Dilly Court - The Button Box

‘They’re quite capable of looking after themselves for a couple of hours,’ Luke said impatiently. ‘We’ll walk to the Gaiety; it’s not very far.’

‘All right. Just give me a minute to get my cloak and bonnet.’ Clara went through to the parlour where Jane was putting the finishing touches to the supper she was to share with Betsy. ‘That looks good,’ Clara said, smiling. ‘I wish I was staying at home, but Luke is taking me to the Gaiety.’

‘You might see Nathanial,’ Jane said eagerly.

Clara shook her head. ‘I hope not. Luke didn’t take too kindly to him when they met. It would be embarrassing.’

Betsy rested her stockinged feet on the brass fender. ‘I’d love to be taken out to supper, but I’m really too tired. Miss Lavelle was at her worst today. I’m sure she must be troubled with chilblains or something; she’s so crotchety these days.’

‘Perhaps she’s crossed in love,’ Jane said, sighing.

‘You read too many penny dreadfuls.’ Betsy stretched and yawned. ‘Pass me my plate, Jane. I’m dying of hunger.’

Clara put on her bonnet. ‘Don’t squabble while I’m out, and don’t open the door to anyone but me. Make sure you lock up after we’ve gone, Betsy.’

‘Stop fussing,’ Betsy said with a careless wave of her hand. ‘We can look after ourselves. Go out and enjoy your evening. I just wish it was me going to a nice restaurant and not you.’

‘I’m sure your turn will come, and yours too, Jane.’ Clara turned to see Luke standing in the doorway. He might have taken to a life on the wrong side of the law, but with his fair hair waved back from a high forehead, clean-cut features and wide-set grey eyes he had an air of distinction and could easily pass as a gentleman. Just when she thought she knew every facet of his character, Clara discovered something new about Luke Foyle. She hated his way of life, but there was something about him that was both intriguing and fascinating.

Betsy shot him a sideways glance. ‘Ta for the grub, Luke.’

He bowed from the waist. ‘You’re most welcome.’

‘You look very smart,’ Betsy added, looking him up and down. ‘Look at those buttons on his waistcoat, Clara. I bet they’re real silver.’

‘I wouldn’t wear anything less,’ Luke said, chuckling. ‘You have an eye for fashion, Betsy. I paid a handsome price for them.’

‘You’re a shameless peacock.’ Clara hustled him into the shop. ‘We won’t be late, girls.’

The ice-cold air took Clara’s breath away as they trod carefully on the frozen surface of the snow. Above them the indigo sky was studded with twinkling stars and wisps of cloud danced across the silver face of the moon. It would have been a night for romance, had it not been for the grim task ahead. Luke tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, and the scent of bay rum and Macassar oil filled her nostrils. It seemed that the noxious smells of the city had been frozen out of existence, for the time being at least, and when they reached the Strand, lights blazed from the theatres and eating houses, creating a magical snow scene. Ice seemed to fill Clara’s lungs as the cold grew more intense and it was a relief to step inside the Gaiety restaurant where they were enveloped in the aroma of good food and the heady scent of wine, gentlemen’s cologne and expensive perfume.

The cloakroom assistant checked in their outer garments and the maître d’hôtel seemed to know Luke and led them to one of the best tables. A waiter hurried up to present them with menus and took their order. Luke made a selection from the wine list. ‘You’ve very quiet, Clara,’ he said when the waiter had filled their glasses and moved away. ‘Is there something on your mind?’

She covered her confusion by taking a sip of the ruby-red claret. ‘No, of course not.’

‘I don’t believe you.’ He eyed her over the rim of his glass. ‘I know you too well. What is it?’

She met his intense gaze and realised suddenly that a lie was out of the question. ‘I went to see Patches again.’

‘You did what?’ His raised voice attracted the attention of the diners at the next table.

‘She had given me three days to pay off Pa’s debts, but she sent for me today.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’

‘I didn’t know what to do. She wants certain information and she’s threatened to take it out on Jane if I don’t do as she asked. She plans to get even with you for fighting with her son.’

‘I can stand up for myself, but that’s not all, is it? What is it she wants you to do? Come on, Clara, you know that you can’t keep anything from me.’

She could see the tell-tale pulse throbbing in his temple and his knuckles were white as he grasped the stem of his wineglass. ‘She said she would cancel Pa’s debt if I found out where the Skinners have their hideout. She wants them dead.’ Clara’s voice broke on a sob.

‘Why didn’t you tell me all this in the first place? How much did Alfred owe?’

‘Eight guineas, but she’s increased it to ten because I can’t raise that much money, at least not quickly. I suppose I could if I sold the shop, but that’s my livelihood now.’

‘Your father has a lot to answer for. He’s taken the coward’s way out and left you to take the consequences.’ Luke drained his glass and reached for the bottle. ‘You won’t have to do what Patches wants and you won’t have to find the money. I’ll sort that old bitch out once and for all, and that idiot son of hers.’

‘How? What are you going to do?’

‘It’s not your problem now. This has become personal.’ Luke sat back as the waiter appeared with their food. ‘Enjoy your dinner, and then I’m taking you home.’

‘You don’t know Patches. She’s evil.’

‘I know Patches only too well, and it would take more than a pock-marked old woman to frighten me.’

‘You won’t do anything stupid, will you?’

His eyes twinkled and he raised his glass to her. ‘So you do love me?’

‘I don’t want your death on my conscience,’ she said with a reluctant smile.

‘I suppose that’s a start.’ He raised his glass. ‘Let’s enjoy the evening.’

Clara hardly slept that night for worrying about Luke. He had seen her home, but had left immediately, having laughed off her fears and promised to return next day to let her know that matters had been settled satisfactorily. He had seemed supremely confident in his own ability but she had her doubts. The whole sad affair could end up in one of the gang wars that were the scourge of the East End.

She rose early and went about the chore of lighting the fire and filling the kettle with snow as the pump in the back yard was still frozen. The grey-white world outside felt cold and alien, adding to her feeling of foreboding.

Betsy appeared just as the kettle came to the boil, and after snatching a cup of tea and a slice of bread and jam, she rammed her bonnet on her head and wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. ‘If Miss Lavelle isn’t in a better mood today I’m giving in my notice. I don’t care if I never find another job, but I won’t be treated like a skivvy.’

Clara was used to listening to her sister’s grumbles before she set off each day and she ignored this last remark. ‘I’ve made a sandwich for you.’

Betsy eyed the brown paper package with distaste. ‘She won’t allow us to eat in the workroom in case we get grease on the material.’

‘Never mind. Take it anyway and eat it on the way home.’

‘I wish you’d stop being so cheerful. We’re stuck here, in this tiny shop with hardly a rag to our backs and we have to rely on Luke for our food. It’s all Pa’s fault and I hope he’s suffering too, wherever he is now.’ Betsy tucked the sandwich into her reticule and flounced out of the parlour.