by Dilly Court
Maria shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, poppet. This isn’t our house, it’s where Rose is going to live. All your things are at home.’
‘We could bring them here,’ Polly said hopefully. ‘We haven’t got a tree in our house.’
‘Then we ought to buy two Christmas trees, Polly,’ Rose said, smiling. ‘One for you and one for us.’ She glanced out of the window. Darkness was falling quickly, due in part to the lowering clouds that were threatening more sleet or even snow. ‘If we go now we might miss the worst of the weather.’
Maria rose from the chair by the fire. ‘Polly, I want you to fetch your outdoor things and Teddy’s from the hallstand,’ she said firmly. ‘Perhaps you could help them, Sparrow? Teddy always needs a hand.’
Sparrow hesitated in the doorway. ‘Will we get some glass balls and tinsel today?’
‘Yes, if we see a shop selling such things.’ Rose picked up her gloves and reticule. ‘Hurry now, or we’ll find that all the trees have been snapped up.’
‘I’ll get my cape and bonnet.’ Maria hesitated, gazing out of the window. ‘It looks so cold and miserable outside.’
‘Perhaps we could spend Christmas Day here?’ Rose said, picking her words carefully. ‘I don’t wish to interfere, Maria, but Cora is a far better cook than Jessie.’
‘That would be wonderful. Anyway, I think Jessie intends to help in the soup kitchen on Christmas Day. I was thinking we would have to make do with cold pie. Mama and Freddie invited us to join them at Starcross Abbey, but I couldn’t face the journey with two small children.’
‘Then that’s settled. Perhaps I’ll invite Eugene to join us. He’ll be on his own because Cissie chose to remain in Egypt. Did I tell you that she’s fallen in love with a really handsome gentleman whose mother was an Indian princess?’
Maria was about to leave the room, but she came to a sudden halt. ‘No. Tell me more.’
The slippery pavements were crowded with late shoppers and people on their way home from work, mufflers flying and gloved hands clenched against the cold. Rose and Maria guided the children to the nearest greengrocer’s shop where Christmas trees were lined up like soldiers waiting for their orders. The window was illuminated by gaslight, adding a festive glow to the pyramids of oranges, lemons and apples, and the waxy white fruits and pale leaves of mistletoe were in sharp contrast to the scarlet berries and dark green leaves of the prickly holly. The contrasting bunches hung in rows, suspended on silver wires that twisted and twirled in the draught from the constant opening and closing of the shop door, creating a ballet of shimmering foliage.
Rose had grown used to spending Christmas in the summer months, but she could see from the rapt expressions on the children’s faces that they shared her feelings of excitement and awe, and to them the feathery pine trees must seem like an enchanted forest.
When it came to choosing, Sparrow took the lead and insisted on having the biggest tree that they could carry. Rose was doubtful at first, but Sparrow insisted that she was strong and proved it by hefting the desired fir off the pavement. Polly was also determined to have the tallest specimen possible, and, although Maria protested half-heartedly, Polly and Teddy began to snivel and another equally large tree was purchased. It proved too heavy for Maria and the children to carry, but a passing workman spotted their predicament and came to their rescue. Maria dimpled appreciatively as she accepted his offer of help, and the last Rose saw of them they were headed for the house in Great Hermitage Street followed by the burly man carrying the tree on his shoulder.
Later that evening, after an excellent supper eaten in the warmth of the kitchen, which was now sparkling clean, Sparrow had gone to bed exhausted, and Rose sat by the fire in the parlour writing her article for the newspaper. The scent of pine filled the room and the fir tree took up an entire corner, its topmost branch almost touching the ceiling. There had not been enough time for the purchase of decorations, but Rose had promised to remedy that next morning. She was tired, but happy to be in her new home, and pleasantly relaxed. The words had come easily as she described Harry’s struggle to come to terms with his disability, and the difficulties faced by his family. She had just inserted the last full stop when someone rapped on the front door. Rose waited for a moment, hoping that either Cora or Flossie would answer the urgent summons, although she suspected that they had slipped out to the nearest pub for a drink to celebrate their freedom from the Spriggs sisters. She set aside her work and went to see who was hammering on the door at this time in the evening.
She unlocked the door and opened it to find Eugene standing on the top step. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded.
‘That’s a fine way to welcome an old friend, Munday. May I come in?’
His comical expression brought a smile to her face and she stepped aside. ‘Of course. I’m sorry, Guvnor, you took me by surprise, that’s all.’
He stamped the snow off his shiny black shoes and shook the snowflakes off his top hat before entering. ‘I was on my way home, and, as I was passing, I thought I’d call in and see how it went with Harry this morning.’
Rose closed the door and turned the key in the lock. ‘This is the opposite direction to Tavistock Square,’ she said, chuckling.
‘A slight exaggeration.’ He tossed his hat at the hallstand, and as usual it missed and fell to the floor. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to her.
‘I see your aim hasn’t improved, Guvnor.’ Rose hung up his coat and rescued his hat, placing it out of harm’s way. ‘Just as well you weren’t given a pistol to protect yourself in Egypt – you’d probably have shot yourself in the foot.’
‘I’m an excellent marksman, as it happens, Munday,’ Eugene said equably.
‘Come into the parlour. It’s nice and warm.’
He stopped and sniffed. ‘Is Cora smoking navy twist these days?’
‘The girls are out, so it must be the captain. I think he’s happy that we’re here.’
‘Superstitious nonsense,’ Eugene said casually. ‘On the other hand, if it is you, sir,’ he added raising his voice slightly, ‘I am here on a goodwill mission, so there’s no need to worry about Miss Munday’s safety.’ He followed Rose into the parlour. ‘Well, this is pleasant. Small and shabby, but homely, and I see you have a tree. Isn’t it supposed to have things hanging off it, Munday?’
Rose motioned him to take a seat. ‘You know very well it is, Guvnor. Sit down and tell me why you came all this way to see me. It wasn’t to admire my Christmas tree, of that I’m certain.’
He perched on the edge of the sofa. ‘The springs in this piece of furniture are trying to escape. Maybe it ought to be humanely put out of its misery.’
‘I haven’t enough money to buy a new one, and as the house isn’t mine it would be pointless.’ Rose resumed her seat. ‘I’d offer you a drink, but there’s only tea, and I expect you’d prefer something stronger.’
‘I called in to see if you’d managed to finish the first part of Harry’s story.’
‘I have, and I hope I’ve done him justice.’ Rose handed over the paper she had written in neat copperplate.
‘You didn’t waste any time. That’s excellent.’ Eugene settled back on the sofa to read the article. He folded the paper and looked up, smiling. ‘Actually, I would love a cup of tea, please, Rose. If it’s not too much trouble.’
‘I’ll make it myself, as my servants are out carousing.’ Rose stood up, giggling at the shocked expression on his face. ‘I’m sure they aren’t misbehaving. It is almost Christmas and the poor things have had a truly miserable time under the thumb of Jessie Spriggs. She’s a redoubtable woman, but I’ve discovered that reformed sinners are very hard work.’
‘I’ll come and sit in the kitchen, then. I like to watch others work.’
‘When did you ever venture into the kitchens at Tavistock Square, Guvnor?’
He raised himself from the sofa and followed her. ‘I’m not sure I ever ventured below stairs in our London house. Our housekeeper is as f
ierce as Medusa. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has snakes instead of hair beneath her spotless white mobcap. But when I go to Greenfields, I often descend to the lower regions. Some of my best meals have been taken seated at the kitchen table.’
Rose led the way down the stairs to the basement. ‘I think you mentioned it before. How grand to have a house in town and another in the country.’
‘I love Greenfields. I spent most of my childhood there.’
‘I like the name. Is it as idyllic as it sounds?’ Rose opened the kitchen door and the scent of savoury stew still lingered in the warm air. ‘Make yourself comfortable, Guvnor. I’ll make the tea.’
‘Perhaps I’ll take you there one day.’ Eugene took a seat at the scrubbed pine table. ‘So how was Harry? Is he settling in at home?’
The kettle was simmering on the top of the range and Rose busied herself making a pot of tea, which she placed on the table. ‘They are so poor, Eugene.’ She blinked away a tear at the memory of the tiny house and the barefoot children. ‘I doubt if they get enough to eat, and, even including the money we’ll pay for his story, Harry isn’t going to be able to do much to support his family.’
‘Don’t upset yourself, Rose. I’m sure that there will be something we can do to help.’
She poured tea into a cup and added a dash of milk. ‘I’m afraid there’s no sugar.’
‘Are you short of money? You must be honest, Rose.’
She smiled as she pulled up a chair and sat opposite him. ‘You called me Rose.’
‘And you used my name, too.’ Eugene sipped his tea. ‘I prefer Gene. It’s less formal.’
‘I’m still your employee.’
He shook his head. ‘No, Rose, you’re more than that. I’m your friend and you will be a valued contributor to the Leader, starting with your article on Harry and his family.’
‘Do you like it?’
‘It’s a good piece, worthy of going to print.’
‘Really?’
‘I wouldn’t say so if it weren’t true. You have talent, and you have compassion, but you aren’t overly sentimental, which leads you to a balanced point of view. I think we can do something for Harry, and the first thing is to get him seen by a specialist at the Royal London Ophthalmic Hospital at Moorfields.’
‘It’s Saturday tomorrow, but if we could get him an appointment at the hospital, and if there was a glimmer of hope that he might see again, it would feel like a Christmas miracle.’
‘You’re right, Rose. What a story that would make, and I think it could happen.’
Rose eyed him over the rim of her cup. Her heart was thudding and she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. ‘How? Tell me, please.’
‘I know one of the surgeons at Moorfields. He’s a good chap and he owes me a favour. I can’t say any more without betraying a confidence, but leave it to me, Rose.’ Eugene downed the remainder of his tea. ‘I’ll take a cab to his house. Who knows? I might get invited to stay for dinner, if I’m not too late.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I should have offered you food.’
‘I wouldn’t have imposed on you, Rose.’ He folded the paper and tucked it into his inside pocket. ‘I’ll call in at the office on the way home and make sure that this goes into tomorrow’s edition. It’s just the sort of Christmas story that will tug at the readers’ heartstrings, and it might encourage a benefactor to come forward; someone who’ll be able to help the family. But first we need to get Harry an appointment at the hospital.’
‘I can hardly believe it,’ Rose jumped to her feet as he left the table. ‘Do you really think you can get Harry seen at such short notice?’
‘I can have a damned good try, Munday,’ Eugene said, chuckling. ‘I can swear in front of Munday, but I wouldn’t do so if I were speaking to Rose.’
His laughter was infectious and she found herself giggling. ‘You are ridiculous, Guvnor. I can poke fun at my boss, but I wouldn’t tease Gene.’
He took a small leather pouch from his pocket and laid it on the table. ‘Take that as payment for Nomad’s first piece. It should see you through the week, Rose.’
‘Thank you, Gene.’ She hurried after him as he was about to leave the room. ‘By the way, I’ve invited Maria and the children here for Christmas dinner. I’d really love it if you were able to come, too.’
He hesitated in the shadow of the doorway, turning to look her in the eye and his smile faded. ‘Would you, Rose? Or are you just saying that?’
‘I’ve said it, and I meant it.’ She stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his whiskery cheek. ‘I like your beard now that you’ve had it trimmed so neatly. It makes you look distinguished.’
He raised his hand to touch the side of his face. ‘I thought you disliked it, Rose.’
‘I didn’t care for the wild man look, but you are quite presentable now.’
‘I’d better leave before you destroy my morale entirely.’ He leaned over to kiss her lightly on the forehead. ‘You, on the other hand, always look beautiful, like a perfect rose.’ He took the stairs two at a time, leaving her staring after him in amazement.
Next morning Rose was up first. She went to the kitchen and riddled the embers in the range, adding kindling and more coal until she had a good fire going. Having filled the kettle she put it on to boil and cut herself a slice of bread. She had money for provisions, thanks to Eugene’s generosity, but Cora and Flossie would have to go shopping for necessities. There were other more important things to be done and Rose wanted to be out of the house before Sparrow awakened. The cups and saucers from last evening were still on the table and she picked up the one that Eugene had drunk from, holding it in her hands for a moment longer than was necessary before emptying the dregs and placing it in the stone sink. Eugene had complimented her on her writing and also on her looks, but Eugene Sheldon was a notorious flirt and saying such things came naturally to him. She spread butter and jam thinly on the bread and ate without really tasting it. She drank a cup of tea, and scribbled a note telling the others not to worry, she would be back later.
Having put on her mantle, bonnet and mittens, she left the house without disturbing anyone and set off on her mission to purchase presents for her surrogate family. The snow that had fallen in the night had frozen hard, but the sun was shining and there was barely a breeze as she made her way to the High Street. To take a cab was an extravagance, but the omnibuses were slow and crowded and Rose managed to convince herself that the outlay was justified. She was beginning to question her judgement after several cabs bowled past, and she was thinking of abandoning her plan to shop in Oxford Street when she saw a barouche drawn by a matched pair of bays, and it drew to a halt at the kerbside. She recognised Giddings, who was seated on the box next to the coachman, and he leaped smartly to the ground and opened the door.
Eugene leaned out. ‘Where are you off to, Rose? I was on my way to see you.’
‘I was trying to get a cab to Oxford Street. I need to get some presents.’
‘Then I arrived at the right moment.’ He alighted and proffered his arm. ‘Climb in, Miss Munday. Tell Simms we wish to visit Oxford Street, Giddings. We’re going shopping.’
‘But surely you have work to do?’ Rose allowed him to help her into the cab and he climbed in to sit beside her.
Giddings closed the door and the carriage moved off slowly at first, gathering speed as it made its way along the High Street, heading towards the City.
‘I went in early and did what was necessary.’ Eugene handed her a folded copy of the London Leader. ‘Here it is – today’s paper with your article on the front page.’
Rose’s hands shook as she unfolded the newspaper and saw the words she had penned put into print. ‘It’s hard to believe.’
‘Cousin Arthur thought it excellent. He didn’t even enquire as to the identity of Nomad.’
‘I don’t know what to say, Gene.’
‘You did it, Rose. It’s all down to you for bringing Harry Norman home, and even
better, I managed to persuade my friend at Moorfields to see him this afternoon. That’s why I was up at the crack of dawn – I was coming to give you the good news.’
‘We must let Harry know. I ought to go there instead of buying presents.’
‘There’s time for everything. I sent a messenger to tell Harry to be ready at one o’clock. My carriage is at your disposal.’
‘We’re taking him to the hospital?’
‘Of course. It’s the least I can do, considering the progress of Private Harry Norman is going to increase circulation by a huge amount.’
‘Why do you make yourself out to be a lesser man than you really are, Gene? You didn’t have to do this for Harry, and you didn’t have to help me.’
‘Perhaps I see something in you that others have missed, Rose. I will bask in your glory when Nomad is the most popular contributor to my paper.’
‘Your paper?’
‘Arthur is a wealthy man in his own right and he’s decided to retire. It came as a bit of a shock, but he’s handing the business over to me. Even so, I’m not sure that I want the responsibility – it means that I’ll have to be a respectable citizen and turn up for work every day.’
‘You don’t fool me,’ Rose said, smiling. ‘You are a far better man than the person you pretend to be.’
‘Tell that to my pa. I doubt if he’ll believe you.’
‘It seems to me that you’ve spent so much time acting the part of a libertine that your own family think it’s true.’
‘But you know differently?’
‘Yes, Gene. I do.’ Rose reached out to pat his gloved hand. ‘You’re a good man at heart.’
Eugene curled his fingers around hers, and they settled into a companionable silence as the carriage weaved through the traffic on its way to the West End. Rose was conscious of Eugene’s nearness, but it was a comfortable feeling and she was able to relax and look out of the window without feeling the need to make conversation. The snowy streets were crowded with horse-drawn vehicles, while pedestrians thronged the pavements, stopping to stare into brightly lit shop windows, or to pass the time of day. Rose was conscious of an air of excitement and anticipation that she had not experienced since she was a child. ‘We’re here,’ she cried as they approached Oxford Circus. ‘Just look at the shop windows – it looks so festive.’