persuade Arthur that a trip to Egypt is an absolute necessity.’
‘Do you think he’ll agree?’ Rose snared a piece of crisp bacon on a fork and added it to her plate before taking her place at the table.
Cecilia filled a cup with coffee and passed it to her. ‘Gene usually manages to get his own way in the end.’
‘You don’t mind him risking his life like that?’
‘What I think doesn’t matter as far as my brother is concerned. Gene does what he wants. Anyway, it seems that the fighting is over.’ Cecilia reached for a slice of toast. ‘Don’t forget we’re visiting Maria Barnaby later this morning.’