by Dilly Court
‘I understand,’ she said slowly. ‘I don’t agree, of course, but I’ve known all along that Nicholls and the other men in the office didn’t approve of me.’
‘It’s not you, Munday. They’re afraid to allow women into the workplace because they fear for their own jobs. You’re a talented young woman and you deserve a chance to show what you can do.’
Rose shrugged and turned her head to stare out into the swirling snow. ‘I have plenty to do. Maria needs my help, and the Captain’s House is free now, so I can move in and get things straight. Then there’s Harry Norman: I’ll have time to visit him.’
‘Wait a minute, Munday. I have an idea.’
The eager tone in his voice made Rose turn to face him. ‘What is it, Guvnor?’
He rose to his feet, chuckling. ‘I’ve thought of a way round this problem. Sit down and I’ll tell you.’
Rose did as he asked, folding her hands neatly in her lap. ‘Go on. I’m listening.’
‘You intended to write an article featuring our wounded soldier’s return home and his struggle to provide for himself and his dependants.’
‘That was my idea, but I can’t do it now.’
‘Yes, you can, Munday. Do exactly as you planned, but do it under a pen name – a masculine one, of course. Women novelists have been using male pseudonyms for years, so why shouldn’t you?’
‘I could write the articles, but I wouldn’t be able to show my face here.’
‘Of course not, and that’s where I come in. Bring your work to me in Tavistock Square and no one will be any the wiser. Leave the rest to me, and I’ll arrange payment.’
‘Won’t Mr Radley want to know the identity of this new contributor?’
‘Not at all. We have many such people, which means we have no need to employ full-time reporters. I myself am just playing at being a journalist, as you very well know. I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Egypt, even if part of it was spent in a smelly tent with a group of angry captives – that is until your gallant captain rescued us.’
Rose could tell by Eugene’s tone that he was testing her, and she looked away. ‘Yes, it was a brave deed,’ she said casually.
‘I expect he’ll be relieved to know that you are about to move into the Captain’s House.’
‘I’m sure he will,’ Rose said evasively. ‘What male name do you think best suits me, Guvnor? Or should it be something cryptic?’
‘What do you suggest?’ Eugene leaned back in his chair, his eyes the colour of warm honey and a humorous curve to his lips.
Rose thought for a moment. ‘Nomad,’ she said firmly. ‘I think that sums me up nicely.’
She stood up and was about to leave the room when Eugene called her back. He rose to his feet and moved around the desk, holding out his hand. ‘Take this, Munday. You’ll need it for expenses.’ He pressed two gold sovereigns and some small change into her hand.
‘I can’t accept it, Guvnor,’ Rose protested. ‘It’s your money.’
‘Don’t worry about that. I’ll claim it off expenses.’ Eugene gave her a searching look. ‘Did your fiancé take care of you financially, Munday?’
‘He offered to pay my fare home, Guvnor.’
‘But he didn’t make arrangements for you to receive a regular allowance?’
‘I saw him briefly, Guvnor. There wasn’t time …’
‘You’re making excuses for the fellow. He should have done all that before he left the country.’ Eugene held up his hands as Rose opened her mouth to protest. ‘Don’t worry, Munday. I’m not going to say anything further on the subject, but you must come to me if you need funds. The paper will pay, so you don’t need to feel under an obligation to me.’
‘Thank you, Guvnor.’
‘Do you promise to tell me when you need money?’ His gaze held hers and she nodded.
‘I promise, Guvnor.’
His stern look softened into a wide smile. ‘That didn’t hurt, did it? Good luck with the story, Nomad. I’ll await the first article with bated breath.’ He returned to his seat and picked up a sheaf of notes.
The door to the Captain’s House was open when Rose arrived, and as she stepped over the threshold she was enveloped in a steamy cloud smelling of carbolic and furniture polish. The sound of voices was interspersed with gales of laughter and she recognised Flossie’s gravelly tones with Cora’s smoky voice giving a response. Sparrow’s high-pitched efforts were accompanied by Polly’s giggles, and then Maria appeared at the foot of the staircase, calling out for quiet because Teddy was taking a nap.
‘Maria, what are you doing here?’ Rose asked anxiously. ‘I didn’t expect you to help with the hard work of clearing up after those pigs.’
‘I haven’t done much, Rose. I came to get away from Jessie, who’s driving me mad. She wants to turn my house into a refuge for fallen women, as she puts it. So I wrapped the children up in their warmest clothes and we enjoyed a brisk walk. Polly is so excited about Christmas, that it was a way of diverting her attention to something other than presents and Christmas treats.’
‘Where is she now? I thought I heard her voice.’
‘She’s in the kitchen, supposedly helping Sparrow to make bread under Cora’s supervision. They managed to get the range going, which is why the house feels reasonably warm, and Flossie seems intent on scrubbing floors. I think she’s upstairs, starting on one of the bedrooms as we speak, although I hate to think what sort of state they might be in.’
‘Everything seems so well organised.’ Rose opened the sitting-room door and stepped inside. ‘Someone has been working hard,’ she said, gazing appreciatively at the coal fire roaring up the chimney and the newly scrubbed floor. The sofa and two armchairs were worn and threadbare, but the previous occupants had treated them reasonably well, and although there were ring marks and burns on what once had been a polished oak tea table, it was still usable. ‘I thought it would be worse,’ she added with a sigh of relief.
‘Flossie and Cora thought it best to make one room habitable at a time, but they’re adamant they want to move in before Christmas.’ Maria went to sit on the window seat. ‘I love this house and the view of the river. If I lived here I think I’d sit all day, and watch the boats coming and going, and the cranes working.’
‘You really are a romantic, aren’t you?’ Rose said, smiling. ‘But I agree, there’s something so vital about the river, despite the mud and the stench in summer. My earliest memories are of Pa taking me out in one of the rowing boats, and the sunbeams skimming the ripples of the water. He used to tell me that they were angels’ smiles, and I loved that.’
Maria dashed a tear from her cheek. ‘Stop it, Rose. You’re making me cry and that won’t do. We have to be practical as well as thrifty, but a few bright cushions on the sofa and chairs, and a decent tablecloth to cover the marks will make a huge difference.’
‘I suppose I ought to take a look at the kitchen,’ Rose said reluctantly. ‘I’m not much of a cook. Sadie did all that when we lived in the school house. She used to make the most marvellous gingerbread.’
Maria turned her head to gaze out at the wintry scene. ‘I wonder if Caroline and Phineas will give this house to you and Max as a wedding present. You’d be happy here, wouldn’t you?’
Rose took off her mantle and draped it over the back of the sofa. She sat down, resting her feet on the brass fender. ‘I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I had a vague idea that we would live in married quarters wherever Max was stationed. He said India was a possibility.’
‘Are you sure that’s what you want, Rose?’ Maria stared at her, frowning. ‘I just have a feeling that something is not quite right between you two.’
‘I still love Max. Of course I do. I’ve been in love with him since I was nine years old, but now I’ve been given a chance to do something for myself. To be someone in my own right and not just an officer’s wife.’
‘Go on,’ Maria prompted. ‘Has this anything to do with Eugene Sheldon?’
<
br /> Rose looked away, staring into the orange and yellow flames as they licked the soot on the fireback, creating glow fairies. ‘Indirectly, I suppose. As a matter of fact I’ve lost my job at the newspaper because the men don’t want to work with a woman.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ Maria said wearily. ‘It’s the way of the world, Rose. Maybe in a hundred years or so things will be different, but there are very few professions open to us women.’
‘Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, Eugene has asked me to write articles under a pseudonym, starting with Harry Norman’s story. No one will know I’m a woman.’
‘How exciting. What name will you use?’
‘We thought that Nomad was quite suitable. That’s what I am, Maria. I’ve spent my life moving from one place to another, and lived with people who aren’t my real family. I’m like driftwood, tossed about on the tide.’
‘Not any more,’ Maria said firmly. ‘Max must provide you with a home in London so that you have a base to which you can return. He won’t be a soldier for ever, so he must think ahead, especially when the babies start to arrive.’
‘Heavens above!’ Rose said, chuckling. ‘I’m not even sure I’m engaged.’ She demonstrated by holding out her left hand. ‘No ring, although Max did promise to buy me one when he returns to London.’
‘And is he supporting you financially? I’m not being nosy, it’s just that Max seems to be so casual in his arrangements. How does he expect you to live while he’s away?’
‘Eugene has given me money for expenses. I’ll support myself until we’re officially engaged, Maria. I’m nobody’s property.’
‘I’m married to Theo, but I don’t regard myself as being his property. He treats me like an equal, and when he’s away at sea I have to be both mother and father to my children.’
Rose stood up again and reached for her mantle. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you, and I’m not against marriage. I’m just not sure I’m ready for such a commitment.’
‘Where are you off to now? You’ve only just arrived.’
‘I’m going to Bow for a chat with Harry and his mother. I want to get the first article written as quickly as possible, so that I can begin work on the second.’
Maria jumped to her feet. ‘Won’t you go to the kitchen first? Sparrow will be terribly disappointed if you go without seeing her.’
‘I think I’ll just slip out, otherwise she’ll want to come with me, and this is business, not pleasure. I’ll make it up to her when I get home. Perhaps we’ll go out and buy a huge Christmas tree.’
‘Not too large,’ Maria said, smiling. ‘This isn’t Pier House.’
‘Killjoy.’ Rose gave her a hug.
Outside a bitter east wind slapped Rose’s cheeks, making her eyes water as she climbed the watermen’s stairs to the main road. She stood on the edge of the pavement, hoping she would not have to wait too long for a cab, and it was a relief when one finally came to a halt at the kerb. She climbed in and huddled in a corner, shivering and wishing that she had the fur-lined cape that Cecilia had given her, but it was still with the rest of the garments in Tavistock Square, awaiting collection. The sleety rain dampened her mantle, and her fingers and toes were numbed with cold long before she reached her destination. As the driver drew his horse to a halt outside Harry’s house, Rose fumbled in her reticule for money to pay the fare, which the cabby accepted with a grunt.
‘How long are you going to be, miss?’ he demanded, scowling at her beneath beetling black eyebrows. ‘This ain’t the sort of place you’ll be likely to find a cab to take you home.’
‘If I say half an hour, how much would that cost if you were to wait for me, sir?’
A reluctant smile creased his weathered cheeks. ‘Well, for a lady like yourself I’d add an extra florin, considering the distance we’ve come.’
‘That’s fair enough,’ Rose said gratefully. The thought of wandering the back streets of Bow in search of a cab was too daunting to worry about the cost, especially as it was a legitimate expenditure, and she was certain that Eugene would approve. ‘I’ll be as quick as I possibly can. Thank you.’ She alighted and crossed the narrow strip of pavement to knock on the door.
It opened just far enough for a small girl to poke her head out. ‘Who are you?’ she demanded. ‘You don’t look like the tallyman.’
‘I came here yesterday,’ Rose said patiently. ‘Do you remember me now?’
‘Your bonnet’s ruined, miss. The feathers is all wet and droopy.’
‘Who is it, Mary?’
Rose recognised Harry’s voice and she leaned closer. ‘It’s me – Rose. May I come in?’
‘Let the lady in, Mary.’ The sound of shuffling footsteps grew nearer and the door opened wide. Harry’s smile was all the welcome she needed and Rose entered the untidy front room. Nightclothes had been thrown off and discarded over a wooden clothes rack, and crudely carved wooden toys littered the floor. The pervading smell of damp, dry rot and sour milk made Rose recoil, but she forced herself to smile even though Harry could not see her.
‘How are you today, Harry?’
‘Better for being with my family, but I’m bloody useless, if you’ll excuse the language, miss.’ Harry felt his way to the battered sofa and sat down, narrowly missing the toddler who was sitting on the floor, chewing a carrot.
‘You nearly trod on Daisy,’ Mary said crossly. ‘You got to be more careful, Harry.’
He pulled a face. ‘My little sister bullies me, and she’s only five.’
Mary stood very erect. ‘Ma leaves me in charge when she’s out at work.’
Rose sat down next to Harry, shifting her weight uneasily as one of the sofa springs dug into her flesh. Daisy had finished her carrot and was beginning to whine. Rose scooped her up and sat her on her lap, trying not to grimace as she caught a whiff of a soiled nappy. Daisy stopped crying and amused herself by tugging at Rose’s bonnet strings.
‘Where is your mother, Harry?’ Rose asked as she dandled Daisy on her knee. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘We don’t need you. I’m looking after them,’ Mary said firmly.
‘And you’re doing a very good job, too.’ Rose reached out to stroke Mary’s cheek and she was struck by the difference between Polly Barnaby, who was a picture of health and happiness, and Mary Norman, whose sallow skin and stick-thin arms and legs told a very different story.
‘Ma goes to people’s houses to do their washing,’ Harry said apologetically. ‘I suppose you’re wondering why there’s no man of the house, but I never knew my dad. I were only eight when Ma met Clem and they got together, and then come the nippers. It was all going fine until two years ago and there was an accident at the factory. Clem never come home again.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Rose said gently. ‘But where are your brothers?’
‘The boys have jobs in the soap works, and here am I, sitting on the sofa, doing nothing.’
Rose laid her hand on his. ‘You were wounded in the service of your country, Harry, and you need time to recover.’
‘But I won’t, will I? I’m a blind man, Rose. What good am I to anyone?’
Daisy began to struggle and Rose set her down on the rush matting. ‘Your story will make the newspaper, and you’ll be paid for telling the world what it was like out there in the desert. I’ll write down what you say, and then everyone will know what brave soldiers we have protecting us and our interests abroad.’ She took out her purse and pressed two silver crowns into his hand. ‘That’s just the start,’ she said eagerly.
‘Ten shillings!’ Harry whispered. ‘Ma don’t earn that in a week.’
‘If I do my job properly you’ll have people offering to help you and your family, and maybe the eye doctors can do something to restore your sight.’
‘Do you really think so?’
‘I believe there’s always hope.’ Rose took her notebook and pencil from her reticule. ‘We’ll start right away – from the beginning, Harry. Why did you join u
p in the first place?’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daylight was fading when Rose eventually arrived back at the Captain’s House. She had worked on her notes during the cab ride from Bow, and she was satisfied that she had the beginnings of a fascinating story, as told by a man who had seen action in battle and had suffered an injury that would change his life, and that of his family, for ever.
The door was not locked and as Rose entered the house its warmth seemed to wrap itself around her. The aroma of cooking made her stomach rumble and she realised that she had not eaten since a hurried breakfast of bread and jam. Flossie’s warbling soprano came from somewhere on the upper floors, and a whiff of tobacco smoke might show approval from the old captain, or it could be Cora having a rest over a cup of tea in the kitchen. Rose smiled as she went into the front parlour where Sparrow was curled up on the sofa with Polly and Teddy, while Maria read them a fairy story.
‘Oh, there you are.’ Maria laid the book down on her lap. ‘You’ve been ages, Rose.’
‘You went without me,’ Sparrow added crossly. ‘You said you wouldn’t leave me again.’
Rose laid her reticule and gloves on a side table. ‘I have a job to do, but I’m back now, and there’s still time to go in search of the Christmas tree that I promised we’d get.’
‘Really?’ Sparrow jumped to her feet and danced round the room, which made Polly and Teddy follow suit.
Laughing, Rose picked up Teddy, who was in danger of being trampled on, and set him down on his mother’s lap. She shot a questioning look at Maria. ‘Are you going home, or are you staying here tonight?’
‘I would love to stay here, but that’s not possible. I didn’t come prepared, and I need to keep an eye on the Spriggs sisters. I’m afraid if I leave them for too long I’ll find my home filled with desperate souls, saved from perdition by Jessie.’
‘Must we go home, Mama?’ Polly asked plaintively. ‘I like it here. It’s warm and cosy, and Cora cooks nice things.’