Dilly Court - The Button Box

‘But that’s a good thing, isn’t it, Clara?’ Jane said, smiling. ‘I mean this isn’t what we are used to. I can remember when we owned the whole house and we had a cook and a maid, and Pa was a different person when Mama was alive. He used to kiss me goodbye every morning before he left for the City, and he dressed smartly and smelled of cologne.’

Clara put her cup down with a sigh. ‘You’re right, Jane. Things were better then but we have a chance to make a new life for ourselves, and you can play your part.’

‘What can I do? I’m a cripple and always will be.’

‘Don’t say things like that. You might not be able to walk very far, but you’re a bright girl and you have a good head for figures. You can help me in the shop.’

‘Can I really?’ Jane’s eyes shone with excitement. ‘I’d love that.’

‘But first we have to move our things to Drury Lane. Let’s make a start. The sooner we leave here, the better.’

It was not far from Wych Street to the shop in Drury Lane, but the snow on the pavements was rapidly turning to slush. Clara had hoped that Luke might turn up and offer to help, but there was no sign of him and she had no intention of going to his lodgings to beg for assistance.

As soon as they had sorted out what to take and what might be left until another day, Clara took Jane to the shop. It was slow going, but Jane was determined to walk and the distance hardly merited spending precious funds on a cab. Clara lit the fire in the back parlour and left Jane to settle in while she went home to collect as much as she could carry. She lost count of how many trips she made, but darkness was falling as she left the house in Wych Street for the last time, and under a cloudless sky the temperature plummeted.

Slipping and sliding on the frozen slush, she was close to exhaustion and every muscle in her body ached. Her fingers were clawed around the handles of a valise and a carpet bag, and she had lost all feeling in her toes. A man, walking head down against the bitter wind, almost collided with her and she lost her footing, saving herself from falling by clutching a lamppost.

‘Clara, is that you?’ The young man she had met at Miss Silver’s funeral hurried to her side.

‘Mr Silver?’ Clara managed to regain her balance and salvage her dignity.

He bent down to retrieve the carpet bag and valise. ‘Did you hurt yourself? I saw that fellow barge into you. He didn’t even stop to see if you were all right.’

‘My feet went from under me.’ She leaned against the lamppost, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to bring back the feeling in them. ‘I’m not hurt.’

‘Where are you going? May I help you? These bags are very heavy.’

‘I’m going to the shop in Drury Lane.’ Clara eyed him warily. He was hatless and his wildly curling auburn hair reached almost to the shoulders of his jacket, which was little protection on such a cold night. He pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, an unconscious gesture she recognised from the time they met at Miss Silver’s graveside. She had a sudden desire to laugh. ‘We do seem to meet in the oddest places, Mr Silver.’

‘Nathaniel, please.’ He smiled shyly. ‘Did you say you were going to the shop?’

‘Yes, I’m afraid I have no choice but to move in. Do you mind?’

‘No, of course not. I told you before that I have no moral claim on my aunt’s estate. Let me prove my good intentions by helping you with your luggage.’

Clara was too tired to argue, but she realised that he had his violin case slung over one shoulder. ‘May I carry that? You have your hands full.’

He unhooked it and handed it to her. ‘I’ve just come from the audition I told you and Jane about at the Gaiety Theatre.’

‘Did you get the job?’ She started walking in the direction of Drury Lane.

‘Yes, it will do until something better turns up.’

She came to a halt, turning her head to give him a questioning look. ‘I don’t understand. If you have to take any work that comes along, why are you allowing me to take your inheritance? You could challenge the will, if you chose, and I don’t want to think of the shop as my own and then have it taken away from me.’

‘That won’t happen, I promise you.’

‘But you might need the money.’

‘I can assure you that is not the case.’

‘You told me that you play on street corners in order to buy food or to pay your rent. That doesn’t sound like the action of a man of means.’

‘Might we continue this conversation somewhere out of the cold? My hands are turning blue and I’ve lost the feeling in my feet.’

Clara nodded. ‘Me, too. Let’s get to the shop and sort this out once and for all.’

The shop was in darkness but a flicker of light be-neath the parlour door was a welcome sight. Clara unlocked the door and Nathaniel staggered in with the heavy bags, which he dumped on the floor with a sigh of relief.

‘I don’t know how you managed to carry these any distance.’

The parlour door opened and Jane peered anxiously into the dark shop. ‘Is that you, Clara?

‘Yes, and I met Nathaniel in the street. He was kind enough to help me with the last of our bags.’

‘Nathaniel! How lovely to see you again,’ Jane cried excitedly. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? I’ve had the kettle on the hob for an hour or more, and I found some tea in one of the cupboards in the scullery.’

‘That would be nice,’ Clara said hastily. She laid a restraining hand on Nathaniel’s arm as he made to follow her sister into the back room. ‘Tell me why I should trust you not to make trouble for us in the future. I really need to know.’

‘I am not a poor musician. Well, that’s not quite true. I am poor at the moment, but in a few months’ time, when I reach the age of twenty-five, I’ll come into the fortune left to me by my late father. He was of the opinion that if I was young when I inherited the money he had worked so hard to make I would run riot and squander it. So you see, Clara, you have no need to worry. Now, shall we join your sister for a cup of tea?’

‘In a minute,’ Clara said warily. ‘If what you say is true, your family must have property somewhere. Why then do you live in London, playing for pennies on street corners?’

‘You’re right. There is a town house and a country estate, but one of the conditions of my father’s will was that should I ignore his wishes and follow my dream to become a serious musician and composer, I had to leave home. I have to prove that I can earn my living and to survive without any financial help.’

‘That seems extremely hard,’ Clara said, frowning.

‘My uncle is executor of Father’s will, and he sees to it that I don’t put a foot over the threshold until I’m of age. I have a suspicion that he hopes I might die of some terrible disease or starve on the streets in the meantime, or should I give up and prove myself a failure, I forfeit my claim and he gets everything. You see, my father was of a whimsical turn of mind.’

‘I wouldn’t call it that,’ Clara said hotly. ‘He sounds a very spiteful man.’

‘You know all there is to know about me now, Clara. You can trust me.’

‘Yes, but it’s a strange state of affairs.’

‘Not in my family. If you knew the rest of the Silvers you wouldn’t be surprised.’

‘And yet Miss Silver lived very frugally and never took a day off work,’ Clara said, frowning. ‘That does seem odd when her brother was so well-off.’

‘I didn’t know, or I would have tried to help her.’ Nathanial pushed a stray lock of hair back from his forehead. ‘I really would.’

Jane emerged from the parlour, leaning heavily on one crutch. ‘Are you going to stay there chatting all evening?’ Her eyes widened and her lips formed a circle of surprise. ‘Who is that outside? I saw a shadow in the glass.’