Kate Kingsbury - Decked With Folly

Pansy turned back to her polishing. “I won’t say nothing, but I just hope she doesn’t do anything else stupid.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Gertie started sweeping again. “So how are you and Samuel getting along now? Is he still not talking to you?”

Pansy shrugged. “I haven’t seen much of him lately. He’s been busy with the horses and the motorcars, what with all the guests coming in for Christmas.”

“You two are always arguing.” Gertie pulled another chair out of the way and shoved the sweeper under the table. “I don’t know why you bother.”

“I like Samuel. And he likes me. He just doesn’t want what I want, that’s all.”

“You mean he doesn’t want to get married.”

“He keeps saying I’m too young to know me own mind.” Pansy spun around to face her again, scrunching up the polishing cloth in between her hands. “He won’t believe me when I say I know down deep in me heart he’s the one for me.”

Gertie leaned on the handle of the sweeper. She felt sorry for the young girl, but someone needed to tell her the truth. It would be better coming from a friend, than for her to find out the hard way. “It’s just an excuse, Pansy. Find someone else. Someone what will bleeding appreciate you. Stop wasting your time on Samuel. The truth is, he’ll never marry you, no matter how old you get. His heart belongs to someone else.”

Pansy’s face crumpled. “But I love Samuel. He’s the only one I want. I can make him forget his old girlfriend, I know I can. Doris is in London now and I’m right here.”

“Doris might be in London but her twin sister is still here in the Pennyfoot. Daisy has to remind Samuel of Doris every time he sees her.”

“I know that. I wish she’d gone to London with her sister. I really do.”

Gertie sighed. “I’m sorry, Pansy, but Daisy is a good nanny and I’d hate to lose her. I’d never find another one to live in a room in a country club and look after the twins the way she does.”

Pansy dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. “I know. I just don’t know what to do.”

Gertie sighed. “Men. Who’d have ’em. I’ve had more than my share of ’em and, I tell you, half the time they’re not worth the trouble.”

“Well, what about Dan, then? I thought you were really sweet on him.”

“Dan’s all right. But he’s another one what’s bleeding afraid of getting married. Can’t say as I blame him, though. Taking on another man’s kids is not everyone’s cup of tea. The twins can be a handful at times, and it’s hard to tell them off when they’re not yours.”

“But Dan loves James and Lillian. You said so.”

“Yeah, well, loving them and taking care of them is two different things, ain’t it.”

“It’s a shame.” Pansy turned back to her polishing. “Children should have a father to take care of them.”

“Yeah, well, my kids haven’t had much bloody luck in that department, have they. They never really knew their real father.”

Pansy shook her head. “I still can’t believe Ian’s dead. I only met him once, but you’ve talked about him so much I feel like I knew him. He-” She broke off as a voice spoke from the doorway.

“’Allo, then! Look who’s here! If it ain’t the bold and beautiful Gertie McBride.”

Gertie froze. She’d know that voice anywhere. It was that bloke she bumped into earlier that morning. Sid Barrett, that was it.

Pansy was staring across the room at him, but Gertie refused to turn around. She jumped when his voice sounded right behind her, almost in her ear.

“How about that pint at the pub, then?”

“I told you, sir, I’m not supposed to be mixing with the guests.”

“He’s not a guest,” Pansy piped up. “He’s one of the footmen madam hired for the Christmas season.”

Gertie swung around to face Sid, eyes blazing. “Why the bleeding heck didn’t you tell me that?”

He shook his head. “Tut, tut. Such language from a lady. You didn’t ask me, luv. Besides, I liked the way you called me sir.”

“Don’t you luv me, you lying bugger.” She frowned at him. “How’d you know my name, anyhow?”

Sid grinned. “Made it my business to, didn’t I.” He tapped his nose. “I can find out anything I want if I really put my mind to it.”

Pansy giggled, and Sid winked at her, then set his gaze firmly on Gertie.

He made her nervous. Gertie gripped the sweeper’s handle. Something about his eyes. Shifty, that’s what he was. “I have to get on with my work,” she said stiffly. “So bugger off. You’re not supposed to be in here anyhow.”

“Right.” He glanced at Pansy then, who was staring at him all starry-eyed. “So how about you, then, luv? You’ll have a pint with me, won’t you?”

Giggling again behind her hand, Pansy nodded.

“No she won’t,” Gertie said, sending Pansy a warning look. “She’s already got a boyfriend.”

Looking back at Gertie, Sid tilted his head to one side. “Well, I really just came in to say I’m sorry for the loss of your husband.”

Gertie stared at him. “You knew Ross?”

Something flickered in Sid’s eyes. He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, then said slowly, “I thought she said his name was Ian Rossiter.” He nodded his head at Pansy. “I thought I heard her say as how he’d died and that he was the father of your twins. Sorry if I was mistaken.”

Gertie took a moment to collect her thoughts. How long had the bloke been standing there listening to their private conversation? No wonder he had shifty eyes. He was a bleeding Peeping Tom. “Ian Rossiter did die last night, but he was never my husband,” she said shortly.

“But he was the father of your twins, right?”

Gertie tossed her head. “Not that it’s any of your bloody business.”

“Ah well, anyway, I’m sorry.” Sid laid a hand on her shoulder. “That’s a terrible tragedy, to lose your husband. Especially when you’ve got two little ones to look after.”

Gertie shook off his hand and moved farther away from him, putting the sweeper between them. “You needn’t feel sorry for me. I’m glad he’s dead. So there. He never was no good so good bleeding riddance to him, that’s what I say.”

She was hoping to shock the man into leaving her alone, but Sid seemed unaffected by her bitter outburst. He looked about to say something, but another voice interrupted from the doorway. A gruff voice, with an officious tone that Gertie knew well.

“Well, well,” P.C. Northcott said, moving into the room. “I find that h’interesting. Very h’interesting indeed.”

Gertie sighed as she turned to face the constable, but it was Sid Barrett’s reaction that surprised her. With a muttered “Strewth!” he darted past the constable and practically ran from the room.

If she wasn’t so upset by the man’s rudeness she would have laughed. Constable Northcott was the last person on earth to reprimand anyone for annoying one of the servants. The only servant the constable had any time for was Mrs. Chubb, and that was because he enjoyed the sweets she gave him every time he visited her in the kitchen.

As for the rest of them, they was dirt under the constable’s feet, not worth any consideration. Which was a laugh, since he weren’t no better himself, having been brought up by a dust-man and a wife what took in laundry to keep food on the table.

One of these days, Gertie thought fiercely, she’d let him know she knew about his humble beginnings. That would put an end to his preening about with his fancy talk and all.

“I was looking for Mrs. Baxter,” Northcott said, puffing out his chest. “I ’ave urgent business with her. She’s not in her h’office, so where is she?”

Gertie raised her chin. “I don’t know where madam is. I’m not her bleeding keeper. She’s probably in her suite and won’t want to be disturbed.”